Here is a proverb from my book-o-proverbs.
글씨 못쓰는 놈 붓 고른다.
geul·ssi mot·sseu·neun nom but go·reun·da
handwriting can’t-write-PRESPART guy brush fix-upon-PRES
A guy who can’t do handwriting fixes upon his brushes.
“A bad carpenter quarrels with his tools” might be an equivalent proverb in English. The meaning is that people who are bad at their jobs frequent complain about the conditions.
This makes me think of the typical English teacher working in Korea, for some strange reason. I’ve been spending more time than usual (and thus too much time) surveying the blogs and neverending pessimistic commentary of EFL teachers, lately, I suppose.
Category: Banalities & Journaling
Caveat: Fukushima-Style Suntan
Lacking motivation to post something extensive, here is a picture of my neck. You might not like to see this – so be forewarned.
I call it my Fukushima-style suntan. It's all radiation burn, and in fact since I ended the radiation treatments last Thursday, it's been getting noticeably worse. It itches, it burns, it's sore, and of course all these same symptoms are manifest throughout the inside of my mouth and neck tissues, too. But it all makes sense if you follow what's going on with it vis-a-vis the immune system, I guess.
[daily log: walking, 5 km]
Caveat: Anapana
Anapana is meditation with a focus simply on the movements of air that are a part of respiration. It’s a (the) starting point for meditation. I’ve been making on-and-off efforts at meditation for years now, but this video I ran across (posted by my aunt Janet in facebookland, in fact) is as good an introduction to it as any.
It’s so easy to “forget” to do this. But then it’s not hard to “remember” to do it, again, either – I needed the reminder, I guess. But I’m still not really very good at it – especially lately.
Caveat: Antiques
I had a kind of lazy morning, viewing this as my last day of my “radiation holiday” – although I’m only returninig to work part-time, tomorrow, October 1st, I still feel that the pressure will begin to mount to return to full-working status. I both look forward to it (because I like my work and I miss the kids) and dread it (because if I’m feeling like I am still, currently, work is going to be pretty hellish).
Then I got fed up with sitting around, so despite the burning horrible pain in my mouth and neck, Wendy and I took the subway into the city to a neighborhood I hadn’t visited before, called Janghanpyeong. There we visited some “antique markets” that I’d read about. Much less ambitious than the vast flea market area I visited with Andrew and Hollye some weeks ago, but very focused on pre-20th-century antiquities. True antiques – the kind that would be illegal to buy and take home outside of Korea without a government permit.
Here are some pictures from the antiques market.
One of the amazing things about living in the outskirts of Seoul is that it is so vast that I could conceivably go into the city and explore a different, completely unfamiliar neighborhood like this one that I went to today, every week for the rest of my life, and not run out of new places. It’s spectacular. I disagree with those who say Korean neighborhoods are “all the same” or that they lack individual character. Certainly there are patterns, and certainly there is some sameness to the architecture, with the vast majority of it being that post-Korean-War, on-a-tight-budget style. Even still, there are all kinds of things that make each neighborhood different, like the presence of these antique markets in this one we explored today.
My evening since getting home has been pretty uncomfortable. I had felt earlier today that maybe I was “over the hump” as far as discomfort, but yesterday and this evening are the worst I’ve felt since that horrible Sunday 2 weeks ago. The reason is obvious: I had quit taking the hardcore pain medication because I felt that it was making me unnecessarily depressed (as a kind of side effect). But… I may have given it up too soon. I may decide to resume it tonight.
I really don’t like this cancer thing. I know I’ve “got it beat” – at least for now – but I really wish I could just get past all the side effects of the treatment, and get back to something resembling “normal.”
Speaking of antiques…
What I’m listening to right now.
John Prine, “Some Humans Ain’t Human.”
[daily log: walking, 3 km]
Caveat: Clouds
Just after dawn there were interesting layers of clouds out my east-facing window.
Caveat: Street Furniture
Today has been a hard day. Just too much discomfort to really do anything at all. I made the mistake, too, of looking into my mouth in the mirror. That was depressing. Mostly, I’ve avoided that kind of self-regarding contemplation in the wake of this cancer situation and its slowly unfolding aftermath.
I took a shortish walk with Wendy, and read a bit, and napped, and that’s about it.
More later, then.
Here are some pictures from the Lake Park today, where we found an exhibition called “Street Furniture.”
Lastly, there was a pavillion with some student works, and this keyboard-alligator leapt out at me.
[daily log: walking, 3 km]
Caveat: Basques
Since June, I haven’t finished a single book. I was beginning to wonder if I was losing the ability to finish reading books. As Wendy said, though, “You’ve had a few other things on your mind.”
So it was almost a shock today when I finished one of the 15 or so books I currently have in progress. I came home from work, took a kind of disturbed nap, and then I finished reading a book entitled The Basque History of the World by Mark Kurlansky. I’ve always been fascinated by Basque culture, language and history, although it’s an interest I haven’t actively pursued.
Partly I was surprised to have finished the book because I actually found it rather disappointing. It promises a wider scope than it offers – it’s not a Basque history of the world so much as a fairly conventional, anecdote-driven history of the Basque people. Nor does it in fact spend much energy on the Basque diaspora, which is interesting in and of itself – my main first-hand exposure to Basque culture was in Mexico, for example.
As a history, however, it’s fairly well-executed. I think the anecdotal structure facilitated my ability to finally work my way through it, and my already strong familiarity with Spanish History meant that I had a lot of context of my own to fill in the ellipses.
Maybe someday I’ll get to go and explore Basqueland.
[daily log: walking, 4.5 km]
Caveat: Pain Over Cobwebs… um Maybe Not
I have been so disturbed by my cobwebby brain that I did an experiment this morning and forewent my pain medication. I’m not sure it really worked. Wendy and I went into the city (Seoul) for a few hours and walked around. I still was absent-minded as all-get-out, and it was very annoying. I
forgot my phone at home and had to go back and get it. I got lost
(disoriented) twice in a subway station – that wounds my geographical
pride.
Walking around, though… I was fine, walking around – she kept worrying about if I was OK walking around. I emphasized that everything below my shoulders is quite fine and even in tip-top shape. Walking around was great. Only when we stopped to eat, and I attempted to eat some leek jeon and some dumpling/tteok soup (both bland-flavored and I can manage them, chopped into little bits) I had to break down and break out the codeine. And talking hurt, too. I talked too much, as usual. So it’s the above-the-shoulders stuff that aches and hurts and burns and is all fuzzy. That’s all.
When I got home I lay down and had a feverish-feeling nap. That’s the other thing the analgesics do (which are embedded with / accompany the opioids): they solve the feverish sensation that comes from my immune system’s current overdrive status.
I have to teach tomorrow – my September Saturday-only schedule which was off last week from the holiday.
Next week, with the start of October, I will have an approximately 20-25% teaching load. I’m really worried about it – my talking feels blurry and distorted. It’s going to be hard, and I don’t want to let down my fellow teachers or students, either.
The walking, though. Fine. We really didn’t even walk that much. Here is Wendy, probably unhappy about trying to keep up with me, in Seoul (we went to Namsan – we took the cable car up the mountain, which minimized the climbing, but didn’t eliminate it entirely).
Note the homeless guy camped on the side of the stairway-street: South Korea isn’t some kind of utopia, as some people seem to think I’m implying sometimes in how I write about life here. I like it here, and I view the country’s social problems as less severe than in the US, but I am hardly in denial that the country has some major social problems, many of which parallel those in the US.
[daily log: walking, 5 km]
Caveat: An End to Catastrophic Interventions
Over the last three months my body has seen a series of catastrophic interventions: surgery, various invasive scans, a major infection and a second surgery, and then 7 weeks of cancer-killing radiation therapy.
I am now hoping these interventions are over, and that way I can focus on actually trying to build up my health and resistance once again.
Oddly, I feel very little of the elation I expected to feel upon the end of my radiation series. Instead, I feel overwhelmed: overwhelmed by the fact that now, I should “get on” with my life. I no longer have any excuses, except the delay of my own body in “getting it together again.” I am a naturally impatient person – did I mention that?
Here is a picture of the technicians who did my therapy. I think the one on the left is an MD – but I’m not really sure. I didn’t really interact with them much – mostly they are in a little booth (protected from the radiation) while I was inside the machine.
I gave them a gift – some individual-sized cakes from a bakery across the street.
The lobby of the radiation building has a multilingual sign. I noticed something today for the first time – good to notice it on my last day there. What I noticed was that the language at the end is utterly messed up. Wendy thought it was mutilated French, while I wondered if maybe it was an attempt at Catalan. I’ve decided Wendy is more likely correct, but it’s very bad French, where someone may have forgotten to clear his template of some leftover Spanish, first.
I wonder if the other languages, that I don’t know as well, are messed up too?
What I’m listening to right now.
My Bloody Valentine, “When You Sleep.”
[daily log: walking, 9 km]
caveat: zap-o-matic number 30
i dreamed i was driving my dad’s 1928 ford model A through rural korea. i was alone. i had stopped to fix something, along a dusty road that on closer inspection resembled rural mexico more than rural korea. my brother rode by on a motorcycle and refused to to help. he was wielding a flaming tree branch.
then a man stopped and gazed on me as i worked. it took me a while to realize he wasnt korean. he had a stark, expressionless face, and blue eyes. he asked me where the post office was. when i said i didn’t know, he ran off as if upset. i finally got the model A running again, and drove into a town. there were men with cows standing around, arguing. i saw the blue-eyed man who had asked earlier about the post office. he was carrying a basket of snakes.
the model A was full of junk. trash, really. my brother came by and insisted that the best way to deal with it was to light it on fire, which he did. the flames roared, and i pulled the trash out of the car as it became clear the flames would consume the vehicle too. as i did, there was a woman among the trash. she was on fire. andrew and i kicked dirt over her, trying to put out the fire. the woman was screaming.
the men with cows watched. the man with blue eyes ran away.
i awoke, wide awake, at 530 am.
(the picture, above right, is a scan of one taken of the car in 1969. my dad still has the car.)
today is my last day of the x-ray tomographic radiation therapy.
now i just have to get healthy. that’s going to be rougher than i expected. somehow, in conceptualizing this process, i had imagined, quite inaccurately, that i would finish the radiation and then immediately go back to my regular life. this is clearly not going to happen: i expect the next week or two to actually be the worst in terms of discomfort and incapacitation, as my body begins the slow and difficult work of rebuilding and repairing all the things in my mouth and neck that the high-energy photons have broken and damaged.
Caveat: Just Walk
My brain isn’t very functional these days, balanced as it is on the ridgeline separating pain and medication. Sometimes it’s the pain, sometimes it’s the medication, but either way, my brain is immersed in syrup.
So I sit at my computer a lot. Reading blogs or playing my game. Or just sit, zoning out, listening to NPR.
But I still walk a lot.
Every day, I walk to or from the hospital, or both.
Yesterday, here are Wenday and I at the observation platform at the top of Jeongbal hill, taken on the way home.
Yesterday, Wendy and I walked around the lake in Lake Park.
Here are some pictures of the lake.
Today, we walked over to the Madu neighborhood and back.
Here is an idiosyncratic (and probably very expensive) home we saw there.
What I’m listening to right now.
Django Django, “Storm.”
[daily log: walking, 9 km]
caveat: zap-o-matic number 29
soon.
caveat: zap-o-matic number 28
i forgot my phone in going to my session this morning, so this posting is later than usual.
its drizzling.
i have this metallic feel in my mouth, the last few days gradually becoming more pronounced. its like i tried to suck on hot ball bearings as if it were candy.
i dont like this increasing absent-mindedness. im sure its the medication, and not the treatment per se. but whenever i feel out of control of my mental faculties, i start to panic about old age, senility and the conditions under which my life would quickly lose meaning.
two more sessions. then some weeks of recovery, which ive come to realize will be worse than the treatment.
grr. really grumpy today.
Caveat: A mob of cobblers
Dreams
Dreams are but interludes which Fancy makes;
When monarch Reason sleeps, this mimic wakes:
Compounds a medley of disjointed things,
A mob of cobblers, and a court of kings:
Light fumes are merry, grosser fumes are sad;
Both are the reasonable soul run mad;
And many monstrous forms in sleep we see,
That neither were, nor are, nor e'er can be.
Sometimes forgotten things long cast behind
Rush forward in the brain, and come to mind.
The nurse's legends are for truths received,
And the man dreams but what the boy believed.
Sometimes we but rehearse a former play,
The night restores our actions done by day;
As hounds in sleep will open for their prey.
In short, the farce of dreams is of a piece,
Chimeras all; and more absurd, or less.
– John Dryden (English poet, 1631-1700)
I went to my treatment session, this morning, and took an extra pain pill afterward – that's the first time I've doubled down like that, although the doctor had said I could. It left me feeling disjointed and outside of time, and I zombified in front of my computer playing a game.
I somewhat recovered, after Wendy reminded me the time, and so we went over to the hospital again to meet Dr Ryu, but the visit was fairly perfunctory. He didn't seem to find anything unexpected, and I kept my optimism.
We walked over to my work and I introduced Wendy to my coworkers, but I didn't stay long. Finally, we walked back home.
What I'm listening to right now.
The Tallest Man on Earth, "1904."
[daily log: walking, 7 km]
caveat: zap-o-matic number 27
wendy came with me to the hospital so i didnt walk – i walk too fast as part of my normal routine to expect her to keep up.
im feeling discouraged after my five day break for the following reason: i had hoped that after five days i would have begun feeling "better" but in fact i feel just as bad if not worse. this is discouraging because it means once i finish the radiation series this thursday, its still not really finished, as the slog to full health will remain a long one.
this is worrying because i had made the optimistic promise to resume a regular teaching schedule on october first, but under the present conditions that os hard to imagine. im going to have to have a depressing conversation with curt, as a consequence. and of course, each month of not working full time is expensive, too – more so than the actual treatment. i continue to shovel through my retirement savings at an alarming rate.
i visualize scrouge mcduck, emptying one of his money-swimming vaults with a shovel or a bulldozer.
Caveat: 흥국사
I’m really not up to day-long trips, right now. My energy-level is limited. However, it’s still important to get out of the house and I want to show at least some things to Wendy, too.
So I’ve been thinking of shorter half-day or several-hours-long trips we could do. I’ve long thought I should make more of an effort to visit things that are close by – landmarks, temples, parks, etc., that are right here in Goyang City. So many things are nearby that I never visit because it’s always that phenomenon of “I’ll be able to visit that any time I want” which boils down to never visiting it.
With that in mind, today we went to a temple called 흥국사 [heung guk sa] which is on the eastern edge of Goyang, up against where the city touches Seoul at the western end of Bukhansan National Park.
It turned out to be a rather rustic temple – not polished for the tourists, at all, just a working temple, a bit run down in areas. I actually like seeing places like this.
It took about an hour to get there: subway to Gupabal Station, then bus number 704 up the road that parallels the city limit between Seoul and Goyang for about 20 minutes to a rather rural-looking spot. Then walking up a one-lane road, up a narrow valley between two arms of a small mountain, to the temple.
Here are some pictures.
At the top of the road, here is the temple parking area.
A tourist map of Goyang on an announcement board.
The gathering area in front of the complex of buildings.
Looking up toward some of the buildings.
Bukhansan in the distance.
Eaves of two buildings, a hanging bell, and the peaks of Bukhansan in the distance.
A guy flying along.
A seashore scene.
A really nice painting up above the level where most of the panel paintings are, up under the eaves.
A dragon.
Some guys talking in what looks like a blue fog.
A guy riding a tiger.
Another nice panel painting.
Wendy is resting on some quarried stone for building curbs or steps. There was some construction going on at parts of the temple site.
Jared and the dragon.
Another view showing how unpopulated it was, there, and the western side of Bukhansan in the background.
Looking up at several buildings – Wendy is standing on the balcony on the building to the right.
Looking at the temple from the large gathering area in front of it.
A bored looking dog near the temple.
A hint of fall colors in the parking area.
Crossing a small stream on the small road near the main road (I think this stream is the city limit between Seoul and Goyang, but I’m not positive).
The sign for the temple at the main road where the bus stop is.
Then we got back on the bus and went back to the subway and I came home.
[daily log: walking, 3 km]
Caveat: Mopey Day
Today was a bit of a retrogression on the “gradually feeling better” aspect of this five-day break from radiation therapy. I had a lot of pain in my mouth, even despite my meds. Perhaps I pushed too hard yesterday in trying to eat actual food as opposed to sticking to my semi-disgusting nutrition drinks. This makes me feel less optimistic about a quick recovery once the radiation is done, at the end of next week.
Nevertheless, at least in morning, I took Wendy on a short hike over to Jungsan, to the Yeongcheon temple (영천사). There was a service being held there – it was busier than I’d ever seen it. On the way back down the hill, we met an 84 year-old Korean War veteran and his 78 year-old wife hiking up the mountain to the temple. That was impressive. Like many Korean War veterans, his English was pretty good, so we talked briefly.
Wendy ran out of patience with my mopey, somewhat unsociable hosting – or she ran out of patience with my claustrophobic apartment. So we found a hotel for her, over near the bus station at Baekseok.
I slept part of the afternoon.
A view down the hill from the temple.
[daily log: walking, 4 km]
Caveat: Across the Street for Juk
My friend Seungbae came out on a whirlwind and we went out for dinner at the juk place across the street. I did not eat much.
I was pleased to see Seungbae, he was very gracious with Wendy. He travels to Sao Paulo and Mexico City next week for more than a month.
caveat: small orientation tour
my energy levels arent that great, but wendys arent either. so i took her into downtown seoul for about an hour (plus 40 minutes each way on the subway). i showed her gwanghwamun and the jogye temple.
most places were closed. we just walked a bit. i suffered more from my anability to stop talking than from walking.
here is wendy at the temple.
caveat: orange sunset over the han river
im riding the bus to the airport to meet my stepmother wendy – feeling a little bit numb and blurry.
caveat: zap-o-holiday number 1
Day 1 of the harvest moon.
“Hey, everyone in Korea! Wake up! Today, you need to get in a car, bus or train and travel to your ancestral hometown. No exceptions! Get moving!”
Caveat: Say what you mean. Bear witness. Iterate.
The worm drives helically through the wood
And does not know the dust left in the bore
Once made the table integral and good;
And suddenly the crystal hits the floor.
Electrons find their paths in subtle ways,
A massless eddy in a trail of smoke;
The names of lovers, light of other days —
Perhaps you will not miss them. That’s the joke.
The universe winds down. That’s how it’s made.
But memory is everything to lose;
Although some of the colors have to fade,
Do not believe you’ll get the chance to choose.
Regret, by definition, comes too late;
Say what you mean. Bear witness. Iterate.
– John M. Ford (1957-2006)
I got a painkiller upgrade today.
That was a necessary and a good thingzzzzz z zz zz z z z z z
What I’m listening to right now.
Informatik, “It Was Like I Was Dreaming.”
[daily log: walking, 4.5 km]
caveat: zap-o-matic number 26
i dreamed i was in my apartment. my sister had dropped by to visit, which surreal because i doubt she would do that. some karma coworkers were there. . . it was almost like a little dinner party, but awkward because my apartment was so small.
grace got up and said she had to go, but leaving, she stopped in the hall and looked terrified, she was looking into my bathroom. we asked what was wrong.
she said someone was in there. i got up to look. as i looked, a woman came out, with blond hair but in korean traditional dress. a stranger.
“who. . . ?” i began to ask. the woman merely pushed past, wordlessly. she went out the door and left.
i looked in the bathroom. just as i did, another person came out. an american soldier in fatigues, african american, he resembled one of my old sergeants. he too left wordlessly.
soon a flood of people were coming out, like a crowded subway passage.
grace said they were ghosts.
my sister wanted to know what was wrong with this place.
i woke up. it was 3 am. after today, i have five day holiday then four more sessions.
Caveat: Ham! … no, psych: Harmonilan
I took a walk and stopped by work – truly only stopped by, I didn’t do anything there except talk to Curt for about 10 minutes, and not about work stuff. I received my Chuseok gift set: ham!
Korean workplaces have a custom of giving some type of gift to each employee as part of the Chuseok (Korean Thanksgiving) season, and last year and this year KarmaPlus is giving ham gift sets. Not spam, but the classier ham.
It looks like this – a box with “hand made” hams and some condiments, in a little carrying case. Koreans love packaging.
There is a little note with a poem attached.
But.
I can’t eat ham – not right now, anyway. I took a picture of my breakfast earlier this morning.
Mmm.
What I’m listening to right now.
Ingrid Michaelson, “Blood Brothers.” The video is pretty interesting, too.
[daily log: walking, 6.5 km]
caveat: zap-o-matic number 25
monday morning!
im actually looking forward to radiation this morning. why, you might ask? a pattern has emerged the last two weeks where i actually feel worst on days without radiation. i hadnt anticipated this, but in thinking carefully about whats going on physiologically, it makes sense. the radiation is wrecking my immune system. most of my worst symptoms – the feverishness, pus and sores in my mouth, inability to swallow. . . are consequences of my immune system fighting back. so of course the days when i dont do the radiation are the worst – theyre when the symptoms really take off, as my immune system struggles to recover from the previous weeks blasting.
so i guess it wasnt a blessing, after all, that my birthday fell on a photon-free day: yesterday was easily the absolute worst since my days in the ICU. it was mostly a blurry alternation of sleeping, coughing, daydreaming about when this will be over, and crying from pain. i took some breaks from this compelling routine to take a short walk, surf the web listlessly, write a few messages and emails, and clean my kitchen sink.
im not whining – i hope people understand – merely reporting.
two more weeks. im no longer looking forward to the 5 day thanksgiving (추석 chuseok) weekend, as the above insight should explain. a highlight is that my stepmother wendy arrives wednesday. i regret i may be pretty poor company.
beautiful fall-ish morning, sunny but a hint of dry, siberian crispness.
Caveat: The Anti-Yum
I celebrated this special Sunday by it being the first day of my radiation series when I was completely unable to eat solid food. I tried to eat nurungji this morning, but it didn't work out. So during the day I drank a couple of those gamey-smelling nutrition drinks I was prescribed a few weeks ago. Each time, I put in a drop of vanilla extract and a sprinkle of cinnamon, and pour it over ice. That gets it to seem vaguely like horchata.
It all sounds pretty bad. It is bad. But… most patients undergoing this type of therapy after my particular diagnosis and surgery would have been in today's situation two weeks ago. In that sense, I am still beating the odds handily. The doctor has commented frequently on my surprising resilience. I will make it through this!
I only have two weeks left.
What I'm listening to right now.
信近エリ[Eri Nobuchika] & Röyksopp, "Sing a Song" – Kramsnø Remix. Röyksopp is a Norwegian duo, and Eri Nobuchika reworks their popular "Vision One" with her own lyrics sung in Japanese. I like this version a great deal even though I don't understand the lyrics.
[daily log: walking, 2 km]
Caveat: 니 생각 All night
To all the people who want to call me, here is a widecast message. I’m not answering my phone – it HURTS for me to talk. Not psychologically… just simply physically – my tongue has sores on it, so talking is actually right now much more difficult than it was in the first days out of surgery in the hospital, in July. At that time, it was just numb. Now, each consonant is a burnnn. I can talk in only vowels, if you want…
My fingers still work, though: I’m happy to exchange emails and text messages. I’m really sorry, to be so blunt.
What I’m listening to right now.
김예림(투개월), “All Right.”
가사:
요즘 난 All right
너 가도 All right
이별 따위 All right
(한땐)
니 생각 All night
넌 내게 Delight
안갯속의 Some light
요즘 난 All right
너 가도 All right
이별 따위 All right
니 생각 All night
넌 내게 Delight
안갯속의 Some light
기껏 이거야 내 모든 걸 가졌던
너 없는 게 겨우 이거야
걱정 가득한 너의 마지막 굿바이
넌 그 정돈 아냐 난 All right,
All right
요즘 난 All right
너 가도 All right
이별 따위 All right
니 생각 All night
넌 내게 Delight
안갯속의 Some light
기껏 이거야 내 모든 걸 가졌던
너 없는 게 겨우 이거야
걱정 가득한 너의 마지막 굿바이
넌 그 정돈 아냐 난 All right,
All right
(Male) 우리 추억 영원히 잊지 못할 거야
Oh My Love Love Love
부디 좋은 사람 만나길 바랄게
Oh My Love Love Love
All right
짐작하지 마
걱정하지 마
안부도 묻지 마
진작 그러지
이제 와 뭐지
넌 언제나 그랬지
요즘 난 All right
너 가도 All right
이별 따위 All right
니 생각 All night
넌 내게 Delight
안갯속의 Some light
걱정하지 마 너의 그 잘난 이미지
내 입에 담길 일 없는 너
걱정 가득한 따뜻한 그 눈빛은
다음 girl에게나 줘 All right,
All right
요즘 난 All right
너 가도 All right
이별 따위 All right
니 생각 All night
넌 내게 Delight
안갯속의 Some light
짐작하지 마
걱정하지 마
안부도 묻지 마
진작 그러지
이제 와 뭐지
넌 언제나 그랬지
요즘 난 All right
너 가도 All right
이별 따위 All right
니 생각 All night
넌 내게 Delight
안갯속의 Some light
Caveat: Minneapolitan Abroad
I am still, in a legal sense, a Minneapolis resident. My congressman is Keith Ellison, and it's a Minnesota absentee ballot that I vote on when I vote. After Arcata (Humboldt County), California, Minneapolis-St Paul is really my second hometown, and if I return to the US, it's at the top of the list of places I would choose to live.
Minneapolis is having a mayoral election, which is "wide open" this year because the fairly popular incumbent, Rybak, isn't seeking reelection. It's also wide open because they've implemented a new ranked voting system that changes the dynamics quite a bit. Basically anyone can run and there's no primary. So a lot of weird candidates are coming out of the woodwork. Apparently they're coming out of the lakes, too.
I wasn't planning to go through the rigamarole of voting in the election, as it wasn't that interesting or compelling to me, but the race is getting quite strange. Here's one possible candidate's ad.
So, how could I not vote, with such brilliant options as a foul-mouthed aquaman such as Jeff Wagner? Plus, he swims and drinks coffee at the same time. "The Legend of the Loch-Ness Mayor" begins…
Caveat: Friday the 13, September 2013
Really, it could be the title of a sci-fi-horror movie. But it’s just the date.
Walking home from the hospital, it began raining so hard. I was splashed by a bus that zoomed past. Utterly soaked. Then I stepped in a giant river formed in one section of sidewalk. Less than halfway home, it was as if I had walked, clothed, into a shower. At first I thought, I should find a taxi. Taxis in rainstorms in Ilsan are a rare commodity, though. I reached a state of mind where I simply didn’t care. I couldn’t get any wetter, could I? I came home and put my clothes in the laundry and took a shower and dried out. I took a nap.
Later, I felt pretty lousy, but I ended up walking to work, only to chat with Helen and Curt for a short while each, and then basically walked home. So it was a long walk with a conversation in the middle. It wasn’t raining anymore, but the sky was full of grayness and clouds. I tried to take a picture to capture it, but not sure it really came out very well.
After visiting work, seeing a few of my students in the halls, being told that several asked when I was coming back… I miss my students but I’m grateful at this point to have made the decision not to have tried to take on even an abbreviated teaching schedule – I wouldn’t be able to handle it at this point. Two classes each Saturday is just about right.
When I was a very nerdy teenager, I liked Monty Python. And the best Monty Python was The Holy Grail. I ran across this satirical (or rather serious, since the movie is satirical – if you take satire seriously, is that meta-satirical or just dumb?) movie trailer. It’s awesome.
Picture – a view from my window at sunset.
[daily log: walking, 9 km]
caveat: zap-o-matic number 24
the last few days have been continuous overcast and sporadic downpours with much drizzle between. its been like a monsoon 2.0. late summer bliss.
last night helen called wanting me to come to work for a "birthday party" and out-to-dinner. this is a longstanding karma custom. but i wasnt up to it. i knew i wouldnt be able to eat anything and these days i have permanent fever sensation (not actual), random coughing fits, exhaustion. i felt bad about saying no, but simply couldnt.
i want to be clear to everyone about something, though: although i feel physically horrible, my mental state is not that bad. im "documenting" this experience here, and so i am not sparing details of symptoms. but i am not just my symptoms.
i am not that depressed at all. i would compare my state of mind to the last few weeks of army basic training in 1990. i was exhausted, permanently pissed off, and struggling. but it had become clear to me by then that i would complete the training successfully – even near the top of my class. i just had to put my face to the grindstone and cope until graduation day.
its the same now. ill make it, but right now, each step forward is a bitch.
what im listening to right now.
the cure, "last day of summer."
Caveat: no soy piedra, sino camino
Unos cuerpos son como flores,
otros como puñales,
otros como cintas de agua;
pero todos, temprano o tarde,
serán quemaduras que en otro cuerpo se agranden,
convirtiendo por virtud del fuego a una piedra en un
hombre.
Pero el hombre se agita en todas direcciones,
sueña con libertades, compite con el viento,
hasta que un día la quemadura se borra,
volviendo a ser piedra en el camino de nadie.
Yo, que no soy piedra, sino camino
que cruzan al pasar los pies desnudos,
muero de amor por todos ellos;
les doy mi cuerpo para que lo pisen,
aunque les lleve a una ambición o a una nube,
sin que ninguno comprenda
que ambiciones o nubes
no valen un amor que se entrega.
- Luis Cernuda (poeta español, 1902-1963)… no tengo nada que decir. estoy cansado… enfermo.
mi momento urge paciencia.
[daily log: walking, 4.5 km]
caveat: zap-o-matic number 23
sometimes i regret having stumbled upon the heading "zap-o-matic" for my radiotherapy session postings. it implies a certain joking trivialization of the process that lacks gravity. on the other hand, the whole situation sometimes strikes me as so absurdly flash gordoneaque that i wanted to capture that, and the moniker seems apt.
i thought of this, this morning, awaking from a dream in which i had been abducted by aliens, who had decided they could "help" me by rearranging my body into a more "optimal" configuration. transparently symbolic, eh?
the thing was, it wasnt at all nightmarish. my dream-self was remarkably blase about the prospect. "have at it," i seemed to be saying. "good luck with that. ive been trying for years. . ." which makes me think of an old talking heads song, "seen and not seen." maybe i will add the link to that when i get home.
[update]
What I'm listening to right now.
Talking Heads, "Seen Or Not Seen."
Lyrics:
He would see faces in movies, on T.V., in magazines, and in books….
He thought that some of these faces might be right for him….
And through the years, by keeping an ideal facial structure fixed in his mind….
Or somewhere in the back of his mind….
That he might, by force of will,
cause his face to approach those of his ideal….
The change would be very subtle….It might take ten years or so….
Gradually his face would change its shape….A more hooked nose…
Wider, thinner lips….Beady eyes….A larger forehead.He imagined that this was an ability he shared with most other people….
They had also molded their faces according to some ideal….
Maybe they imagined that their new face would better suit their personality….
Or maybe they imagined that their
personality would be forced to change to fit the new appearance….
This is why first impressions are often correct…
Although some people might have made mistakes….
They may have arrived at an appearance that bears no relationship to them….
They may have picked an ideal appearance based on some childish whim,
or momentary impulse….
Some may have gotten halfway there, and then changed their minds.
He wonders if he too might have made a similar mistake
Caveat: Ability without concomitant ambition
So, it’s been a long time since I thought much in this mode, but I ran across something on the Marginal Revolution economics blog that was interesting to me.
There was a time, between about 2004 and 2007, when I was very close to going to business school and getting an MBA. Some people don’t know that about me. I took the GMAT, got a pretty good score (good enough to get unsolicited, pre-filled-out admissions documents from some first rate schools), and I even started the application process.
I was fascinated by the field of project management, and the idea of building teams to solve “business systems problems” such as I’d been involved in with ARAMARK and the IBM and Oracle consulting teams that were working on the comprehensive IT overhaul there (projects that ultimately failed, to the best of my knowledge, and about which I have no small number of strong opinions as to why). Then there was my work later at HealthSmart Pacific and their pharmacy division. I genuinely thought I had the ability – but I had doubts about whether I really had the drive.
“Ability without concomitant ambition” has been my curse (and motto?) since grade school. I wrote exactly that phrase on the cover of a journal I kept in high school – really.
The conclusion, obviously, was that I didn’t go to b-school. I made the decision that what I wanted instead was to follow my heart’s ambition and return to my previous career track, into teaching. Nevertheless, I sometimes think of these “paths not taken.”
This blogpost I ran across referenced, in turn, a short post at kottke.org which in turn pointed to a powerpoint (posted as PDF) by someone at Stanford. The topic is “getting things done” – but within the Silicon Valley Biz-School “Creative Destruction” discourse paradigm. The Coveyesque title is: “The Five Cognitive Distortions of People Who Get Stuff Done.” As a person who eternally struggles with getting things done, this was immediately interesting me. What do the b-school gurus have to say about it?
Here they are:
1. Personal exceptionalism
2. Dichotomous thinking
3. Correct overgeneralization
4. Blank canvas thinking
5. Schumpeterianism
Schumpeter was (I think – not going to check) the originator of the “creative destruction” idea in economics, as an engine of progress and growth.
Which of those “cognitive distortions” do I have? Should I try to score myself? How do I rate, 0~10, on each of these axes?
1. Personal exceptionalism – only on good days: 4/10
2. Dichotomous thinking – terribly: 10/10
3. Correct overgeneralization – hard to judge, but I’ll say: 7/10
4. Blank canvas thinking: I’m an artist at heart: 8/10
5. Schumpeterianism: this is where I fall down: 1/10? I’m too chicken to “creatively destroy” things. I instinctively lean toward consensus-driven models of work, which, as anyone who’s tried to be a Quaker knows, is nigh impossible. I’m not clear on the theoretical relationship between a consensus model of organizational change and Schumpeter’s concepts (they’re slightly different semantic domains, clearly), but my intuition is that they’re in conflict.
So under this discourse frame, do I have a chance of getting stuff done? I’d say not excellent, but something, anyway.
Something to think about. (Picture at right: Schumpeter.)
What I’m listening to right now.
Fitz and The Tantrums, “Out of My League.”
[daily log: walking, 6 km.]