At the Brink of Eternity

Coming home from work on the subway, as usual reading my book, and today’s train problem was “a fire at High Street”—so about a half-hour later than usual, if there is a usual. So today, the odd and unusual thing was that I noticed a woman reading an incredibly thick novel—at least I assumed it was a novel—I couldn’t see the title. And what caught my attention was that she was a couple pages from the end. She didn’t seem to be a speed reader either, so I started looking up at her every so often to see how close to the end she was. I wanted to see her finish it! What would happen when she finished the book? Would a bell go off somewhere in the world? Would her head light up like a plastic star on the top of a Christmas tree? Would time unfold like the tablecloth on the plane of existence and then fold us back in, never to be seen again?


As it turned out, she was still not done with the book—though I swear she was on the LAST PAGE—when we came to my stop. But to my surprise and delight, she got off at my stop—and kept reading as she walked! So I followed her, of course. Down the platform, still reading, through the turnstile, reading, up the stairs to the street—still reading! When she emerged from the depths, onto the street, she was still reading, and I was still right behind her. When we came to the first corner, however, she headed east, while my direction was north. Now I had to make a decision, and I chose to stop following her. That was where I drew the line, I decided. Maybe I missed something... maybe I lost something... maybe I escaped something—I’ll never know.

Didn't See This Coming

For quite awhile now I've pretty much depended on ALTOIDS peppermints to settle my stomach. I know they're essentially candy, and have too much sugar in them, but they also have real peppermint, which is good. Better than taking Tums or Rolaids all the time, is my justification. Plus, I like them. So, I wasn't too happy to get my latest metal tin and open it to see their latest bizarre slogan... or whatever that is supposed to be. Andie MacDowell isn't crazy about it either.

Knowledge Is So So

I’ve been listening to a lot of old David Bowie records lately, so getting songs stuck in my head. One day last week, almost 40 years after it was released, I was thinking about the album (and song) Aladdin Sane, and I finally got the pun (“A Lad Insane”). It just occurred to me while I was washing the dishes or vacuuming or something. I’m probably the last living person to get that pun. It’s kind of disappointing, actually.

A lot of the 1970s Bowie songs that sounded so exotic to me for so long are starting to, finally, after 40 years, lose their glittery paint and sound a lot closer to Bill Haley and the Comets than extraterrestrial space aliens. Maybe I have always expected too much and listened too gently, but still, it’s kind of sad.

This idea that knowledge is good, knowledge is good, knowledge is good, is something I’d like to challenge. At least for myself. Knowledge is addictive. Knowledge is fun. Knowledge is intoxicating. Knowledge costs money, and takes time, and is deceiving. It can also be disappointing, sad, depressing, devastating, and on and on. So I don’t know about “good.”

Groundhog Day/Hedgehog Day

This is about the movie PRIMER, but I don't want to describe the movie, so if you haven't seen it, stop reading right here, because this will otherwise make no sense.

The movie was supposed to come from Netflix, but was several days late, so I had them send another one, which came promptly. We didn't watch it however, and then, after about a week, the originally shipped one came. So now I've got TWO DVDs of the same movie.

Perfect.

I thought about playing them almost at the same time on two different devices. But I figured that would be overkill. n