My Legacy, and Other Nonsense

Diary, 5/4 to 5/5/22: Rant about Roe; free lists; smoothie experiments; Marvel and Terminator; notes and journaling; what every intellectual wants? Actresses, drooling. Coming to take me away! Me at my most shameless and unhinged, sorry.

Subaru “Legacy” (joke)

Copyright 2022 (text only) by Alan Carl Nicoll
All Rights Reserved

{5/4/22} Continued.

@NicollWTF has been adopted by someone on Twitter after I deleted my account.  How nice.

Investigating what shows up when I search “NicollWTF.com,” I came across this:

Hard but true words from someone who expresses my opinion, doubtless better and with more credibility than I could, of Bible thumpers and their actions against Roe v. Wade (shall I use #RoeVsWade?).  Indeed, I’d have been more inclined to trash the “bobble” than she is.  Here’s the link; the woman and the original video source are not identified and I’m not clever enough to figure out how to do that, given my marginal interest.

IQFY has free lists of things of some interest, including “active verbs” and the million most popular URLs.  I just took a quick glance.

Lunch?

So my lunch smoothie was blackberries, strawberries, and almond milk.  This amounts to less protein than I got from the “side dish” of a cup of Cheetos, and probably no more fiber, either.  The protein will be taken care of by dinner of fried fish and a slice of bread (which has good fiber).  So that’s okay, but the smoothie was, again, not something I’d drink for pleasure.  I added some honey and later some brown sugar, but I still didn’t like it much.  It seemed watery and not very flavorful despite the “organic” fruit.  Indeed, I bought the fruit on Saturday and the strawberries were already getting moldy—I threw away about as many as I used.  The rest, with the blackberries, went into the freezer.  It seems that I must be more on top of what’s not going to keep very well, or just buy frozen fruit almost exclusively.

I want to try something more veggie-intensive, like maybe tomatoes and carrots (already purchased), and perhaps something other than almond milk, which doesn’t really offer much of what I’m looking for (mostly protein and fiber with low sodium).  Water might be preferable?  I’ll probably switch to orange juice.

Caught some minutes of Captain America:  The Winter Soldier (2014), which has to be just about the best action film of all time.  Of course there’s plenty of competition; Terminator 2, frinstance. I’ve seen both many times, CATWS most often in bits and pieces because I don’t have it on DVD.  I know that James Bond has his fans; I’ve never gotten interested in the series post-Connery.  (The fight in the railroad stateroom in From Russia With Love was awesome in its day.)  Some good chemistry between “Cap” (Chris Evans) and “Natasha” (Scarlett Johansson), ratings of 90% and 92% from critics and audiences at Rotten Tomatoes, where it’s almost impossible to find a discouraging word (though I didn’t look beyond the linked page).  The pacing seems to me just perfect.  Music?  I suppose there is some.  “Cap” never raises his voice, however, and it might be good to see him lose control or shed a tear at least a little bit some time.

So I went back and looked at more of the critics, and I found that while the “splats” were few, almost none of them gave it 5/5 stars; 4/5 or 3/4 were more typical.  So I looked at Terminator 2 and was surprised to see that it’s 23 years older than CATWS!  It also has slightly higher scores (93 and 95).  Giving it more thought, I see that the Terminator worldview, while not breathtakingly deep, has had a lot more impact on how people think about AI and our future than all the Marvel showpieces put together.  Perhaps that’s not the point of movies, particularly “summer blockbusters.”  The Marvel movies built to an awesome climax; the Terminator movies peaked early, then just trailed off into mediocrity.  I’m glad we have both.

I ended up not eating the fish, I wasn’t hungry enough, so I just had a slice of toast with peanut butter.  Better fiber that way, but today was low on protein.

{5/5/22}

Browsing my blog this morning, I came across the “Angry Spiders” post of diary text.  There I complain about post-it notes piling up “and to what end?”  Well the thing is, it’s “easier” to take a new post-it than to find the right page in my “mini Bullet Journal” (hereafter “mBJ”).  But in fact, I tend to misplace the stack of unused post-its, and so end up looking for that rather than taking the (probably) readily-available mBJ and thus “being efficient.”  Of course, the fate of the mBJ is as equally likely to be “landfill” as for the post-its—“landfill” rather than “library,” that is, alas.

Because, you see, I think about my “legacy” from time to time, wanting to be studied by future PhD students, or just read and enjoyed by real human beings seeking wisdom.  Because I have spent much, very much of my long life in seeking and collecting wisdom from books and from thinking and writing this diary.  Where are my disciples?  I have none.  Where are my “constant readers”?  I have none.  My fantasies remain fantasies.  And would I really want a disciple or a dozen?  Smelly old men with beards who are foolish enough to take notes of my remarks?  Or, worse, beautiful young women sitting at my feet, forever unattainable, distractions and heartaches forever in my sight?  Yes, of course I would want either, or both.  Doesn’t every self-styled “intellectual” want this?  Make of this what you will, I have no shame or I wouldn’t speak of myself this way.

Doubtless there is some good quote to express this pithily.  Now don’t get all pithy on me.

Shall I get back to my perennial subject, doom?  NO!  It’s inevitable, of course, but I’ll push this whimsical mood as far as I can, and I think I may have run out of steam already.  As somebody said (Mill?), “Ask whether you are happy and you immediately cease to be.”  So, in considering my mood, I “asked.”  And so the “whimsy” has disappeared just like cotton candy in the mouth of a fat, greedy, six-year-old boy.  An American, of course.

Photo by Mariana Kurnyk on Pexels.com

This morning (it’s now 6:55 am) I also read with great interest my post, “Philosophy Today: Diary 9/11 to 9/12/21” which seemed to me so valuable that I stuffed it into my blog menu, right under “The Bleak Philosophy.”  The “today” of the title is a reference to my reading, and not to doings in academia.  There I talk about nobody more recent that Walter Kaufmann (1921-1980).  And what did I retain from this reading?  Is there anything left in my seemingly-empty head from that close attention to perhaps a thousand words?  I can remember who I quoted, and I can remember the point of the long quote from Nietzsche’s Gay Science; I can’t remember the point of the quote from Kaufmann.  I can remember thinking that I might print it out for sharing at the Hemlock Club.  I did not think, but should have, how futile such exercises are.  I’ll get no useful discussion, barely even any interest, even if some of the others read parts aloud (as we often do).  And Peanut will take the copy with enthusiasm, take it home and put it somewhere, and never mention it again.  (That last is unfair, however—she does sometimes mention things I’ve written and handed out.)

But the young women:  Olivia is leaving, and she is the closest thing to a young woman “in my life” at present.  How close?  Not close at all, a cashier at Panera Bread whom I will likely never even see again, from a distance.  I am a pathetic old man, surely a redundancy in that expression.  (Suggesting that all old men are pathetic…this is left to the judgment of the reader, as are all written things.)

Olivia Cooke in Bates Motel

And this is why I say that “all my significant others are actresses.”  Such as:  Olivia Cooke (devastating eyes), Anya Taylor-Joy (fabulous white skin), Mckenna Grace (too young but so awesome), Hailee Steinfeld (what?)…but you didn’t want to see me drooling over these people, or others “too numerous to mention.”

They’re coming to take me away, ha ha!” [Link goes to YouTube]

Copyright 2022 (text only) by Alan Carl Nicoll
All Rights Reserved

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