Movie reviews, Durant book, Thriftbooks complaint, sudoku books, my new schedule, Twitter popularity, Anatol Lieven interview, novel plotting.
A dream; failure of creativity; my stupidity; Twitter squabble; pit of despair?; Blade movies; feeling drained and confused.
COVID escaped from a lab; my fecklessness; The Craft of Fiction; Taibbi on vigilante spying.
YouTube discoveries; Mayim Bialik; extended cognition; new novel & the coming doom; movie criticism strikes sparks; book idea; horror in India.
Solving my angst? Reconsidering The Lolita Curse; to drink or not to drink; silent ringer kerfuffle; Irish Reader; haiku posted; Twitter dialogues; news sources; etc.
Highlander: I’ll be as honest as I can given that I’ve only ever read your tweets. You seem to me to be a liberal philosopher, slightly damaged, but feisty, a bit cantankerous, but we all get that way with age, and Impassioned about not only your beliefs but with ideas. You like to share.
Persistent vertigo interfered with my Writers Writing this morning, as did the arrival of Pablo at about 9:30, but I put in three and a half hours, mostly working on KM. New macros I had added to my “ribbon” didn’t work, though they worked yesterday, so I still have confusion about how macros are saved and templates and so on. That’s pretty damned frustrating, though there have been workarounds so far. Even more frustrating is that the “help system” is generally useless and stupidly designed. I’ve been doing word processing since around 1980, and computer and macro programming for decades, yet when it comes to Word, I’m practically a beginner—despite extensive (though fifteen-year-old) experience with Visual Basic. Naturally, I blame Microsoft, not myself.
So, up to age ten or twelve, life seemed to me entirely trouble-free and a complete pleasure of outwardly-directed activities. Yet as a teenager I was mindlessly destructive, a petty thief, and very troubled and unhappy—but also, while I thought it the best of times, I dreaded having to become an adult. Puberty was not kind to me, and I cannot begin to fathom what went wrong, if anything did. I guess that I mean physically, because everything was wrong mentally and behaviorally.
Yesterday I had pretty well decided to start a Nietzsche Club; today, I’ve decided not to. Reading the Cambridge Companion to Nietzsche and finding that “experts disagree” on many important concepts in his works (including the “will to power” and the “superman”), I’m thinking that maybe he’s not worth so much attention after all. As it is, I’ve already read all his best books, and a couple of them more than once, though I am reading The Will to Power now as my bedtime reading. Perhaps I could start a philosophy reading group. I’ll think about it.
Woke some time after midnight and it’s now 1:20 AM. I was reading Wing-Tsit Chan: A Source Book in Chinese Philosophy, just getting started and enjoying it, but I looked at the three books on my bedside table and saw Eugene Thacker: Infinite Resignation. And had this thought that I wanted to record here: how can I go back to that book while I have not read this one yet?
One late evening I poured into twitter my pain over the Florida shooting victims. Here are those tweets, thrown together.