Hydration

After a lot of searching, a month ago at Target I found and bought a nice plastic water bottle. It has a one liter capacity, a wide mouth, and a top with a small closeable hole in it. I bought it to use at work, because I think I need to drink more water, and not having water close by in a convenient container has been preventing this needed hydration. And in superb followup, I have actually been drinking more water out of this nicely designed water bottle. And today for the first time I noticed the unwanted side effect that I am now needing the urinal many more times per day. Today I have gone a lot. I usually go a lot, but this was a lot even for me. I won't tell you how much, because I don't want you to be jealous. But it was not a little. It was a lot. Can I keep up the hydration momentum? Will I regress to my dry old self? These and many other burning questions will all be answered in time.

Vernors

Someone suggested to me today that I take a bike ride to Mt. Vernon. I joked that I'd rather go to Mt. Vernors. They didn't get the joke.

Take an interest and smoke it

Oh, I have interests, to be sure. I have interests aplenty. Like creating places on the internet where I can say self important things. I’m interested in many, many things, and that is the proof that I have none. I have joined every club, taken every class, tried every activity. My attachment to some is deeper and lasts longer than to others, but none takes on the dominating role of INTEREST. That thing that consumes, that drives, that leads someone to enjoy and need to do everything related to that thing. But fuck it, right?

My interest in whales...

I have a few observations regarding The Whale's controversial and hotly debated claim that "Part of being interesting is being interested" (by the way, we all agree that his name should be written "The Whale," rather than "the Whale," right? It's not just me?).

First of all, I don't understand why The Whale doesn't think that he has interests. I have spoken with him at length since I have known him -- when we got into a fight at Camp Michigania as 12-year-olds -- and he has always seemed to have things that he is interested in, although he has also generally been drawn to suggestions that he does not have any interests. What is up with that? Care to comment, The Whale?

Second, in the last few months, I have had the opportunity to hang out with a few people who I could imagine becoming my close friends, and in doing so, I got the feeling that I was flexing muscles--friend making muscles--that I had not flexed since probably my junior year of college. What is up with that? I am not really sure, actually. I think that a part of the problem is that I am kind of a snob about people, and particularly friends. There aren't a lot of people that I find truly interesting. But more importantly, I have very high standards for friends. I was extremely lucky to grow up with a pretty amazing group of guys, and I don't find myself able or willing to settle for less in my friends -- I want people with bizarre and hilarious senses of humor, who are extremely smart and interesting, and who I believe that I can absolutely count on to be there for me. There aren't alot of people like that in the world.

back with Harry (part 4)

If The Prisoner of Azkaban is a portrayal of grief, The Goblet of Fire is a book about togetherness. How groups of people overlap, how they can enchant or frighten one another, and how they can fall into conflict--variations on the theme of community is the understructure for the fourth and most adventuresome Harry Potter book.

The opening chapters repeatedly show the wizard and Muggle worlds colliding. An old gardener stumbles into Voldemort's lair, where Wormtail promptly kills him; the Weasley and Dursely families have a very awkward, and very British, visit when Harry gets picked up; and at the Quidditch World Cup, the Muggles are by turns imitated, mocked, brainwashed, and tortured.

Rowling explores the frictions and interdependencies among wizard communities in still greater detail. The Quidditch World Cup is naturally an international event. At Hogwarts, characters from all four houses are prominently featured for the first time in the series--besides Harry & co. from Griffindor, and Draco et al. from Slytherin, we now have Cedric from Hufflepuff and Cho from Ravenclaw. The Goblet of Fire also introduces racism/speciesism, or the sub-theme of prejudice among communities, both through Hagrid's shame of being half-giant, and through Hermoine's efforts to free the house elves.

Communities may clash, but they also unite in unexpected ways. For the Yule Ball numerous couples cross house and school lines. In the Triwizard Tournament, more significantly, the representatives of different schools at first compete mercilessly, and then begin to help one another. This culminates after the third task, when Harry and Cedric both refuse to take the winner's cup individually, but agree to grab it together.

The symbolism here is not subtle, but Dumbledore spells it out all the same: "Differences of habit and language are nothing [...] if our aims are identical and our hearts are open." I don't fault Rowling here for announcing her message so loudly. Clarity is one of her great strengths, and besides--if you don't think the world needs to be reminded of the dangers of animosity between and intolerance within communities, open a newspaper.

a maxim from the Whale

"Part of being interesting is being interested."

back with Harry (part 1.1)

Last week I came across a line in Adorno which I think speaks to my first post on the Harry Potter series: "[T]he whole retroactively invigorates the elements that brought it about."

The shame is that it took Adorno many pages to come up with something so pithy.

The Simple Farewell

This is not a post about ending a five month relationship, because I don't care much about that. The interesting part about that goodbye was what do you say at the end of the conversation? "See you later" is usually not entirely true but at least plausible, but in this case not even. Good luck seems a little business like. But I've always been a believer that the actual words matter little. When you understand the situation and the feelings, just get on with it. Which is why I don't do long goodbyes. You can't capture everything in a few words at the very end, no matter how profound those words are. It's been a while now that I've noticed that people linger on their goodbyes, even on the phone. You've always got to have a reason to go other than the fact that you have nothing left to say or are simply tired of talking, and goodbye is never enough but has to be preceded by a healthy bout of well wishing. Even if it's good luck grocery shopping! or have fun waxing your ass! it's always "OK. I'm gonna go stare at the wall now. Hope your laundry comes out well. See ya."
I think if I could back off from my opposition to many conversational conventions I would somehow be more satisfied with social interactions. Even I've fallen prey to the well wishing bug. But while I'll bend, I'll never break. I'm done writing for now. Have fun doing other stuff.