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Dec. 18th, 2012
a new electronic gadgety-box thing
Dec. 18th, 2012 02:01 pmSince it is warming up quite a bit outside, I go to open Pop's office window. I see a new electronic gadgety-box thing on the floor, and I wonder what Pop has gotten for himself this time. "Jeezus, a paper shredded!" For the man who has to have everything, I guess.
LiveJournal is down
Dec. 18th, 2012 03:47 pmLiveJournal is down.
Fine.
I have only been posting my morning quote and nightly post of pictures for the past couple of days anyway. I seem to be losing the blogging spirit, going without any meaningful or fun feedback for this extended length of time.
My book-blogging and my Three Journal are the only things that interest me at this point. Though, to be sure, in my news rounds, I am still happy to stow anway in my blog any item that is particularly remarkable, and thereby capture some of the interesting turnings of the world.
But it just isn't the same thing...
* * * *
I am glad that I finally worked up the nerve to import my LJ to Dreamwidth. Otherwise, at a moment like this, I would be worrying that, when LJ does come back up, we will receive word that they lost our journals. Seriously. Russian business.
Fine.
I have only been posting my morning quote and nightly post of pictures for the past couple of days anyway. I seem to be losing the blogging spirit, going without any meaningful or fun feedback for this extended length of time.
My book-blogging and my Three Journal are the only things that interest me at this point. Though, to be sure, in my news rounds, I am still happy to stow anway in my blog any item that is particularly remarkable, and thereby capture some of the interesting turnings of the world.
But it just isn't the same thing...
* * * *
I am glad that I finally worked up the nerve to import my LJ to Dreamwidth. Otherwise, at a moment like this, I would be worrying that, when LJ does come back up, we will receive word that they lost our journals. Seriously. Russian business.
frozen leftover turkey
Dec. 18th, 2012 07:25 pmPop broke out the frozen leftover turkey from Thanksgiving, and asked me if I wanted to help him finish it off.
My first instinct was to say no.
But he had also bought some fresh dressing, and I decided to play nice and give it a chance.
It was pretty good. I'm glad I did not stick to my original plan to whip up some raviolis. I would have been such an ass.
My first instinct was to say no.
But he had also bought some fresh dressing, and I decided to play nice and give it a chance.
It was pretty good. I'm glad I did not stick to my original plan to whip up some raviolis. I would have been such an ass.
Lo (1,4) Lolita Began with Annabel
Dec. 18th, 2012 09:23 pmIn chapter 4, Nabokov rounds out prettily his tale of Annabel and the role she plays in Humbert’s perverse obsessions.
<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<
I leaf again and again through these miserable memories, and keep asking myself, was it then, in the glitter of that remote summer, that the rift in my life began; or was my excessive desire for that child only the first evidence of an inherent singularity?
When I try to analyze my own cravings, motives, actions and so forth, I surrender to a sort of retroactive imagination which feeds the analytic faculty with boundless alternatives and which causes each visualized route to fork and re-fork without end in the maddeningly complex prospect of my past.
I am convinced, however, that in a certain magic and fateful way Lolita began with Annabel.
-- “Lolita” by Vladimir Nabokov
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
One doubts that Annabel, if she could be given voice, would appreciate the uses to which Humbert puts her, but I suppose we are helpless before the uses that others make of their memories of us. Obsessive perverts, of course, are the worst, but what is a pretty girl to do?
<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<
I leaf again and again through these miserable memories, and keep asking myself, was it then, in the glitter of that remote summer, that the rift in my life began; or was my excessive desire for that child only the first evidence of an inherent singularity?
When I try to analyze my own cravings, motives, actions and so forth, I surrender to a sort of retroactive imagination which feeds the analytic faculty with boundless alternatives and which causes each visualized route to fork and re-fork without end in the maddeningly complex prospect of my past.
I am convinced, however, that in a certain magic and fateful way Lolita began with Annabel.
-- “Lolita” by Vladimir Nabokov
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
One doubts that Annabel, if she could be given voice, would appreciate the uses to which Humbert puts her, but I suppose we are helpless before the uses that others make of their memories of us. Obsessive perverts, of course, are the worst, but what is a pretty girl to do?