blog (January, 2002)
we live, as we dream...
Today I watched Apocalypse Now (for the first time) here at the library. Kurtz's character suddenly made a clear picture of what I've been reading of Nietzsche about stronger humans, meant to rule; the supermen he envisions leading humanity. I've never seen anyone like this, nor been driven to follow any man by his presence. The only exception to this is when, a couple years back, Jen showed me a picture of the 17th Karmapa, whom she met on her trip to Tibet, and I was immediately struck by the strength and will apparent in his face, in his eyes. I begged her for a copy of the picture, and that, coincidentally was my present in her letter yesterday. It was a different picture of him, though -- he looks pleasant and peaceful -- nothing like the first I'd seen.
Continuing the coincidence, Apocalypse Now is based on Joseph Conrad's Heart of Darkness, which we read in senior-year English together, and of which the protagonist shares Jen's last name.
I left the university trying to harden my eyes and face, and exude power. People passing as you walk are more likely to look at you if you do not make any attempt look at them. Is this because they don't fear the ever so frightening locking-of-eyes, because they are not worried you'll catch them looking at you, or because it makes you more interesting that you have some other motive -- something else on your mind -- than to pay attention to them?
the morning wind forever blows
This morning the wind and postman brought me a letter from across the big pond -- enclosed was a small gift from jen and her hope that I might be "watching the waters off that Grand Old Isle."
I took her advice and headed out to the bay, and found a seat on the rocks at the end of the pier. The wind blasted my face while I sat, drawing tears from my eyes, and I was afraid that the dog-walkers would misread my exhiliration for sorrow.
Swans, pidgeons, ducks, and the heron that flies around the city and teaches me lessons entertained me as the wind slapped the waves up against the rocks. The pidgeons are anxious and flutter here and there, surprised by something I can't see. The seagulls love the wind, and I am sure they are at play and enjoying it thoroughly. The ducks slice straight through the wind rather than catching the gusts. The swans rarely fly, but when they do, their necks are stretched out and their wings enormous -- they look like white warplanes in my tear-blurred eyes. The heron squaks once to get my attention. I wouldn't have noticed him had he not. He strikes off into the distance, and I almost wonder if I should follow him -- if it's another message.
I am bulletproof this evening, just off work with a caffeine drive. Now the i-net cafe is closing and I am off into the night.
Intuition
Tuesday brought a drive into Connemara with David, Alvar, and Mira, friends from the Salmon Weir. Fishing and lunch, and some sightseeing.
We left Mira in Clifden and returned to the hostel. I had just enough time to grab a bite before heading over to the university for the 7'oclock lecture on Intuition I had seen posters for a few days back. As it turned out, the lecture wasn't to begin until 8, so I moved to the library's media center to kill the time and grabbed a movie from the rack. Unhappy with the first choice, I found another. Then again, and finally settled on Deux ou trois choses que je sais d'elle (Two or Three Things I Know About Her), a Godard film about thoughts, language, objects, Vietnam, prostitution, and Paris. Half way through, I pressed Stop and returned to my regularly scheduled programming in the lecture hall.
Summary:
Intuition and coincidence are forms of foreknowledge brought about by our memory of the future. This future memory is a latent power due to our upbringing in an environment that stresses forward time -- the reason children exhibit more intuition, (their mind hasn't been forced down one path yet.)
The man had a few good ideas, and who knows if he was right about some things, but his methods and scientific means were very flimsy, his speech superficial, and he enjoyed mentioning the originality of his work. He was apt to say he could prove something, or that he would "speak of this later," without doing either. I left after an hour and returned to the library.
My friend Jamie was stationed at another television, and I approached him to say hello. Coincidentally, he was watching a different Godard film, (tho for other reasons.)
I fell back into Two or Three Things..., and the young child of the film said,
I dreamt I was walking all alone at the edge of a cliff. The path was only wide enough for one person. Suddenly I saw two twins walking towards me. I wondered how the would get past. Suddenly one of the twins went towards the other...and they bacame one person. And I realised that these two people were North and South Vietnam being reunited. What is language Mummy?
Free Media
Live Music
The music scene here is fantastic; I can see good/decent live music every night of the week for free at the local pubs. Irish traditional music is nice, and easy to find, but the run-of-the-mill trad group is usually better for background bar activity than straight-up music appreciation. There are a few good standard rock cover bands, but they're getting a bit old after a few shows each. There's a reggae/ska band that gets down well enough but whose set I've all but memorized, and an African group that tosses out light, extended grooves, and is good for a lazy evening alone. Then there's the Wednesday night open mic, which I keep saying I'll participate in - next week... But there are still some periodic acts I haven't checked out yet, as well as the occasional bigger small-time artist that plays for free, usually at the Roisin Dubh.
Dead Music
We have a cd/tape player in the kitchen at the Salmon, but a meager and disappointing collection of media. Sometimes travellers passing through bring along their collections, but I haven't run across anything particularly interesting yet. The last few days Bobby Dylan has sung while I cooked, which, while comforting, is known to me -- and does not fulfill my constant need of new noise. On the other side, last weekend in Castlebar I awoke to Van Morrison's Astral Weeks album; an extremely pleasant (and new-to-me) experience.
Lit
My Galway Public Library card was one of the best 2 euro investments I've made, and after finishing James'The American, and Thoreau's Walden & Civil Disobedience from home, I borrowed and read Joe Henderson's mediocre Marathon Training book, then graduated to Einstein's Ideas and Opinions and Bertrand Russell's In Praise of Idleness, both of which I'm currently buried in.
Net
Here I am. A friend's help has granted me unlimited internet access at the local university, (I won't link to it to avoid losing this access,) so I can use the computers in the labs and the library whenever they're open. Next step = account on the unix machines here.
Film
The same university's library does not enforce its policy of displaying an ID card upon enterring; along with the computers, I can (and do) read books, magazines and reference material, though without the possibility of borrowing them. They also have an excellent video collection and viewing stations. Today off from work, and designated a lazy day by my tight schedule, I took in Taxi Driver and Blade Runner. The former was excellent and interesting - and while profound and intelligent, very accessible and relate-able for anyone. Blade Runner I didn't enjoy as much, partly due to my sitting in a chair too long, the small television screen and videocassette not allowing me to appreciate the movie's best feature: its special effects, and the presence of Harrison Ford's bad narration, which I understand is not in the more recently released director's cut edition.
Yeah
You might call me stupid to travel to a different country then spend lots of time enjoying what I could at home. I would try, uselessly, at a few poor rebuttals, then finish with a "you're stupid too."
Reasoning
I woke up this morning with more than a small feeling of regret. I came home from The Huntsman yesterday evening knowing I had once again overeaten -- it's so easy, working in a kitchen -- I've got food at my fingertips all day long. But there was a barbecue on at the hostel, and I proceeded to take care of three hamburgers, probably a dozen little fried fish, some rice-haddock salad, french fries, and god knows what else. I could've thanked myself for stomaching so much food as it probably prevented a hangover from too much cheap red wine, but a hangover is just a punishment for overindulgence; and mine was of food not spirits.
Anyway, I woke up early and walked around Galway, with the excuses of buying my weekly bread, eggs and milk, and visiting the Social Welfare office to collect my new Social Services card, and my thoughts were focused on my overconsumption and what I would do about it. My decisions were in depth, and I tried to think up a good way to express them here, but couldn't seem to get past the idea of how stupid it seems for me to write about how I ate too much, and that I actually spent a morning's walk meditating that.
I just got another email today asking me why I'm here. The Philipinos I work with can't grasp the idea that someone holding a computer science degree is washing dishes. I am not sure myself much of the time what I'm doing. But this morning I feel certain that I'm simplifying my life for awhile, so that I have an opportunity to actually observe myself and my world. I have fewer worldly obligations here and now, (though I'm neglecting some,) and so am able to concentrate my attention on little things like I did this morning; address a tendency of mine with observation, and come to some kind of a conclusion.
My temperament swings up and too far down for my liking, (strikes and gutters, as The Dude would say,) and it's nice to take some time out to try and balance myself a bit. So, there ya go, Renatto at the Huntsman, and Tim at Harvard, and Mom at home... and Me. That's why I'm here... in Ireland... washing dishes.
pre-lunch crunch
Alan & I have temporarily given up on trying to teach computer skills in our classes. We've done a lot of work in setting up a good computing environment, and we're a bit worn down, ambition-wise. The kids are only interested in games and email for the most part, anyway. The oldest ones are the worst behaving and the youngest the most unaware, so for projects and activities we generally focus on the middle-aged kids; 9-12 year-olds or so. But lately we've been letting them surf the web and play games -- Snood and Marathon are the favorites -- and help them with whatever problems they run into.
This gives us some freedom, though. Alan burns a lot of cd's of music and software that we have at our disposal, and surfs around the topic of Neo-Tech, which seems to outline a strategy for personal happiness through Eastern Thought with a modern twist. I've been looking for a new job; still hoping to stay and work in the UK upon my trip to Ireland (leaving August 9th,) but apprehensive of how I will manage this.
It's nearly time for lunch, and I'm dreading it. Every meal is such a chore; the kids in my bunk are a handfull. So selfish when it comes to the food on our table, so competitive and argumentative, so rude and hurtful. The greediness is not so much an issue to me anymore; it is overshadowed by the bullying and spite. I've run out of ways to ease the tension; taking away their night-time "canteen" (candy and soda) privileges and making them stack the table's dishes don't have much of an effect anymore. I'm trying to figure out and learn new ways to deal with it, but not getting very far.
Here goes...
been a long time
I've been at summer camp. It a good place set in New York's Catskill Mountains, about 2 hours from The City. I'm a counselor/specialist, which means I have a number of kids I live with and look out for, and during the day I teach at the camp. Six 55-minute periods per day. I work five out of six, and have the other one off. Most of the rest of the day's time is spent with my kids in the bunk, playing sports/activities, or in the dining hall. Two nights a week I'm on duty from 9:30-12:30, the other 5 I'm free to do what I please (until the 12:30 curfew.)
I am the Computers specialist, which takes a little of the summer out of summer camp. I'm inside the new (but unfinished) air-conditioned building at camp most of the day; my five periods of work, plus my two on-duty nights, and more. I've pulled a few half-nighters here in the lab; there's so much to set up (apparently curfew doesn't apply if you're working for the camp's benefit...) My job has been frustrating as I'm a counselor, a teacher, and the camp's IT guy. I've had to set up and configure all of the computers and the network, which includes moving the machines into the new building, which still has no flooring, temporary tables, and constant hammering noises from the builders upstairs/in the next room. There is another guy, Alan, working with me in teaching computers, and he is a graphics wiz -- so that helps with teaching the kids, but not with any of the IT stuff... Alan and I moved the computers into the lab the day before camp began, and had to begin teaching the following day. Each period and free time if the computers aren't being used by the campers, the counselors are using them to email, so installing and configuring the machines is quite a difficulty. Which means we don't have adequate tools for the kids to work with. Not that they want to do anything but games and internet anyway. But, to end my bitching, things are steadily coming together; the lab is finally beginning to be quite useful and usable, and we're slowly learning to turn the kids on to things they can do with the computers.
I arrived on the 14th to begin work here. After a terrific at home bbq the night before with my friends, I had a pretty terrible next day. Packing bags with a slight hangover, driving four hours, missing a deer and hitting a guardrail instead, then driving a camp kitchen staff member home and getting lost on the way back really blew my day. Being in an unknown place with unknown people is enough to make life difficult.
Campers didn't come until June 22nd. I arrived early because I'll be leaving early. I felt quite like a stranger in my own country during pre-camp. Of the 80 (guess) or so counselors at pre-camp, there were 4 Americans. The rest were mostly Aussies and Kiwis, and even since the rest of the Americans arrived, the Pacific islanders still make up the majority. I had not expected this, but it's been a terrific experience. I dreaded and now almost regret the day the Americans showed up. Pre-camp was fantastic, though; it was as if we were at our own summer camp. We worked 9-5 during the day, then had the night to do as we pleased. It wasn't until the campers arrived that I realized how nice we had it. Once the little buggers showed up, we were rudely awakened to the fact that we had been living for ourselves, and everything was about to change.
24 and so much more
It was a long saturday; a few of us just took to some sober appreciation of the altar of entertainment in our suite room tonight. We put on a vinyl copy of Neil Young's Harvest, and I laid floorwise in front of the speakers, eyes closed. I found the other day that I can trigger, or sort of let myself feel, some kind of electric senation course through my body, and so I squeezed this flow on every time my thoughts drifted to it, and tried to slow my heartbeat to match the rhythm of the bass drum.
I think I was very content for those 40 minutes or so, but what good is that now...?
I had plans of working on my Operating Systems assignment tonight to finish it early, but I think those were only made because I wanted something to cover up from myself the fact that I didn't have anything overly social going on tonight. Why am I always trying to trick myself? What a stupid game.
See the lonely boy, out on the weekend
Trying to make it pay.
Can't relate to joy, he tries to speak and
Can't begin to say.-- Neil Young, Out on the Weekend