Reading
Reading this psychological analysis of Emily Dickinson's life is tough going.
Every description of a psychologically significant event triggers comparisons with my own formative processes and I drift off into waking reveries and wonderings about my life and times and find myself lost on the page searching for the sentence that threw me off the trail.
Quite annoying.
Because, of course Life is made up of significant psychological events and we all experience them all.
We don't all hide in the attic literally as E.D.did but to some extent we all seek a place of safety, job, power, political office, society, religious fantasy, art, "the future", "life on other planets", movies, etc
It futile, of course, and it's the degree of immersion in the dream that measures relative "sanity".
Because the reality is that your best and safest place is on this planet with your feet on the ground, your eyes, ears, nose, and mind open.
Turning your senses inward can lead to a sliding scale from mild amusement to suicide
So, anyway I think that analysis of this sort seems to me often to be looking at things from the wrong direction. Saying that traumatic events in one's formation "cause" psychosis is not as convincing as saying that latent psychosis makes certain life events traumatic.
The "old maid" stereotype, the physically healthy but sexually repressed older woman locking herself in her room fantasizing about rapists is a staple character of the arts of theater, movies, and gossip.
But, we are all born with legs a certain length, hair a certain color and minds of specific strengths and weaknesses.
Nudge, nudge, wink, wink, knowhattImean, knowhattImean?
We could be a little nicer to each other but religion and the law for their own subversive motivations make that a risky course of action.
AIDA was apparently terrific.
I personally was enduring a slightly runny nose a bout of lethargy and spent most of the show waiting for it to be over.
In retrospect, however the set, the acting, the singing, all of it was magnificent.
It just seems that all this genius could be better employed than to display the actions of idiots who "fall in love" and screw up their and everybody else's life.
O.K. "La Boheme" is about people who care about each other, but it's not much of a moral lesson that nothing can be done about disease.
In spite of the medical establishment's loony fantasies about it's own efficacy.
But I suppose the catharsis is useful, letting the monkey out in a safe and controlled environment has got to be better than "keeping it all in".
Better to cheer Aida and Rademes removing themselves from the gene pool than to take it out on me.
Let's face it, it's the ruling class that enjoys these things and if it keeps them from taking it out on us social inferiors, so much the better.
So, once again; "Screw the Seattle Symphony Orchestra".
Every description of a psychologically significant event triggers comparisons with my own formative processes and I drift off into waking reveries and wonderings about my life and times and find myself lost on the page searching for the sentence that threw me off the trail.
Quite annoying.
Because, of course Life is made up of significant psychological events and we all experience them all.
We don't all hide in the attic literally as E.D.did but to some extent we all seek a place of safety, job, power, political office, society, religious fantasy, art, "the future", "life on other planets", movies, etc
It futile, of course, and it's the degree of immersion in the dream that measures relative "sanity".
Because the reality is that your best and safest place is on this planet with your feet on the ground, your eyes, ears, nose, and mind open.
Turning your senses inward can lead to a sliding scale from mild amusement to suicide
So, anyway I think that analysis of this sort seems to me often to be looking at things from the wrong direction. Saying that traumatic events in one's formation "cause" psychosis is not as convincing as saying that latent psychosis makes certain life events traumatic.
The "old maid" stereotype, the physically healthy but sexually repressed older woman locking herself in her room fantasizing about rapists is a staple character of the arts of theater, movies, and gossip.
But, we are all born with legs a certain length, hair a certain color and minds of specific strengths and weaknesses.
Nudge, nudge, wink, wink, knowhattImean, knowhattImean?
We could be a little nicer to each other but religion and the law for their own subversive motivations make that a risky course of action.
AIDA was apparently terrific.
I personally was enduring a slightly runny nose a bout of lethargy and spent most of the show waiting for it to be over.
In retrospect, however the set, the acting, the singing, all of it was magnificent.
It just seems that all this genius could be better employed than to display the actions of idiots who "fall in love" and screw up their and everybody else's life.
O.K. "La Boheme" is about people who care about each other, but it's not much of a moral lesson that nothing can be done about disease.
In spite of the medical establishment's loony fantasies about it's own efficacy.
But I suppose the catharsis is useful, letting the monkey out in a safe and controlled environment has got to be better than "keeping it all in".
Better to cheer Aida and Rademes removing themselves from the gene pool than to take it out on me.
Let's face it, it's the ruling class that enjoys these things and if it keeps them from taking it out on us social inferiors, so much the better.
So, once again; "Screw the Seattle Symphony Orchestra".
Labels: Random jabbering
posted by Lane Savant at 9:53 AM
2 Comments:
Hallo, Lane, et al!!
Grüße aus Deutschland an Dich, Meredith, und Keth von mir und die "Lovely Librarian"!!
Glad you admired the "Aida" production!!
Why "bang" the Sea Symph ORCHESTRA; most of the MUSICIANS are great people and performers;
the problem is not on the 2nd floor, but on the 5th!!
Tschüß,
Anonomann + LL
You are beginning to paint quite a different picture of the lovely Miss Emmie, as this sexually repressed recluse, hiding in her attic dreaming about rapists. Like the old joke about the nun walking in her vineyard, when a big pair of hairy hands reaches out and grabs her, drags her into the bushes and rapes her. As she is readjusting her habit, she recognizes one of the gardeners for the convent. He asked her,"What are you going to tell Mother Superior about this?". She looked at him calmly and said,"That I was walking in the vineyard, and I was attacked by an unknown assailant and raped....two times if you are not too tired."
I just spend an entire weekend listening to my grandsons scream. Raising children must be the one most unforgiving and all consuming activity in this world. Every minute of every day revolves around them, their poopy diapers, their feedings, their tantrums, their naps. God, what an old fuddy duddy I am becoming. Melva and I rented another room for Saturday night just to have some peace and quiet.
As to the emotional state of each of our lives, yeah, we have several peak experiences to reflect on. There are those who claim that here on earth, and only on this particular plane of existence, is emotion a plus, a factor--it's what makes us human, it's what attracts entities to live life after life here. So don't knock it; enjoy it. It is what makes you such a colorful individual. It is your passion and anger and insight or lack of it. It is what keeps you composing music and pumping Fidelio.
I can't follow the logic within the bulk of your treatise or argument. Perhaps I am a bit thick this morning. We put gas in the daughter's Tundra and it cost us 80 bucks to fill it up. I am still pumped up about your Prius. There will be some great trips and tales relative to that Jap beer can one of these days. When are you going to Lake Quinault? Does that happen in September?
Lethargy plus a runny nose, now that is some powerful stuff. No wonder you could not leap up and down about AIDA while watching it. Nice that you could make reference, however, to its magnificence in retrospect.
Good news you found a part that will work on the Volvo. It is getting too nasty out for you to have to ride your bike or scooter ad infintum.
Anonomann makes an excellent point. SSO does not stand for just the orchestra, right? Have you got your floors mixed up? 2 or 5? 5 or 2? Rancor apparently knows no boundaries.
Glenn
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