My Secret Shame #775

When I first got my apartment I felt unshackled from all those bothersome rules of cleanliness, including those about hanging up one's clothes. I soon had a nasty mound of dirty clothes in an alcove closet between the bathroom and the hall. It turned into many connected mounds. Some nice clothes (that my parents bought me) wound up in that pile, and some of them stayed there until I decided I'd rather not bother with them... better to clean the same week's worth of clothes over and over, and let the surplus sit. Which it did. For years.

My girlfriend may be in North Carolina, but she still has her house here in the 'Ham. She's renting it out and the new tenant moves in on March 1. I have until then to use Laurie's laundry machines (with her blessing) to see how much of this musty old clothing can be saved. The next time those of you who know me see me, I may be wearing some clothes you've never seen before. I may also smell like a basement. I can't trust my sense of smell, so for cryin' out loud, spray me with lysol if you think it needs doing.

Hank and the Green Knight

I'm almost done with Morte Arthur (finally) and it got me thinking about my Medieval Lit class in college. We read Gawain and the Green Knight, which involves the Knight Gawain going through a series of moral tests that he didn't know were tests, orchestrated by the mysterious Green Knight. Another guy in the class, Hank, was perplexed by this. He kept asking what gave the Green Knight the right to test people. IIRC our Professor made the case that the Green Knight wasn't to be understood as a peer, but as an anthropomorphic representation of God or Nature or whatever else puts us through our paces in life; Fate with a face on it. Hank wasn't satisfied with this answer, and made a little film (he was clever that way) adapting the story and placing Hank's question about who's the "bad guy," Gawain or the Green Knight, right up front. I remember thinking the film was cool, and I hope someone out there has it and slaps it on Youtube.

In that class we also read a lot of medeval theology, and Hank asked how we were to apply these readings to our spiritual walks. The prof answered that it was up to us, and we didn't have to; the point of reading it was to understand the people of the age, not to adopt their beliefs.

Hank loved to climb ledges, mountains, etc. He was planning to get a job on an oil derrick or something, but while still a student he fell to his death on one of his recreational climbs. It was a shame that someone so vigorously and actively pursuing answers and experiences about life (in direct contrast to my timid, cloistered approach to life) should be cut down so early.

Berries

Although Laurie makes awesome breakfasts, one day we went to breakfast at the diner in Kannapolis. She craved pancakes but had no mix. And (here's the key thing) she smuggled in blueberries.

I didn't notice if she used any syrup (Aunt Jemima... Laurie has been known to buy real high-octane maple syrup, but the diner just had Aunt Jemima), but with those berries who needs syrup?

I've always been nervous about sneaking one's own food into a restaraunt, fearing that the staff would take offence and give me the bum rush. What an absurd fear.

Then we walked around the block to the Memorial Park for Dale Ernhardt. Neither one of us care about NASCAR, but it's a lovely park, and Dale's big statue is quite appealing.

***

Saw some good theatre there. Saw some unappetizing theatre there. Really extreme. Really good or really not.

I Can Appolis!

I am in the quaint little Town of Kannapolis, just north of Charlotte NC, where my sweetie lives now. There's a cute little movie theatre (Haven't been in yet, but the old fashioned marquee is to die for) and a teensy diner with not-too-adorable fifties decor, a waitress witha brassy voice, and country ham biscuits.

Last night we went to a play: Edmund by David Mamet. A smart, stylish production. I'm happy to find good theatre here, but gloomy to discover it's more volunteer theatre. Still, one of the cast members has worked on Arrested Development, my fave sitcom, so it's possible to live here yet do pro work. Somehow... I was tempted to stay and pick brains after the show, but we were sleepy and as usual laziness won out over ambition. For the same reason, I'll stop posting here for the time being.

Self-Censorship

Every time I look at my sitemeter I discover that another batch of seekers has stumbled across my blog by looking for a certain topic. The topic is naval s--b, with a t and an a in between the s and the b. This annoys me more than it should (I mean, WTF?), so I've gone through this blog and --ed the offending word.

Second Post of the Day: Home Boy Hikikomori

I know where these goofballs are coming from, but I'm glad to have escaped the vicious cycle. Pity and frustration intermingle...

Link courtesy of Tom Spurgeon at comicsreporter.com.

3 Takes on Lovecraft

No time for a real post. Here's three different, interesting takes on one of my high school fave writers, H. P. Lovecraft, who is best enjoyed in high school.

M. John Harrison

Ken Hite's Tour de Lovecraft... he reviews every story in the Penguin collection.

Noah Berlasky.

Corrected for some of my most dreadful spelling errors.