Incapable of the Atrocities of Men
4-23- Tues.
Think: What is a good continuing metaphor for Jim?
The Montreal Canadiens are vying with the New York Rangers to advance in the Stanley Cup playoffs.
But what am I trying to think about here? What humanitarian insight am I working to expose? On the way home, I was thinking of the beggar Jaun Tan, he of the Mexican/Chinese descent, his cardboard sign, his inestimable age, his camp under the overpass--does he have a huge bank account? a condo in Vegas? a laptop? Microsoft stock? cousins in Singapore, Hong Kong, Taiwan, and Monterrey? How will he and Jim meet? Perhaps a tie between Juan and Pete, a money tie...He will give his sign to Jim. He sends money home...?
I've begun transcribing my old journals onto the computer. It's good exercise and I expect I'll uncover material for Jim. I had wanted to keep his character and situation sparse, but I'm not sure that'll work. I'm considering fleshing out his home life~~~~I don't know.
It's been a tough spring for breathing. It's just hot enough today to be uncomfortable. If it was all-out hot, I would be able to resign myself to it.
I read a short story by Margaret Atwood called "Rape Fantasies". It used a flaky, gossipy tone which characterized the women as too ditzy to seriously discuss the topic of rape. It was somewhat funny as satire in the women's casual romanticization of such a violent and degrading act. They were so naive, it seemed. It didn't do much to bolster my opinion of the intellects of the women I attract, but the fact that they could have some compassion for the desperation that drives the attackers I think underscores that they are the gentler sex, nearly incapable of the atrocities of men. Their atrocities are different, at any rate.
I've been playing my guitar a lot lately. I think I'm getting better.
I'm in a very short mood, like my breath. Fucking smog. Seinfeld and the Simpsons are repeats. I'll go take my walk when I get to the bottom of this page.
I want out. I want change. I want to live in Alaska.
I'll do some internet letter. I should take back the $100 worth of fucking software that doesn't work. I might even have the receipt.
Think: What is a good continuing metaphor for Jim?
The Montreal Canadiens are vying with the New York Rangers to advance in the Stanley Cup playoffs.
But what am I trying to think about here? What humanitarian insight am I working to expose? On the way home, I was thinking of the beggar Jaun Tan, he of the Mexican/Chinese descent, his cardboard sign, his inestimable age, his camp under the overpass--does he have a huge bank account? a condo in Vegas? a laptop? Microsoft stock? cousins in Singapore, Hong Kong, Taiwan, and Monterrey? How will he and Jim meet? Perhaps a tie between Juan and Pete, a money tie...He will give his sign to Jim. He sends money home...?
I've begun transcribing my old journals onto the computer. It's good exercise and I expect I'll uncover material for Jim. I had wanted to keep his character and situation sparse, but I'm not sure that'll work. I'm considering fleshing out his home life~~~~I don't know.
It's been a tough spring for breathing. It's just hot enough today to be uncomfortable. If it was all-out hot, I would be able to resign myself to it.
I read a short story by Margaret Atwood called "Rape Fantasies". It used a flaky, gossipy tone which characterized the women as too ditzy to seriously discuss the topic of rape. It was somewhat funny as satire in the women's casual romanticization of such a violent and degrading act. They were so naive, it seemed. It didn't do much to bolster my opinion of the intellects of the women I attract, but the fact that they could have some compassion for the desperation that drives the attackers I think underscores that they are the gentler sex, nearly incapable of the atrocities of men. Their atrocities are different, at any rate.
I've been playing my guitar a lot lately. I think I'm getting better.
I'm in a very short mood, like my breath. Fucking smog. Seinfeld and the Simpsons are repeats. I'll go take my walk when I get to the bottom of this page.
I want out. I want change. I want to live in Alaska.
I'll do some internet letter. I should take back the $100 worth of fucking software that doesn't work. I might even have the receipt.
posted by johnz at 4:10 PM
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