LeFou, I'm afraid I've been thinking . . .

I've been thinking about the world as myths and dreams this weekend along with a bunch of other stuff. I'm really glad this is my group's theme, because I think dreams can be powerful and sometimes, often times true to some degree. I was thinking about Joseph, the dream interpreter, and how dreams can be bridges to God or enlightenment or a life beyond the one we're living. My mom has pretty powerful dreams- they have a strong emotional impact for her. Mine are pretty much just trips; I can't usually derive much meaning out of them- like the one I had last weekend was like a Beatles song. It was crazy. Sometimes though, I'll have a dream and a few days later I have it again, or I'll live it. A very déjà vu kind of thing. I was in 6th grade, and I had mutated chicken pox (not as bad the real deal, but still lame) and I had a weird dream about this woman with short hair and blond highlights. That week, I saw the same woman at the doctor's office, and she knew my name. Being a cool-minded, rational person, I remember hiding behind my mom; and the lady turned out to be my first grade teacher who had moved to a different school when I was 7. She wasn't offended or anything- I had always been a shy kid in elementary school- but my mom thought I was being stupid and made fun of me.
Moving onwards, looking at the world of myth and dreams also made me think of religion. I read this semester that religion of any sort is kind of a myth, because it explains how the world came into being. My mom hates this definition, but I see the point, and I kind of like it. I think myths have a connotation of being unreliable or fairy tale-like, but I think myths have more power than that. They are stories, but they stir more in the soul than just happiness or moral satisfaction. They make you wonder and dream; and dreams take you where they please. The subconsciousness stuff.
Which brings me to FW among other things. I have really enjoyed listening to Prof. Leubner read out loud. It really makes it come alive. So, my boyfriend and I started reading bits of it aloud. Sometimes we read the page I plan to pick apart, and sometimes we just pick random pages, because it's more fun that way. The other day, we opened a page, and it sounded dirty. I realize that the other day we just talked about how dirty this book truly is, but it was just funny. It kind of reminded me of that game, "Dirty Minds." I've never really played it before, but the gist seems to be riddles and puns that sound dirty but have innocent solutions. For example: "The more you play with me the harder I get" is "Rubik's Cube." Funny, yes?
That reminds me about the pun thing we were supposed to do- Prof. Sexson is right about saying them in your head rather than out loud. I came out with some the other night while hanging out with friends. After five or ten minutes, I got a sarcastic, "Wow Bizz, really?" and a half sincere smile. I don't recommend it.
Anyway, back to subconscious desires, I thought about tons of things from my childhood actually. Disney's emphasis on dreams, for example. "A Dream is a wish your heart makes." It's all unconscious desires and lives you wished you had. "Once Upon a Dream" is about a life or a day this girl's lived in a dream, and it actually comes true, or happens again. There is a book called, "Awake and Dreaming." It's about a little girl who has a terrible home life but dreams herself into a family she sees riding the bus. It becomes real for her, and from what I remember of the book, sense of "real" time gets lost, because we're in this life she's created until one day, she wakes up and she's back the way she was. I think she tries to go back, but it's lost. I'd have to read it again; I might have butchered it. "Fight Club" reminds me of this in a way. He created an alter ego of who he wanted to be, but lost where reality was. It's interesting how our desires can twist perceptions around. I once heard of a pregnant man, who wasn't pregnant, but was so torn up by the death of his partner, his mind caused his body to make a false pregnancy. His belly swelled out and his breasts lactated, which baffled doctors since the guy wasn't wired to do that.
Anyway, I think I poured out most of the thoughts I was thinking for this class. Even the title- I was in the mood for some "Beauty and the Beast," if you couldn't guess. I just wanted to get it all out before I forgot.

First venture into FW

I started reading FW a couple of days ago and got to page 5. Since then, I've been skipping around a bit and trying to push from 5 onward. I'm determined to finish this book someday, eventually, but the passages that make the most sense are the ones we've talked about. However, I do love his usage of German in the book. I'm not fluent in German at all, but I like that I can pick out some words that have a connection. For example: "wielderfight" on the first page is "wiederfight" to fight again, "sosie"="so she" or "himals" could be "Himmel" which is heaven or I guess it could be the Himalayas, if it wasn't the German translation.
Something else I noticed and really liked was this line: "Phall if you but will, rise you must: and none so soon either shall the pharce for the nunce come to a setdown secular phoenish." I thought it was interesting, because Prof. Leubner talked about the cycle of death and rebirth and the impression or the sense I felt was the phase between dying and rising was the hardest part. Knowing you are fading and going through who knows what to rise again. But falling in that passage makes me feel like it's just a fancy. It's an "if," a fancy. There is a sense of inevitable though in that second half. Everything has to end. Perhaps the "if" is just choosing when to fall. We might be able to choose that, but we can't decide if we want to rise, because we are compelled to do so. It's in our nature. Ich weiβ nicht.

Happy Ends, Sad Ends, To do list

So a 20 minute lifetime. I wanted to come up with an example of something that I did or experienced that would fit this, but I can't quite figure out what constitutes a lifetime. Some people fade out so early and some so late. I have a list of things I have to do before I float on, and I wondered if that list was something that would really complete my life or if I could do without it. You know how people say, "I can't die without doing. . . something. ." or "If only this would happen, I could die happy." As if we only have to complete one purpose and life could be over. Take a big moment in someone's life. The Heisman Trophy winner this year from Alabama. I feel like he might have lived a lifetime in that presentation where they summed up his life and he gave his speech. I think he could have died right there, being wholly satisfied or climaxing in victory over the struggles and work that he relived in video clips and interviews. If that's a lifetime, I think I've got one.
So the night my boyfriend and I started dating, I remember we were sitting in a playground set cubby thing sometime in the evening about to address our "friendship" and the complicated high school drama circling us and two other people. Good times. I don't really talk to people when I have a crush, and I had had a crush on this guy for a long time, so I basically let three years of repressed feelings and soul pour out in molten crazy lava all over the guy. I had no real sense of time at the time, but after this interview, I think I found out we had been at the park for a total of one hour, and before talking, we had walked around for awhile, so it might have been a 45 minute lifetime. Anyway, I think reliving a lot of emotion and experience while simultaneously enduring a sense of risk and danger qualifies for a lifetime. And it did end really happily. I could have died right then. And perhaps I did and woke up the next day a new person with a new boyfriend. Eh?
I guess some lifetime's don't end so happy, but I like to think the lifetimes we discuss end happy. Do you have those moments where you just feel older than you are? You're just wearied and worried by something going on? Those moments can feel like a lifetime. I went to a funeral once for a 3 or 4 year old little girl, my friend's sister, but I had never met the little girl before. She was dressed in a pink princess dress, but I couldn't look her in the face. I got there early because my dad and my sister did the music, so I sat with my friend in the pew; and I don't think we said anything. There really wasn't anything to say, just to think and ponder about life and death. Awareness of one's own mortality and age. I remember feeling really old.
These things I've done, lots of things I've done, aren't necessarily on my bucket list, but I think, when looking back, they really make me think about my current life. My dad told me once, when I had a terrible, not embarrassing so much but a soul crushing kind of experience, that those kind of things weren't things we should dwell on, but things we should carry with us, so when we experience the same thing or a similar thing, we'll know what to do. So when we have sad and happy 20 minute lifetimes, I feel like we might carry those around on a chain and pull them out to relive again or use for future reference. Memories are good.

The page I will master

My page is 191; and I picked the following words from that page to memorize:

"sitting on your crooked sixpenny stile, an unfrillfrocked quackfriar, you (will you for the laugh of Sheekspair just help mine with the epithet?) semisemitic serendipitist, you (thanks, I think that describes you) Europasianised Afferyank!"

I thought it was funny, the sound and the words. It's very "you." Whatever it means. I'm curious about the phrase "Europasianised Afferyank" I remember once in high school, someone told me to make a baby with a Finland man to make a "Finasian" baby; so my first thought was that "Europasianised" means someone who is of European and Asian descent, but the ised makes me think it means someone who has experienced a blended upbringing of European and Asian customs, or maybe was encultured or switched. I have no idea about the Afferyank. . .maybe it's an afterthought? I like the sound though. "You Afferyank!" I'd like to hear a kid say that on a playground. That would make me smile.

Bedroom Inventory: A blur

These days, going to bed and waking up basically provide the same views of misshapen shadows. I am really, really blind without my contacts or glasses. Usually, I sleep with my cellphone so the vibrate alarm won't wake up my roommate. I woke up for some reason at 3:00 in the morning, and I swear my cell phone said 6:00, so I got out of bed and took a shower, before realizing my mistake and heading back to bed. It was really lame.

Anyway, so I went to bed last night and looking around the room, I saw dark shapes, which I knew to be my desk and computer, Heidi's desk and the closet which is a big hole of empty darkness. I can see the silhouettes of books in my windowsill and dark blobs on the window and on some of the walls where the light hits, which I know to be sticky notes. In my bed, it's basically the same story of fuzzy blobs getting a little clearer as I stick my head closer, which I normally don't do, but last night and other nights before, I lost my bear. Knightley is a bear I received for my 16th birthday. He has been my nighttime companion ever since- his name, by the way, made me think of FW, because it has two meanings: "nightly" and "Knightley" - hero in Emma- ha ha. I'm so used to having him around, I really can't sleep without him; so instead of finding my glasses (which is sometimes a bigger adventure by itself) and turning on a light, I just sifted through all the junk on my bed, pushing some stuff on the floor and most of it the side of the bed I don't really use. I've got clothes, towels, blankets, books, hairbrush, pillows, camera/camera case, cell phone charger, a rosary, wallet, keys, paper, contact solution and 6 months worth of contacts (which my mom just mailed to me from Idaho). I eventually found him on the floor, so all was well.

Now. . Waking up- that's always an adventure, because half the time I dream I'm awake and have gotten breakfast and gotten my stuff ready to go, and then I wake up in my bed thoroughly disappointed, because in my dream, I'm always warm. I hate getting out of bed when I'm cold. Generally when I wake up, Knightley is never around, almost everything on my bed has been pushed to the left side leaving me about 2 feet of empty space to lay in and with one blanket. Sometimes, I think I go places at night- though last night I did get up and go somewhere, not really exciting but- there's not much to see in the area around me, just familiar and unfamiliar shadows and shapes. And sometimes my roommate's cat, who jumped on me this morning.

Haroun and stuff

Haroun and FW- how they are related. . .well, I think they both bring up an interesting question- "What are the use of stories that aren't even true?" Which I feel translates into, "What is the point of a story that doesn't make sense?" For Finnigans Wake. They both imply that stories for stories' sake are meaningless or are just simplistic entertainment for children. I remember Prof. Sexson saying something to the effect that Finnigans Wake sometimes sounded more like language of babies or small kids trying to talk, which is often nonsense; but we love to listen to it anyway. I am not sure why. But maybe stories like that, for children or sounds like children or like nothing human are likable because they're bigger than we are in a way. They're unlimited by reality and fun. I like pg 161 when Khattam-Shud says that "The world is not for Fun. The world is for Controlling." Stories and imagination and dreams can't really be controlled by anything, in the sense of stopping up sources of inspiration or forcing someone to change an idea- well, I guess unless you're trying to sell it- I mean that organically, ideas just flow and build upon themselves to do whatever. The imagination does what it wills. Joyce put a lot of thought into what he did, but the context of the book is a dream, and imagination and creativity are embodied as an endless cycle. I think Haroun does this well too, because the story doesn't "end" with a happy ending; it's like a midway point. The ending isn't in sight, because the story keeps going. Anyway to wrap up everything I was trying to say: I think Rushdie is a super small scale version of FW that asks us to examine why we are here and why we read stories- If the point has to be useful or have purpose, or if the point is to enjoy the ride.

Genie's Response to Maple Sausage

I walked in the door, and opened my mouth wide as a tantalizing smell breezed by. "Wonderful," I said. "Delicious. Food of the gods! Sizzling, I can hear it, smell it, breathe it in. This is divine, mouthwatering, amazing- blows my mind, the tastes! Nothing could top it, nothing could be better, except maybe dark chocolate oranges on one of those days, but right now nothing could hit the spot better. It is savory, sweet, it is "the shit," not literally, but basically a perfect example of what breakfast foods should be."

*Jimmy Dean's Maple Sausage is so good. Yum :)