Spring is manifest in Batavia, Rising earlier than usual, I assisted to prepare for the yard sale. The town sponsors a weekend yard sale to fund the 4th of July fireworks display. I do not know what “middle class” means nowadays since so many are under-employed, underpaid relative to the time and effort a…
Joined with a group of friends last night to exchange ideas about morality. Is morality relative or absolute? The notion of an absolute, something not disposed to many interpretations, a universal standard, — inevitably is linked to the idea of a deity. Absolutes of any kind, morality included, are affairs of divinity, since we…
Art and nature — The Greeks (or at least the Athenians) liked to hear people speak well. Nothing distinguishes them so thoroughly from non-Greeks as does this truly greedy craving. Even of passion on the stage they demanded that it should speak well, and they endured the unnaturalness of dramatic verse with rapture. In…
Only artists, and especially those of the theater, have given men eyes and ears to see and hear with some pleasure… only they have taught us to esteem the hero that is concealed in everyday characters; only they have taught us the art of viewing ourselves as heroes from a distance and, as it…
Truthfulness— I favor any skepsis to which I may reply: “Let us try it!” But I no longer wish to hear anything of all those things and questions that do not permit any experiment. This is the limit of my “truthfulness”; for there courage has lost its right. –excerpt The Gay Science, Book 1,…
I have a fortunate life. You do as well, if you are reading this. To be homo sapiens is particularly difficult. Literature expresses our dilemma sometimes subtly and sometimes with a raw edge. The Myth of Sisyphus by Albert Camus comes to mind. The rendition of this tune, and the video is an expression…
Sunday. I awakened, my mind seeming to have skipped a day. It felt like Monday. The New York Times in the blue plastic wrapper lying at the end of the driveway was a clue. Today is Sunday. There’s a fine rain falling. At Starbucks I chose a table. Coffee in hand I considered the…
Acquaintances make lighthearted comment concerning my fascination with Nietzsche. Do they feel pity that I appear “stuck” on the writings of a 19th century writer, — a prototype of we psychologically troubled children of Enlightenment reason, of Christianity with all of it’s anti-reason? I’ll never know clearly what they think about my lifelong deep-dive…
Saturday before Easter Sunday: The buttercups are up! A glorious resurrection all around. No one is excluded, nothing incredulous, no tall tale that beggars common sense… This splendid denouement, shades of yellow in every yard, along the roadside… We’re all born again! Centerfield by the great John Fogerty is perfect for today. Put me…
Waking this Monday morning, my mind slowly clearing the cobwebs of sleep and I thought to myself: I am 74 years old! The actual birthday on April 1st was celebrated with much pleasure. Now, two days later, reflection upon the fact stuns me. How much of those years in the rear view mirror can…
