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Oddly, there seem to be no online instructions for creating a Stendhalian crystallized branch.
I therefore have invented a method, which, like most first methods, is wrong in many respects. It occurred to me after some investigation that the instructions for creating a salt garden might do very well, minus the bluing. That is how I discovered my vast overkill in terms of salt and indeed water -- a few teaspoons of each is all that's required.
Nevertheless -- ( It's working! )
Every time I see him, he brings me chocolate, and he brought me the book (on Being a Tranny) and the postcard of Emma Goldman, and he always pays for the movies and the coffee.
I was just beginning to notice the edge of that panicky but-I-didn't-get-you-anything feeling, and then I thought -- why not concretely represent this process that evidently has set itself underway? And the reference is from his period. I hope he recognizes it. I hope he isn't embarrassed for me.
It's the fault of the movie. Had we not gone, we would not have seen Slavoj Žižek waving his counterintuitions about in a landfill.
We would not have found ourselves, in the midst of a movie about ethical philosophy, suddenly listening together to a short Stendhalian lecture about the nature of love.
I would not have been sitting very still and self-aware in a darkened movie theatre, wondering if it would be entirely the wrong thing to lean my bone-cradled cerebellum on his flesh-sheathed shoulderblade, deciding ultimately against it, but thinking, all the way home, about salt.
{rf}
I therefore have invented a method, which, like most first methods, is wrong in many respects. It occurred to me after some investigation that the instructions for creating a salt garden might do very well, minus the bluing. That is how I discovered my vast overkill in terms of salt and indeed water -- a few teaspoons of each is all that's required.
Nevertheless -- ( It's working! )
Every time I see him, he brings me chocolate, and he brought me the book (on Being a Tranny) and the postcard of Emma Goldman, and he always pays for the movies and the coffee.
I was just beginning to notice the edge of that panicky but-I-didn't-get-you-anything feeling, and then I thought -- why not concretely represent this process that evidently has set itself underway? And the reference is from his period. I hope he recognizes it. I hope he isn't embarrassed for me.
It's the fault of the movie. Had we not gone, we would not have seen Slavoj Žižek waving his counterintuitions about in a landfill.
We would not have found ourselves, in the midst of a movie about ethical philosophy, suddenly listening together to a short Stendhalian lecture about the nature of love.
I would not have been sitting very still and self-aware in a darkened movie theatre, wondering if it would be entirely the wrong thing to lean my bone-cradled cerebellum on his flesh-sheathed shoulderblade, deciding ultimately against it, but thinking, all the way home, about salt.
{rf}
