I continue to respond to the summer and its work in a rather murky and unsatisfying way. The weather has moved quite firmly from hot to chilly, and gray to boot (not 'grey', it's not that subtle). I have piles of things that need to be done, but plenty of time to do them – and unfortunately my tendency in those circumstances is to avoid everything now, in favor of some (ultimately nonexistent) later. Marking papers, meetings, going to the gym... all can be indefinitely delayed....
Indulgence: sometimes a good thing, sometimes a bad – I made a biryani last night (first time ever, rather fun and quite good too); and the cleanliness of the apartment, the use of skin oils and incense, relaxation on the couch with soft cotton blankets (one I bought in Cyprus, and I'd love to be there, the other one that my mother bought from a Pennsylvania Dutch store). The sensuality of things helps my mood.
And there are cheesier indulgences – late night 'adult' cartoons (not pornographic, just charmingly, cynically obnoxious) on television led me to locate and download the complete Venture Brothers series (now about twenty twenty-three minute segments, all floating around on Gnutella). They're absurdly funny, and, well, incredibly gay – although clearly written by straight men: somewhat like the Rammstein videos I found on the web a few weeks ago, and the slightly older Spy Groove series, they suggest new contemporary trends in queer culture – how peculiar it must be for straight men who don't define themselves entirely traditionally to exist in a space adjacent to all of us gay, lesbian, transgender types. You can see the impact of the queer world in the tangled ambivalence of the contemporary Regular Guy's imagination – even when being satirical or revolted, they make no more fun of us than of their own foibles. And they can't help but take advantage of the possibilities – all the sexuality, all the ambivalence, that they have gotten used to in queer culture ends up extending their own playing field, and they can't resist it.
Anyway, Venture Brothers is ridiculously funny. Such talent... maybe, if my career had gone differently, I would be associated with a studio producing such stuff.
Dismissal: colleagues' discussions of postmodernism have not made me feel as though I want to argue, but more as though it is worthless to discuss anything – as so often my colleagues seem to already know what they think, and they all seem to be in an agreement too close to allow for my opinions, my past, my experiences. This is what is so exasperating about leaving the Pacific behind, with all its freedom: it truly is another world... but of course this is also the best direction for me to follow in general: sometimes it seems as thoughengagement with almost anyone in my local environment merely leads me in small circles. Therefore disengaging is probably a good idea.
I've also lost some interest in applying for the current London job – it really has so many things wrong with it, and the probability that they would interview me seems low enough – does it really seem worth writing the letter?... well, of course, my advice to John was that it is always worth applying for jobs, but perhaps in this case a conservation of energy is better.
Of course, all of this egocentric interest in the minutiae of my life and thoughts is happening under the great arch of war, terror, violence, all of it happening far away. The threats of British air flight reduce, for me, to: can I take my computer when I go to Spain next week? It reminds me of the obliquely bitter subtitle to one of Dorothy Parker's most hilarious monologue-stories, 'From the Diary of a New York Lady', with its recurrent refrain of "Damn Miss Rose" – that subtitle, which takes the whole egotistical mess to an entirely different level, reminds us that it is also happening "During Days of Horror, Despair, and World Change". Ah well, if I'm living in my small world, perhaps that's not such a surprise – living abroad always makes one feel like keeping one's head down, and avoiding being seen; it has occurred to me that if conflicts were to eventually make it difficult to stay in the UK, I might have to make some unappetizing choices.
As for now: it would probably be best for me to cancel that trip to Spain completely – except that I suspect that I would lose about £500 without any refunds if I did. And, rather obviously from all of the above smokes and fogs, I need to clear my head – and a week in a hot beach town, with Susan to talk to, is probably ideal for that.
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