Wednesday, March 22, 2006

amnesia, blog gossip, rich housewives, JOGA

The story of the amnesiac on today's Washington Post, a Trip Down Memory Lane, brings to my mind the fact that I have had 3 such episodes, albeit short lived. I remember the first was I was about twenty and after two days in a state of vigil, I fell asleep and woke up presumably hours afterwards with no retrograde memory. I knew my surroundings by their linguistic representation in my head, but was utterly disconnect from the world and even myself. I had no identity, didn't recognize anyone and had no idea where I was. My name and my sense of me slowly started coming back to me and over the next 48 hours I was able to recuperate, but the hours between falling asleep and being found by friends I have no recollection of. This has happened to me twice more, and the feeling is always one of profound anguish. You have a body, you recognize the physical strutures around you, but you have absolutely no afective connection with them. Standing in front of a building that you might have know for years brings you no input except that it is a building. It's as if I maintained the Saussurian concept of language but have no link to the samantic semantic (pragmatic, contextual) concepts in my head. I never did anything about it and it hasn't happened in about 10 years. One more of my strange experiences.

Poor, ethnic children at greater risk for exposure to toxic pollutants says Eureka, and anybody else with any sense. It's the bad schooling, it's the heavy minerals, it's the bad food. The list goes on and America is becoming more fragmented. But I bet most anti-abortion activists don't care. They're only importany when they're in the womb.

My brilliant mate says that the pornography industry is the net version of the old NASA. You know in their search for better graphics, more input and better diversionary tactics, they have helped make the net what it is today, the motivation though being significantly different. They push smut and appeal to our basest impulses whereas NASA wanted to reach for the stars. Interesting analogy.

Inlight of all these shows on housewifes and the lives of the rich I sugest the following poem:

Possessions are Nine Points of Conversation
Some people, and it doesn't matter whether they are paupers or millionaires,
Think that anything they have is the best in the world just because it is theirs.
If they happen to own a 1921 jalopy,
They look at their neighbor's new de luxe convertible like the wearer of a 57th Street gown at a 14th Street copy.
If their seventeen-year-old child is still in the third grade they sneer at the graduation of the seventeen-year-old children of their friends,
Claiming that prodigies always come to bad ends,
And if their roof leaks,It's because the shingles are antiques.
Other people, and if doesn't matter if they are Scandinavians or Celts,
Think that anything is better than theirs just because it belongs to somebody else.
If you congratulate them when their blue-blooded Doberman pinscher wins the obedience championship, they look at you like a martyr,
And say that the garbage man's little Rover is really infinitely smarter;
And if they smoke fifteen-cent cigars they are sure somebody else gets better cigars for a dime.
And if they take a trip to Paris they are sure their friends who went to Old Orchard had a better time.
Yes, they look on their neighbor's ox and ass with covetousness and their own ox and ass with abhorrence,
And if they are wives they want their husband to be like Florence's Freddie, and if they are husbands they want their wives to be like Freddie's Florence.
I think that comparisons are truly odious,
I do not approve of this constant proud or envious to-do;
And furthermore, dear friends, I think that you and yours are delightful and I also think that me and mine are delightful too.
(Ogden Nash) (thanks Abrupto)

New Google Site called JOGA, portuguese word for play, that looks like it's about soccer but I think in reality is about social networking. Should be very popular in the rest of the world. Noticed the Brazilian aura about it! Interesting! Watching german or english soccer is watching brute force and drive, watching brazilians play is like watching a ballet. Beautiful, creative artistic soccer, the best kind there is.
Fun gossipy article on the A list bloggers in the early days of blogging.


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