quiet please.

address change

2006-05-30T20:13:00.000-04:00

I've moved to a more trendy place (and its not east lansing). If you're interested, check out my new home and visit me there. Perhaps when myspace blows over, I'll continue posting here.

good times ahead?

2006-01-21T15:48:00.000-05:00

went to the coffee shop that advertised a desire for barristas. it turned out to be kudo bean, a hip joint that serves to just the right crowd. and the other barristas seem like fun people... i imagine i'd fit in just fine. here's hoping they call me. and pay a lot of money.

i also stopped by jimmy's beerhall and rathskellar, as they expressed intrest in hiring someone for dishwashing. they asked me to be a dish runner this evening, just show up around 7:30/8p. at least it will give me something to do. the compensation may or may not work out to much, i'll have to wait and see, but essentially amounts to a $30 shift pay for showing up and a cut of the waitresses' tips. i figure if i make $50, that's still better than sitting around feeling bored. plus the people seemed interesting and jimmy strikes me as a good guy to know. then again, i'm always so optimistic when i have to be, right?

back in nyc

2006-01-20T12:21:00.000-05:00

been looking for a job lately. not a fun adventure, but i did make it in to see the nice folks at another temp agency, hoping they can help me out. after completing all their paper work and rocking their tests, i asked, 'how quickly can you find me something?' i was told, amongst other things, that i should 'just pray.' that doesn't inspire much confidence. i had also corresponded with a great coffee shop right here in the east village, who seemed somewhat interested in hiring more help. after visiting, they still seem interested, but not eager to flood their staff with another barrista. *sigh* what's a boy to do? i'm getting impatient and i really need to have some cash flow for the finances. maybe praying is my only option.

i took a new route to the grocery store last night and saw a sign looking for help at another, less hip looking cafe nearby. maybe they can help me. i'm eager to find out, but i'm so loathe to even change out of my pajama's to go find out. still, it must be. wish me luck.

the kitchen project

2006-01-17T19:30:00.000-05:00

below are pictures of the kitchen, freshly painted and with brand new hardware (now the doors shut by themselves, as if by magic—but really by ingenious little springs). depending on your monitor settings, you may not pick up on the subtlety of the ecru-ish wall color, which I assure you is far more sexy and sophisticated than white. the trim color didn't turn out as melissa and i had envisioned... we anticipated a much darker brown. still, it works well with the natural wood tones of the butcher block and pot rack. i think it lightens up the kitchen, much like sunshine.

god was an early riser

2006-01-14T08:19:00.000-05:00

woke up early this morning to take melissa to the espresso royale cafe this morning so that she could open and i could sit around and read and get caffeinated. its the third time, perhaps, that i've done this since coming to michigan. i really like it... getting up early never really bothered me all that much. wasn't too long ago that i was opening this same coffee shop. then, having to incorporate it into my daily schedule could get exhausting, but taking melissa in has been like a dream. i rather like the early start on the day. watching the world wake up makes me feel a little like a god, who has been here from the beginning, the very burgeoning of the day. the coffee and laid back atmosphere helps a lot, too.

Lakoff's Don't Think of an Elephant

2006-01-10T06:45:00.000-05:00

George Lakoff's book Don't Think of an Elephant: Know Your Values and Frame the Debate might have a second subtitle: 'Why Progressives in America Suck and How They Might Win'. Sometimes the best way to show how much you care about something is through careful criticism, which is where we find Lakoff in relation to the progressive movement. What I appreciate most about his effort is that he takes conservatives seriously and attempts to recognize not only what conservatives have done so well but where the progressives have failed miserably; namely, in the articulation of its values and unification around common principles. Lakoff certainly believes that progressive principles are vastly superior to conservative principles, the problem is that they aren't articulated and so fail to be understood. That is the failure of the progressive movement—its inability to think in terms of values.

For conservatives, Lakoff shows that these values revolve around what he has termed a 'strict father morality' in which we imagine the nation as a family with the government as the strict father who rewards good, self-interested behavior with financial success and bad behavior with economic ostricism, amongst other consequences. Progressives might borrow the 'nation as family' metaphor but focus instead upon values that come from a different family model; the 'nurturant parent' model. Here, the standard for government is its ability to nurture its citizens and allow them to thrive. Lakoff provides a clear articulation of the values and principles stemming from this nuturing family model.

Where I might have cast liberals as largely a bunch of reactive political nay-sayers, Lakoff shows his commitment to progressive values by recognizing the need for a positive assertion of values. Thats novel enough, it seems, but what might be lauded about Lakoff's effort is how well he is able to do it, with an eye toward strategy and a recognition of our tendency to think in metaphor.

I think Lakoff's book is a wonderful and easy read that should be more influential on progressive thought, especially moving into future elections. The success of the democrats might just depend upon it. Either way, I'd recommend this book not only for those interested in politics in the US, but those who might typically avoid the political realm because of its polarizing tendencies. Without denegrating into being just a political funny man, Lakoff is a breath of fresh air who should be taken seriously and read widely in the US political circuit, even if he won't make you laugh.

this is how we do it... in east lansing

2006-01-05T16:35:00.000-05:00

post holidays and i am unwinding in good ol' east lansing. well, unwinding might be misleading, especially considering i wasn't very 'wound' when i got here... the holidays are cool like that. since i got here on tuesday, i nearly killed myself while repairing a defective light switch at jim's house. sparks flew, pops were heard, and my life flashed before my eyes. then i turned off the *correct* breaker and saved myself from future scares. that was great, especially since the kitchen now glows as it ought to. now i must begin the process of repainting the kitchen. it seems like a lot of work, but i keep imagining how beautiful it will look when i finish and that keeps me interested in the job. that and praise. i like praise.

last night i watched eddie izzard's glorious and laughed until my gut ached and tears welled up in my eyes. i woke up this morning to a lightly falling snow. got dressed and walked to the coffee shop and chatted with paul. i thought about moving back to east lansing... at some points of my prior stay here, i would have bemoaned the thought. i was a different person then. plus i had hopes that i've found to be, well, not exactly fulfilled. but hopes can be unfulfilled without leaving a person feeling void and empty. dashed hopes can remind a person what was more important and what he was capable of. plus, dashed hopes can be transferred to new and better dreams and imaginations.

i find myself missing new york at times. i both dread and eagerly await returning. its a strange kind of disposition to have.

so broke... and other musings

2006-01-01T23:16:00.000-05:00

i'm so broke these days. my relationships couldn't be richer, or more vibrant, but i fear that i will eventually sell my body and soul to god or satan or someone who will destroy it. that will be the end of any riches, figurative or tangible. why do bad things happen to good people, or maybe, how do i work myself out of this hole? the world just ain't fair. but sometimes i can laugh... i shout 'da capo!'—back to the beginning... i'll make the mistakes all over again... anything less would be ungrateful to my present, to my past and future. i will triumph... but how? somehow. anyhow. a little self-flagellation and depravation would certainly be in order....to the development of the false ascetic.
...
I've been reading Walter Kaufmann's Critique of Religion and Philosophy. Good stuff. Kaufmann first came to my attention as the great translator of Nietzsche's works. This is what really attracted me to this book, this great Nietzsche scholar writing on Philosophy and Religion, perhaps two of the most important topics anyone interested in truth can attempt to tackle. At this point, I can really only comment on Kaufmann's critique of philosophy, which he sees through the division between analytic and existential thinking—what might today be reduced to analytic/British philosophy and Continental/19th & 20th Century European Philosophy. For him, both modes of thought are lacking each other in philosophy today. The existentialist lacks the thrust of analysis that would enable her to better understand experience, while the analytic lacks touch with what the human actually experiences and so risks being irrelevant.

I think the book attempts to be a critique in the Kantian sense, exploring the limitations and possibilities of philosophy and religion. So at least immediately, though it does attempt criticism in both these fields, the criticism is within the framework of what is possible for these two fields of knowledge. An interesting idea, that explores the nature of belief and possibilities of knowledge. Or at least, this might be one way of looking at what is at work here.
...
So reading is sometimes able to distract me from concerns regarding the sustainability of material comforts. But how long will that last? Hopefully just long enough for me to find a million dollars and all the time in the world. Anything less than that will certainly be closer to reality. But something will work out. It has to. What are my options? Death, destruction, failure? FUCK NO! Not today, thank you kindly.

this weekend

2005-12-12T16:52:00.000-05:00

this weekend, i witnessed a gangsta youth throw an obnoxious, disruptive man nearly twice his size to the ground and all of mc donalds united to cheer on what would have been a hilariously pitiful fight between two men with no shirts on. an old man informed me that this is precisely the reason he carries THIS (producing, i shit you not, a butterknife that he had concealed in his jacket) and made little jabbing motions to emphasize just how he would use it while murmering creepily, "yeeer....like that... yeeeeeeah...."

also this weekend, i waged my very own workers general strike at cafe gigi's and won my full shift pay.

AND... i made little to no progress on my papers, whose deadline's are fast approaching. *sigh* whats a boy to do?

i mean, like, besides weep uncontrollably...

writing

2005-12-08T14:11:00.000-05:00

is there an art to writing? can i expect to get better at it? do other people enjoy reading what they write?

some questions going through my head as i've been finding writing my papers for the end of the term so difficult. words come out of me easy enough, but i can't help but wonder if they will make any sense to their intended audience. and further... whether its compelling, or interesting, or even noteworthy at all. perhaps partly because i'm familiar with the thoughts i'm attempting to express—although, i must admit, every now and then i surprise myself—when i read my own writing in an attempt to edit it, it seems so... blah. is writing a gift that some have and others don't? can it be cultivated? i really hope so.

i've been trying to assume a new relationship to the papers i'm writing. it seems there is some consensus amongst artists and the like that actually attempting to complete their work is gut wrenching. their work seems to constantly beg to be manipulated, changed, perfected... of course, in aesthetics this lends itself well to the debate over when an art work can actually be called an art work. but for me, its merely illustrative of a greater truth. these works that come from ourselves are important to us... the plays we direct, the journals we edit, the books we develop, the papers we write... we expect that their presentation to others be the best that we can present. but the sad truth is, we can always perfect it.

nietzsche's philosophy has been appropriated by certain ethicists to preach the value of the life lived creatively. the idea here is that we should live as though our life were a production and that once we've created it, we let it go, claim no further responsibility for it. there is something compelling in this, even if only for the idea that perfect creation requires a lack of responsibility. levinas agrees—though in a pejorative way—that art is irresponsible.

but at least if my art is irresponsible, the papers i write will get finished. i'm reminded of the horribly inspiring grad student motto which is 'don't get it right, get it done'.... i'm not sure what sad state of academics necessitated this mantra, but i find it inspiring in that its a place to start. at least it can open the vein so that something is created...

the eternal recurrence of my paper topic?...

2005-12-04T12:10:00.000-05:00

i woke up this morning to a virginal blanket of snow covering the streets outside. magnificient. not only had i been exhausted enough last night to fall asleep at 10p, but i managed to maintain a peaceful slumber until 10a the following morning. well rested and cheerful, imagine my delight when i discovered the coffee jar empty, meaning a trip to the store was in order. rosy cheeks, the smell of snow, and excited faces greeted me all the way.

but now i find myself presented with a task... a paper.

"The idea of eternal return is a mysterious one, and Nietzsche has often perplexed other philosophers with it: to think that everything recurs as we once experienced it, and that the recurrence itself recurs ad infinitum! What does this mad myth signify?

Putting it negatively, the myth of the eternal return states that a life which disappears once and for all, which does not return, is like a shadow, without weight, dead in advance, and whether it was horrible, beautiful, or sublime, its horror, sublimity, and beauty mean nothing." --Milan Kundera The Unbearable Lightness of Being

this will be the starting point for my reflections on hermeneutics, the process whereby we seek to understand and interpret (primarily texts, but also) our experience of the world. is hermeneutics a weight? a lightness? or is it neither? could it be, instead, an 'unbearable lightness'?

i feel lost

2005-12-02T12:42:00.000-05:00

how can a person go on living, forgetting their place in the world? i know where things are. i can find them if i want to. i can see you if we schedule a date. i can visit you in my reflections. but who is the i throughout all this? the i is a searching, wanting, desiring for things. the i is a longing for what it isn't.

what am i? whats my personal contribution? why can't i see it?

dogs make me lonely

2005-11-15T15:31:00.000-05:00

frequently these days dogs have been touching me quite sentimentally. such a loving, affectionate animal prompts my memory of days spent with loved ones.

syd dangerous

2005-11-02T13:17:00.000-05:00

Syd Dangerous
write a paper for me on angelo as hero/victim in measure for measure please.
i'd appreciate it

Matthew Johnson
a victim can never be a hero
that's the paper

Syd Dangerous
well, my argument and paper is going to suggest the opposite, or rather, the paper you're going to write for me since i have to go to work in 1 hour

Matthew Johnson
hehehe

Syd Dangerous
you just keep laughing. when i come home and there's not a word document in my electronic mailbox i'm going to find you.

Syd Dangerous
i found the most high tech microwave in the trash
it has a 'chicken defrost' button and then you enter how many pounds you have
and it actually works quite well

Matthew Johnson
can it write a paper for you about heros and victims?

Syd Dangerous
sure, but it will be for my personal reading pleasure rather than any academic use
(well, it might inspire my writing)
if you do i will make citations to your work

Matthew Johnson
i think there is a button on your microwave to do this
you should look

Syd Dangerous
it doesn't do mla :(

magic pen

2005-11-01T06:17:00.000-05:00

if you had a magic pen, what powers would it possess?

my magic pen, when i touched it to someone, would allow me access to their thoughts and motivations. this isn't like getting someone's point of view—a point of view can always be false and i don't care to quibble with others over the validity of their perspective—but would rather receive access to the truth that others embody.

...and my magic pen would shoot fire balls with the flick of my wrist.

words are broken...

2005-10-31T01:16:00.000-05:00

...how am i to write my term papers? i only hope i can fix my head soon.

daylognumberone

2005-10-28T02:02:00.000-04:00

convulsions. pain. relief. predestination and communal salvation. blurs and nuisances. triumph and self congratulations. ill. pills and waves of dissolution. relief. discomfort. uncertainty and decisions—lost in a sea of limbs. breuer, embarassment, and weighed down with books. lost. thrilled. home. always home. sometimes frustrated. sometimes angry. but always home.

bar experience

2005-10-27T01:00:00.000-04:00

after a miserable class that i nearly walked out on out of sheer disgust, i went to the bar with my fellow classmates to bitch and moan... but also to chat about life, the universe and everything. few things stimulate good conversation in this frigid weather like a glass of merlot. except maybe a glass of shiraz, but bars don't seem to offer that by the glass around here.

me: i'll have a glass of wine

bartender: this is a bar...

me: i understand that

bartender: so, you kinda need to order something. you can't just walk in and drink our water.

me: uh-huh...

she goes to get me a glass of water. at this point, i realize she mistook 'wine' for 'water.'

me: i actually ordered a glass of wine...

she laughs and i smile indignantly, but leave a fair tip anyway. as i approached the bar for my third glass, she said, 'cheers! this ones on the house!"

a decent night.

wha?

2005-10-26T05:33:00.000-04:00

walking home at 2:30a is a quiet experience. shoes on concrete believe i can fall asleep while crossing the road. the men offering 'coke, smoke, weed, blow, man...' fade to nothing and pass on their way. the rats scurry about their world and i wish for something different. my happiness creates anew. nimble feet navigate better than concrete shoes but ultimately find no destination. i'm here. i'm tired. i know what to do but i refuse. i laugh at tomorrow. buddy can you spare two fifty? will you bring any guests? here's your master list. now fuck off and let me soar.

engagement!

2005-10-24T17:52:00.000-04:00

sometimes i feel like tom cruise on oprah. all ridiculous and excited in love. well. what can i say? i have a terrific life... both in the present and a wonderful future to look forward to. over the past weekend, i officially proposed to melissa and she accepted!

mirror

2005-10-18T15:22:00.000-04:00

have you ever caught an image of yourself in the mirror and not recognized yourself? today i was waiting in line to purchase a soda before class and was startled by my reflection. i can't say what was so jarring about the experience. i wonder what it was that struck me so much in glimpsing myself.

i'm tired. and getting annoyed. i want to sleep. but first, i have to prepare coffee for the morning, set out my clothes, rinse off in the shower and peruse some deluze.

yeah. that's what i'll do.

raindrops keep falling on my head...

2005-10-13T07:40:00.000-04:00

so much rain. it creates a rather absurd city. first, most streets and sidewalks here seem imperfect in such a way that every block or so you'll find a monstrous puddle that will threaten to spoil your entire day. getting to work having braved the rain is fine and even exciting, but getting to work with soaked shoes and socks is at least five hours of discomfort. umbrellas literally choke the narrow sidewalks and i've somehow managed to communicate to other umbrella carriers, "ok, you hoist your umbrella high above your head, i'll squat down low, and we can both pass by each other in relative comfort." its really quite ridiculous to watch people, especially people who don't seem to find this ridiculous, but instead demeaning. they have muddled faces and always seem to be talking to themselves under their breath, reminding themselves of their inherent self worth and decency in the face of such an awkard commute to work. after coming upon a puddle so large it warranted several large pieces of construction materials for one to cross as a small child might skip over a brook, i took a route that involved a leap and sustained balancing act while juggling my coffee mug, umbrella and briefcase. i was so proud of this feat that my triumphant smile surely communicated it and i half expected applause as i continued on my way.

yesterday was fun, but i'm afraid that it was only on account of my strong will for a day of glee. can my will be so strong today? it looks like rain for the next several days straight through, so perhaps i should get used to it. but i also feel like my patience is wearing thin. and i wanted to do laundry today without worrying about my clothes being soaked by the trip home.

ok. time to go to work.

the exorcism of emily rose

2005-10-09T09:12:00.000-04:00

a one-hundred percent chance of rain?! one-hundred! imagine me checking the weather report for the evening, only to find this forecast. "IT WILL DOWNPOUR!!!!" still, i couldn't help but argue with the forecast... really, was i completely idiotic to think that it MIGHT stop raining? yes, i was... the forecast left no possibility for it NOT to rain. how can that be? these bizarre predictors of the future... how can someone predict anything with one-hundred percent certainty? surely, the sun will rise tomorrow and matthew will find himself on a subway route to work... but even these things we couldn't REALLY say with one-hundred percent certainty...

but, rain it did as we trudged through the drowning city to see 'the exorcism of emily rose'. the movie was wholly laughable, with some quite terrifying scenes thrown in. the exorcism bits would have gotten under my skin had it not been for the court room melodrama that accompanied it, which made me want to puke for its ridiculous treatment of kantian ideas of hope, which i actually take quite seriously. and so did the film. but the film couldn't present these ideas in a way to be treated seriously, regardless the pains they went through to do so. rather than feeling vindicated for believing in the possibility of a supernatural realm, i felt ridiculous for holding such a belief while watching the film. note to the producers: if you can't do something well, maybe you shouldn't do it at all. you've only spoiled a pregnant idea.

yep.

2005-10-07T03:31:00.000-04:00

the past several weeks have been like a blur of malcontent. and slim pickin's on wireless networks in the area. i used to have a fantasy that new york was like the city of the future, so that when even in the midwest i could find wireless signals in very surprising places i thought, surely, new yorkers must have a hard time breathing for all the wifi in the air. not the case. and it isn't just wifi. debit cards, too, though i thought surely these must be the wave of the future, i doubt the jewish man who is repairing my shoe accepts anything but cash. so cosmopolitan, but so old fashioned. i like it.

needless to say, being cranky and having difficulties getting a wireless signal have made this blog the last thing on my mind. however, through the desire for emotional outlet, creative exploration, social connection and an inspiring email from a friend, i've been wanting to post more lately.

soon, through the good graces of road runner, i should have a wireless network of my very own and then you may expect more regular updates. you don't want to know what torture i had to put myself through just to post this.

this weekend i'm going to start one of my papers. it will compare kant & gadamer and try to find some reconciliation for their differences. the goal is nothing short of an introduction and an outline, though i'm nervous because without much of a library, i'm not entirely certain how prepared i can make myself. but enough excuses.

and now to sleep.

National Catholic Reporter article

2005-10-01T12:30:00.000-04:00

Someone from the National Catholic Reporter recently did a piece on my dad. It's attached below...

---------------

No pretension: Family keeps parish administrator grounded
By PAIGE BYRNE SHORTAL

The first thing that strikes you when you meet Tom Johnson is that he talks like a character in a “Prairie Home Companion” skit. Like the Minnesotans created by Garrison Keillor, Tom is unassuming, with little regard for titles and other matters he calls “pretentious.”

For three years Johnson has been a “parish director,” hired by a cluster of three parishes in the Winona, Minn., diocese: St. Joseph in Good Thunder, St. Matthew in Vernon Center, and St. Teresa in Mapleton. He came from St. Gertrude Parish in the New Ulm diocese where, for 11 years, he was called the “pastoral administrator.”

Elsewhere lay people who do what Johnson does might be called “parish life coordinators” or “parish administrators.”

“A standard title would help, I suppose,” Johnson mused. “After I tell people my title and they look confused, I just say I’m like a lay pastor and then they understand what I do. The title really doesn’t matter to me.”

Johnson spends his day like a pastor. He presides over Communion services, visits the homebound, counsels the occasional troubled teenager, and stops to talk with whoever appears in his office. He’s involved in ecumenical work and meets regularly with other pastors in the area. He has an associate, School Sister of Notre Dame Lois Wickenhauser, a retired teacher who takes on most of the pastoral care and continuing formation, but on the day we talked he was preparing for a meeting with catechists about the new guidelines for confirmation.

Tom’s strengths are in liturgy and administration so he gathers the musicians from the three parishes to prepare worship and he goes to a lot of meetings. There is a finance council for each parish; one combined pastoral council; and he’s on several diocesan committees, including the “adult ed formation advisory committee.” Just like a pastor, indeed.

Except he’s a layman. Tom is married to Jeanne -- “spelled like Jeanne d’Arc.” Jeanne is a registered nurse and works in a nursing home. “She has a gift for working with people with dementia.” They have three children, Matt, Ben and Rachel. Matt, 24, is in graduate school at Stony Brook in New York and Johnson says he enjoys talking philosophy with him. Ben, 21, is an undergraduate and lives in Chicago. Rachel, 19, moved to Duluth to live in a Catholic Worker House and now works as a cook.

Growing up with their father being like their pastor, the kids “got teased some. I think one of the boys was called ‘Church Boy’ in a pejorative way. It wasn’t a big thing.” Today, he said, “they may not be every-Sunday Catholics, but their ethos is Catholic. They live out of their Catholic values.”

He admitted that sometimes there are conflicts between family and ministry, but no more than for than a doctor who is called out on an emergency. “Coming home to someone who cares and just being yourself keeps you grounded. So often pastors can be pretentious and I just don’t think that’s right. Sometimes it’s helpful that I’m married. It’s like, ‘He’s married -- he knows what it’s like.’ ”

He wanted to be a priest when he was a boy, he said. “I used to wonder how I could best know God. I thought if you really loved God you would be a priest or a nun. I come from a family of 11 kids -- that’s how Catholic we were. My mother would have been happy if all seven of her sons had become priests and her four daughters had become nuns.” None of the sons became priests, but one daughter is a Sinsinawa Dominican.

Johnson went to Nazareth Hall Preparatory Seminary in Arden Hills, Minn., during high school, and St. John Vianney Seminary at the University of St. Thomas in St. Paul for college. “As I tried to discern how I was being called to come to know God closely, I spent some time at St. John’s Abbey in Collegeville to try the contemplative life. I don’t know. Somehow I just knew I needed one intimate friend to spend my life with. I knew I should be married and I wanted to serve the church.”

Johnson worked for 13 years as a parish liturgist, but he felt called to be a pastor -- or as much like one as he could be. He clearly loves his work. He mentioned getting together with others who do the same work and how they soon discovered that “griping” was not fruitful. Now they check in with each other, talk about situations in their parishes and enjoy each other’s company.

When asked what the top three gripes are, he was quick on the first two: lack of acknowledgment from some priests and sometimes the bishop; and the “tough plowing” if you’re the first of your kind in the parish. “Folks are grieving the loss of a priest and are sometimes slow to accept the giftedness of lay people.” As for the third, he said that loneliness can be a problem -- “well, not for me, but for the single ones.”

Johnson said he and Jeanne hope to do some kind of work in Latin America. It was on a mission trip to Guatemala that he was moved by the simple gratitude of people who have so little. “I want to live like that -- to be that graceful and hospitable and that dispossessed of my possessions. I’ve got a lot to learn.”

Paige Byrne Shortal writes from her home in rural Missouri.

National Catholic Reporter, September 16, 2005

2005-09-11T23:48:00.000-04:00

breakthroughs and illuminations
twinkle in my eyes
now bedazzled
these eyes carry me to soar
beyond the heavy darkness
whose shackles be damned
peace be with the gracious ones
whose light calls us hither

an evening stroll...

2005-09-11T06:06:00.000-04:00

weight. confusion. discontent. i put my book down, unable to concentrate and set out to clear my head. the streets are full of light merry makers and i wonder if i stand out... can they feel me dragging them down? i begin to realize—too slowly for me to understand at the time—it isn't my gravity that will pull them down, but their levity that will elevate my soul. the cool breeze. the cheerful voices. the gay men carrying each other down the sidewalk. the bum elated to find a garbage bag full of the days unsold donuts. and what's this? on top of her shoulders, in a pfiefen-esque pose is none other than pfiefen's timid twin. they must have been separated at birth. i stopped and debated asking her if i could hold him. but she looked too interested in her donuts and i was too shy to pose such a silly question. i continued on my way.

but now i'm back home. now i'm alone. now i wonder how to effect my flight.

the haircut

2005-09-05T20:44:00.000-04:00

let me hide mine eyes
behind this dusty brim
whose faded red may seem
reminiscient of days
spent in the sun

and from beneath my veil
please ignore the cries
of every hair cut too short
every curl missing his gusto
every mystery unadorned

2005-09-04T16:41:00.000-04:00

i mopped the floor today.

tomorrow's aspirations: write something creative. finish reading large portion of work load for next week. clean the bathroom.

so much has been happening this week, i've really been quite busy with work, starting school and getting settled. i certainly have a full plate. i feel capable. it feels good.

for those of you wondering what the hell has happened to me, i have just been really jazzed and busy, ending my days feeling exhausted, but (almost) satisfied. satisfaction would be giving a kiss good night to my sweetheart.

and if you're wondering what i think of new york subways: cesspool. but christ. how convenient!

and if you're just dying for a picture of luna the wonder cat...

my sunday afternoon

2005-08-29T01:51:00.000-04:00

rice and beans for dinner, a day without spending a dime.... and i've never felt like such a wealthy man.

this morning i went to st. stainislaus', just a few blocks from the apartment. after wandering around with only a vague idea where it was, i missed the 9a service in english but i returned for the 10.30a mass in polish. it was delightful. the church is majestic and the song leader's voice was like an angel's. it was interesting not understanding the language (though i always knew where we were in the mass) which really added to the transcendent dimensions of the space. the icon at right is on the altar and really commanded my reflection for most of the mass. some people get uncomfortable about marian devotion, fearing comparing her to god. i don't fear comparing her to god at all. i wouldn't argue with someone that told me mary wasn't a god, but i for one appreciate the idea of a feminine god. christianity needs it. the beauty of the picture in piercing in person. mary's eyes are like an abyss that has something to say to you.

i took a nap that afternoon and when i woke up, went to check out a jazz fest in the nearby park. it was good jazz. jazz i liked, which i'm discovering doesn't include nearly everything characterized as such. while standing in the crowd, glimpsing the stage, i felt that jazz wasn't meant to be listened to like this. jazz is meant for ambience while working at the computer. or to keep you soothed in the car. or in your peripheral while you enjoy a drink. or while you're cleaning. but its not very fun to stand and listen to. so andy and i sat on some nearby benches and talked about life, the universe and everything. jazz is good for that, too.

wooo hoo!

2005-08-25T04:25:00.000-04:00

today i rediscovered the joy of a caffeine buzz in the evening. the past few days i've been up late, woken (waken?) up early and spent my afternoons tooling all over town like a chicken with my head cut off trying to tie up loose ends (getting books, groceries, bank account, etc.) which really takes a lot out of a person. haven't been able to figure out where my desire to read and ability to focus on reading went to. i spent an hour or so reading in the park, trying to force myself to perk up. i just couldn't. then i swung by a coffee shop at 9p and halfway through my mug, i felt rejuvenated! for the past year, i've been cautious about coffee in the evening, because i like to sleep.

now i remember what kept me interested in life after 4p. other than napping.

2005-08-24T03:02:00.000-04:00

i'm pretty sure that thought alone is not enough to prove one's existence.

mr. mouse

2005-08-23T22:39:00.000-04:00

mood: cheerful
music: radiohead myxomatosis (judge, jury & executioner)

while waiting for a train to come home from work, i noticed a tiny rat scurrying along the tracks. he ran around some trash that had gathered below a loose rail tie before pausing at a tiny puddle of water to wash his face and take a look around. he noticed me staring at him, but continued about his business. the tracks began to quake from the force of the on-coming train and the tunnel began to roar and the mouse vanished. i wonder what he's doing now.

books!

2005-08-23T10:48:00.000-04:00

i felt like a kid in a candy store yesterday as i made my way through stacks of books at a barnes and noble outlet in the west village. after some confusion and coaxing the staff for some extra attention, we looked up and found the books for my classes. i'm thinking i'll be taking three courses, but not sure which course not to take, though i'm leaning towards not taking PHI 508:61 Contemporary Problems: Aesthetics: Reception and Process as Themes of 20th Century Art only because the other courses just seem too good to pass up. that would make my current schedule:

Tuesday PHI 506:60 Art and Its Problems: Aesthetics and Ethics
Wednesday PHI 506:61 Art and Its Problems: Art and the Real
Thursday PHI 508:60 Aesthetics: Core Course

i'm getting really excited. if any one cares to check out the class offerings and make recommendations or commendations on my course selection, it would be most welcome.

i've got a train to catch!

battery park

2005-08-23T02:24:00.000-04:00

here's a picture i took of the view from battery park one evening. that's the statue of liberty in the lower left corner.

mood: sleepy

sunday

2005-08-21T19:24:00.000-04:00

as a young boy, sundays were always a bummer. church in the morning was never very enjoyable to me and often times resulted in authoritarian squabbles between my folks and i. after church, in honor of the sabbath, i could count on no support from my folks for purchasing things, getting around, working, etc. (which is a really big deal when you're living way out in bfe)—in keeping with the judaic requirement to rest, but we weren't quite so strict as the orthodox, we just tried to be very conscious of it but never beat ourselves up if it didn't happen. and by the time i was able to drive myself to mcdonalds for a big mac, the whole idea seemed absurd. anyway. i've been noticing within myself a fear of money, consumption, and frankly, how easily i identify myself with various consumption communities and sometimes even become nervous or feel not quite myself when i can't be a part of them. so, in an effort to cope with this anxiety of mine, i thought i'd keep holy the sabbath by refraining from buying anything today. and next sunday. and the sunday after that which i hope will help me to resist these indulgent consumptive tendencies (even throughout the rest of the week). i was really proud of myself, until i thought, "shit, matt, what about all that orientation stuff you were told to do? you won't have time. you can't just sit here and read. you need to access the internet, make shit happen. get these monkeys off your back. it can't wait! go now, young man!"

and thats when the voices escorted me out the door and straight into starbucks, whose internet connection is always reliable (i can't find wireless anywhere else and the library is closed), frantically trying to think of all my tasks to accomplish. it wasn't until i got to the cafe that i realized i had totally freaked myself out and interrupted a perfectly relaxing afternoon by thinking myself into a stressful situation. and how often that must happen to myself and others. i suppose this is what happens to those of us who become addicted to stress or any other emotion, really.

well, i did get my internet connection and received some happy news from melissa and was able to check a few other things in addition to cooling off in the air conditioning, but it cost me $6. well, maybe next week. still, not a wholly unenjoyable way to spend an hour on a sunday, but i'm going to go back to the park now and catch up with folks on the phone and read and maybe even play some video games later if the mood strikes me.

orientation

2005-08-20T11:04:00.000-04:00

mood: excited/jittery

hrrrumph. yes. would you like to listen to my poetry? mmmrr.... did you check the appropriate box? can't give the boy an education until he's signed the form. hrrrrmph.

i really should be more grateful. i certainly am receiving a lot of help and loads of wonderful services from stony brook. i just can't bring myself to enjoy the hoops one must jump through for adminstrative matters. i keep trying to remind myself how lucky i am... getting loans, health services, education—of course, i could imagine a world in which these are humanely provided to all—and of course, i strive to appreciate the difficulty of managing these great services for such a large number of students. still. as i sat through the volgonic display of tedious mediocrity from scores of administrators i damn near lost my mind. i'm sure the information i received will be useful to me. as they pointed out early on, every thing has a procedure associated with it—mrrrph...has he filled out the appropriate form?. i just hope i can figure out the one for wiping my ass before anything bad happens. *sigh*

i ditched one lecture to search out my books. no luck there, the book list hadn't been received yet. maybe it won't be. maybe i'll just have to order them online when i get the list of books from my professors.

i didn't like going all the way out to stony brook. don't get me wrong, it's a wonderful facility and there were times i wished i was there, living right near the brilliant library and helpful health services folks and weight room. of course, these aren't the times when i look at the area surrounding the campus. or when i consider the other graduate students, who, i am sorry to say, strike me as overgrown babies. i felt a moment of sadness when a lecturer asked all those who received ta/ga positions to raise their hand. i looked around. these folks looked far less capable of the position than i feel... and probably look (i place a high value on those things we learn through superficial judgment). enough. i'm likely to start telling you how i can climb everest and run for mr. universe. anyway, that bummed me out a bit. though, i'm sure philosophy receives much less funding than these programs... and, if i do say so myself, the competition for grand poobah of intellect in philosophy is probably much more fierce. also, i hope the graduate school helps to curb my bigotry and humble not my spirits, but at least my pride. judging from my last foray in academe, that shouldn't take too long.

so far less than helping me accomplish what needed to be accomplish, the orientation gave me a nice long to-do list. which, might be good in that i now have a fair grasp of the things i need to get done so they don't become problems later. but still, i had hopes of taking care of them during this incredibly long day i spent at the campus. instead i listened to bad poetry. the worst in the galaxy.

a couple of bearded men...

2005-08-20T03:33:00.000-04:00

Just thought I'd post this picture of my dad and myself. Not sure why he looks so grumpy. Could have been a lack of sleep and a daunting ride ahead (this picture was taken by my lovely fiance on my last visit to e.r.c. before heading to ny). Still, I like it. And I think I'll keep posting random pictures as I become struck by them. For whatever reason. Do I need a reason? No I don't.

morning

2005-08-19T10:14:00.000-04:00

sleep fills my head. what was i going to do? right. coffee. and while that's brewing, brush my teeth. am i running late? nope. right on time and successfully extending my hours of wakefulness. i really should eat something. what can i stomach? i'll have a bowl of cereal. should i get dressed fist? maybe if i just brush my teeth—sure would hate getting toothpaste all over myself—ok... teeth are clean, why is my throat so sore? am i catching some sort of cold? i better keep an eye on that today. what time is it? oh, i've got time to see if i've got an internet connection this morning, just hope i don't wake up hal. what's this? an email from tim... that's nice. and ed. he reccommends three classes, though it isn't enough for full financial aid. i'll remember that... and take the course on art and the real. right. wouldn't be a bad idea to pack up and head for the train. it's a long way out to stony brook... make sure you've got something to read. can i avoid jammed packed cars to penn station if i leave this early? i really hate having to run into people just to make it out at my stop. or do i? there is something enjoyable about putting your head down and silently, but resolutely saying, 'look out world, here comes matty j.'

its turtles all the way down...

2005-08-19T02:02:00.000-04:00

Mood: Apprehensive
Music: Elton John, "Tiny Dancer"

Can I juggle school full time (is that four classes or just three?) and my new job? This has been the question weighing on my mind today, since I recently secured a job through a temp agency. The job is pretty sweet... I'm working for a non-profit called Wildcat Service Corporation that is honoring one of theirs by throwing a benefit in honor of her retirement. So, I'm managing a database of invitees, sending out letters to important people like former mayor Rudy Giuliani and Hillary Rodham Clinton—in addition to wealthy folks prone to donating large sums of money to our cause—to garner support for the endeavor. It's been an intense two days, but I'm finding it a very enjoyable experience so far. And learning how capable I am. The office is in downtown Manhattan (just North of Battery Park) so I get to feel like hot shit on my way to work.

People really seem to like me there and I work primarily with a sassy hispanic woman who calls me things like, "Hon" and needs me to repeat most things I say. She's cool though. The woman we're working for grew up in Lansing, MI and though she is quiet and reserved, she clearly values my opinion a lot and we've established a decent rapport. After a hectic day yesterday (they didn't really have their stuff together and have been behind schedule on the project), she seemed surprised and grateful to see me back at the office again the next day and asked, "So, you decided to come back to the madness?" And to be honest, I had considered not going back, but felt I needed to help them out and truth be told I enjoy being needed. I told her that the thought, "Maybe I should just ditch the place..." had crossed my mind, I couldn't tear myself away. And it was true. But oddly, I'm really glad to be working there until November. I just hope it doesn't interfere with school.

Which is another concern altogther—you know, I sometimes wonder if this blog is like a Dumbledorian 'pensieve' where I can suck my manic worries out of my head and look at them for a clearer picture—I'm currently feeling pressure to get my academic administrative stuff taken care of. But even when that is taken care of, there is still the course work to compete with working 25 hrs/week. Now, I feel like an ubermensch so can someone who has been there before tell me if I can handle a part-time job and full-time school? In anticipation, I'm trying to gradually train myself to need less sleep... waking up earlier and staying up later. Should give me some more read time. Tomorrow is orientation, which should help get some of my questions answered. So. There you have my concerns. Don't mean to be so selfish. What are yours?

And now for your moment of zen, a man with the weight of the world upon his shoulders:

apartment pictures!!!

2005-08-16T15:48:00.000-04:00

Here's Bean and me on the steps to the new place. I've got loads of other photos, just need to find the best way to upload them.

2005-08-16T12:52:00.000-04:00

i'm here now.

2005-08-14T19:25:00.000-04:00

Moved into the new place on Tuesday. The quarters are tight, but the city is enormous. I've been having a hard time finding a reliable wifi hotspot, so when even the libraries proved a bust this afternoon, I broke down and am paying for service at a nearby Starbucks. Could be worse. You, my devoted readers may have to be patient as the posts are fewer and farther between, though I will work to remedy the situation as I am able. Am hoping to be able to afford a connection for the apartment, but maybe that's more convenience than I ought to expect.

Off I go to scour the net for job hunting information. Will be looking into temp agencies tomorrow and maybe I'll even hear back from some places that got my fabulous resume soon. Then I'll make some pasta for dinner, read Harry Potter and sleep more comfortably with the hospitable weather being thrown my way.

Sleep.

2005-08-09T07:49:00.000-04:00

After a tiring, but mostly uneventful 694 miles (plus some time being lost in New Jersey) we checked into our comfy Comfort Inn room. Tomorrow's journey is much shorter. Much to my delight, the hotel is equipped with wifi. What a country.

Reading Melissa's notes & blog, I become teary eyed and lonesome, but soon draw comfort from family, some decaf coffee, and a smoke. Despite radical changes in my life, at least one thing tangibly remains the same. Sleep. And it's always good.

2005-08-07T17:22:00.000-04:00

I've never seen the movie, but if this survey is comparing me to Jimmy Stewart, I say, "MERRY CHRISTMAS MR.POTTER!!!"

What Classic Movie Are You?
personality tests by similarminds.com

2005-08-07T01:47:00.000-04:00

I watched Donnie Darko and The Big Lebowski with Melissa, Jim and Hilde on Hilde's fabulous new Aquuos television as a sort of going away party. I'll be leaving for New York City early on Monday morning, with a truck full of my stuff and a very generous father. We'll be moving in on Tuesday morning.

The air is becoming very heavy between Melissa and I with the move coming up so soon. Little things like the way she might tip her head or act pouty while I pack set me nearly to the point tears. Last night, she laid in my arms and before we knew it, we both had begun to sob. Later in the evening I went outside, thinking what a weird thing life is at my age. Always changing. Then I heard some music being played blocks away:

Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes
Turn and face the strange ch-ch-changes
Don't want to be a richer man
Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes
Turn and face the strange ch-ch-changes
Just gonna have to be a different man
Time may change me, but I can't trace time.

I thought it was funny and it reminded me of my uncle Ray who used to fix my car with me. The song came on the radio quite often and he would always seem to pay special attention to it. Turning up the volume or ignoring my questions while it was on. I asked him if he liked it one day. Turns out it was a popular song when he was graduating from High School, marrying my aunt Pam and looking for work. He said he always felt that the song was about him, that it was a soundtrack for his life.

Me too.

Google Sightseeing

2005-08-06T16:54:00.000-04:00

My new found fascination with Google's mapping service, which allows a satellite image of many places on earth, has brought me to Google Sightseeing in which users post either bizarre findings or other wonders of the world. If like me, you find Google's satellite images not only creepy and disconcerting but compelling and engrossing, prepare yourself to spend hours being awed by this enormous orb we inhabit.

2005-08-06T02:41:00.000-04:00

After two and a half hours of sleep, Melissa and I woke up to open the coffee shop. It was difficult, but mostly uneventful—trying to convey all the tips and tricks that I picked up throughout the past year really didn't take too long, despite how clever I think I am. A tall, thin and sick looking man (probably homeless) came in around 7am and used the bathroom, sat down on the couch and fell asleep.

The day went on without much event. I said goodbye to old regulars and they said hello to Melissa. I'm glad to know that in some extended way I'll continue to be connected to them. As the morning wore on I became more enervated. Just as I was delighting being done and was having fantasies of reading 'The Half-Blood Prince' for the second time, with a purring cat on my chest, Paul asked if I would work his shift. "I can't," I was quick to insist, "there's just no way. I'm so tired. I bet I'd pass out." It didn't even feel like I was exaggerating. The homeless man had tipped over so that his body above his waist was lying down but his legs and butt were still in a sitting position. It looked very uncomfortable.

"Oh, well, seeing as you're broke, I just thought maybe you could use the money," Melissa was quick to remind me. And she had a point, even if thirty five dollars wasn't going to solve my problems.

I took the shift from Paul and though I did feel extremely tired, this quickly turned to that kind of tired you get at a sleep over, where you could fall asleep at any time, if only Sean would stop making you laugh so damn hard. And giggle I did. For nearly the entire shift, writing notes on people's drink club cards like, "YOUR LIFE IS BEAUTIFUL" and "YOU WILL DIE TONITE" to name a few. I began to wonder if the homeless person had died on the back couch.

He hadn't. When I noticed his tired, bloodshot eyes and slow, stiff and jerky movements I brought him a croissant and cup of coffee. He thanked me, but I couldn't help but be shocked at the self-satisfaction I felt from giving him a croissant that we'd have thrown away anyway and a cup of coffee that I might easily have spilled on the floor the day before. My 'generousity' was anything but. It's easy to be generous with things that aren't yours, especially when it makes you feel so hospitable. And who doesn't like having guests that they can serve coffee to? When the man told me how grateful he was and that may 'God bless' I could only answer, 'It's no problem, really. My pleasure.' I really meant it. Which makes me wonder whether an act of kindness amounts to a moral action when 1. it was so easy and 2. my own will experienced no conflict with the duty that compelled me to feed a man who was obviously starving. My impression is that a philosopher like Kant would insist that the true test of my hospitality would have been whether my offer would stand for a disgusting man who called me an idiot and wanted the money in my tip cup, not the stale croissant that wouldn't sell. Whether I've understood Kant or not, would my duty compell me to the same action when I didn't want to do it? Is this where morality lies?

Christ said, "Whatever you do to the least of my brethern, you do unto me." Maybe Kant is right, without negating the importance of offering hospitality to all those in need. We just shouldn't stop because, "This one is smelly" or "I'm having a lousy day" or even "This one has more money than I do."

2005-08-04T13:04:00.000-04:00

sadness can creep up on a person so stealthily, so quickly. i wake up in the morning, encouraged by some optimistic dreams that i can't recall, but which never the less leave an unmistakeable residue of resilience, greatness and sovereignty. i can accomplish whatever i put my mind to. obstacles fall below my concern.

but then... the morning goes on and suddenly, this energy finds no outlet. there's nothing for me to conquer today. it subsides and becomes wasted? misspent? or latent? potential?

i now find myself not only unchallenged, but without any goal. its hard to overcome that which resides in nothingness. what was it that i wanted to do today? what did i feel the need to uncover? what will i defeat?

i'll be meeting with my new roommates this evening, if all goes according to plan. we'll discuss hal living with us and likely, finances. having been something of a leech off andy's own security, this conversation makes me nervous, however much i respect, enjoy and trust andy. i'm not afraid of his scrutiny, i'm afraid to fess up to my own financial state, which won't be an easy affair this month.

enough of this. on with it then. i can read some harry potter until we all connect, being encouraged and comforted by this familiar hero whose support and resources aren't unlike my own.

2005-08-04T12:02:00.000-04:00

test post...

2005-08-01T15:13:00.000-04:00