Tuesday, February 16, 2010

Fastnacht Day

I love being a Dutchie in February. Groundhog Day, then Fastnacht Day. I hope all Pennsylvanians have a wonderful month. Especially our families, friends, and the Lafayette and Villanova basketball teams.

B.

Monday, January 25, 2010

Burns Day

In honor of the Poet of all poets:

O wad some Power the giftie gie us
To see oursels as ithers see us!
It wad frae monie a blunder free us,
An' foolish notion:
What airs in dress an' gait wad lea'e us,
An' ev'n devotion!

Indeed.

-B.

Saturday, January 23, 2010

Finally back, and it's the middle of the night

Hey, bud. Been having this monumental case of insomnia the past two weeks, which is especially bad since late night television is so rotten lately. What happened to all the movies? It's just lousy infomercials and poker. Anyway, here we are again, 2 a.m. or so, not feeling like reading. What I am doing, however, is listening to that old CD in the cardboard sleeve of Schubert's Unfinished Symphony, the one I've had since we lived in the suites at Moravian. I can't remember the last time I heard it, but god, listening to it through headphones in the middle of the night with a case of unspecified anxiety is trippy. And wonderful. Those low strings are incredibly moving, and ol' Schub always could write some nice clarinet lines... Maybe I should do this every night? Not that it is relaxing, but it acknowledges the beauty of unhappiness (or something like that--maybe I'm just full of crap and it is stupidly late and I'm stupidly bored).

I hope your own psyche is in a more peaceful state, and that you see this sometime soon. I don't know how often you check this, but I obsessively do every so often, with a sense of guilt for letting it go so long, of course. I trust all is well down there in the big city; I certainly pray so, anyway.

I suppose that is all for now: I'll try to read one of these books after the second movement ends. I also brought my Bartok string quartets upstairs with me, but I doubt that will lend itself to concentration.

Take care of you and yours,
B.

Sunday, June 21, 2009

Iran's Rage Against the Machine - Freedom

A youtube music video about the protests I found on the Huffingtonpost this morning.

Iran's Rage Against the Machine - Freedom

~Octavius Hussein Hinnerschitz

Thursday, June 18, 2009

Blogging Iran...

I have to say that I have been totally drawn into the recent events in Iran. I was sucked in over the weekend by the Huffingtonpost's live blogging and now am checking in quite regularly. It is remarkable how much more information is available on various blogs than in the media. That said, there have been a number of examples of information that has been retracted after being posted in error or just being false to start with. I remember being glued to CNN 20 years ago in June watching the Tianamen Square protests and aftermath. Now I'm glued to my computer and the traditional media have just begun to pay some attention to these events in earnest.

Sunday, May 31, 2009

For Walt's birthday

The first stanza of one of the best poems:



OUT of the cradle endlessly rocking,
Out of the mocking-bird’s throat, the musical shuttle,
Out of the Ninth-month midnight,
Over the sterile sands, and the fields beyond, where the child, leaving his bed, wander’d alone, bare-headed, barefoot,
Down from the shower’d halo, 5
Up from the mystic play of shadows, twining and twisting as if they were alive,
Out from the patches of briers and blackberries,
From the memories of the bird that chanted to me,
From your memories, sad brother—from the fitful risings and fallings I heard,
From under that yellow half-moon, late-risen, and swollen as if with tears, 10
From those beginning notes of sickness and love, there in the transparent mist,
From the thousand responses of my heart, never to cease,
From the myriad thence-arous’d words,
From the word stronger and more delicious than any,
From such, as now they start, the scene revisiting, 15
As a flock, twittering, rising, or overhead passing,
Borne hither—ere all eludes me, hurriedly,
A man—yet by these tears a little boy again,
Throwing myself on the sand, confronting the waves,
I, chanter of pains and joys, uniter of here and hereafter, 20
Taking all hints to use them—but swiftly leaping beyond them,
A reminiscence sing.

Tuesday, May 26, 2009

John O'Hara's Pottsville

I confess that I haven't read any O'Hara yet, but I can already see how he could have been an influence on Updike based on this story in to the Inky.

John O'Hara's Pottsville in the Inquirer today.