Anamnesis, exegesis, diegesis, catachresis-- a load of meaningless Greek!
The wise man who wishes to know the state of his soul looks at the half-moon of his fingernails.
-- Jean Baudrillard, Cool Memories.
And:
The grasshoppers are all gone. They've been replaced by billions
of mosquitoes. I liked the grasshoppers better.
And:
I am gearing up for my last day at work. I wonder what teaching
a class will be like. Even if it is only one class a week, which
is totally fine by me.
And:
Not much news on the tv about that kidnapped girl, now. Now,
there's lots of talk about Bush invading Iraq.
And:
The mosquitoes are all gone. They've been replaced by grasshoppers.
And, now, it seems like there are even more grasshoppers than before.
And:
I'll be moving, soon. Into a condo. I'm on the top floor.
This is a change from my basement. At least, now, I'll have real
light, not just these horrible, blinding florescents that dry out my eyes
and make me squint.
And:
Last few days at work, I'm struggling to not tell customers what I
think of them. People are petty and stupid, and even more so around
store clerks. I know how much the clerks behind the counters hate
customers, and so, now, I know, when I walk into a store, how much the
people behind the counter hate me. And with that knowledge, I am
never going to-- never-- never-- give any clerks a hard time ever again.
There used to be a time when "the customers is always right" meant something,
a time when clerks had to cater to customers, put up with thir stupidities--
but now there are so many people that all customers are faceless interruptions.
(And there was also a time where customers weren't always so very, very
rude and stupid. A time when people put things back where they found
them, and didn't vomit in the doorway. A time when people actually
went into a store and didn't want to pick fights for no reason.)
And, I remember once, at the store, a friend told me that I should value
customers (I think at the time he was trying to get me to kiss his ass)--
he told me that even if they are interrupting something, or are
rude and stupid, I should cater to them. (He was looking for a deal,
I think.) But I said: "Customers, on the whole are ignorant, stupid
and useless." Then he told me that because I had that attitude
he was never shopping at my store again. He was going to go somewhere
where he was wanted. I told him he was not wanted, anywhere.
I told him my attitude is the same attitude as all the store clerks in
the entire world. The only difference is, I'm voicing it. He
said then that he would stop shopping, and that everyone should stop shopping
until they are respected. So I told him that didn't matter.
And then he said: "Stores need customers to survive, y'know." And
then I said: "That's irrelevant. There will always be customers,
now, no matter how you treat them. Because there are so many people.
And so it doesn't matter if you, personally, shop at this store, because
if the store is large enough it will continue. Because size will
always attarct people. And because there are always more people--
no matter what, there are always more people-- people become an unimportant
comodity. Customers are unimportant because of sheer volume.
Because if you don't shop here and buy that thing, someone else will.
Because there are so many of people, more will always come through the
door. You can be replaced, now. No matter who you are."
And:
Last day at work.
And:
I'm moving, now. Moving into another place. A new place.
A fresh place. Got my new phone number, voicemail, new address.
I need a change. The 21st Century is getting me down.
And:
First I buy a new couch and they can't deliver it because it has to
be ordered. Then I a buy a new chair which can only be delivered
almost a month after the couch. Then I buy a kitchen table, and that
has to be ordered, too-- and then somehow the legs come in, and the table
top itself still hasn't shown up. Then there are all the boxes of
stuff to lug up all the flights of stairs. Then there's the computer
desk which I order, and then the store forgets to place the order, and
when I phone them the day the day the computer desk is supposed to arrive
and ask them why it's not here, they don't remember me. But then
I track down the guy who was supposed to order the desk and it turns out
he did order the desk, he just didn't tell anybody. So he says it'll
be delivered on Friday. And so, Friday it doesn't show so I call
again, and they still don't remember me, and they look for a desk and it's
on the floor in the warehouse with no identification on it at all.
And then they put it on a truck and the next day I have the desk.
And:
A fax machine keeps phoning me. Sometimes it calls eight times
a day. I have to turn off the ringers on my phones, it gets so bad.
I check the call display and the number is blocked.
And:
Another fax machine, from an unblocked number I try calling it,
and all I get is a fax machine.
And:
I needed a DVD player, so I bought a Playstation 2. The PS2 is
a wonderful machine. Now I can play Final Fantasy X.
Now I have no reason at all to leave my condo. Except for food and
teaching.
And:
Yet a third fax machine from yet another part of the country.
And:
More George W. Bush bullshit about Iraq on every tv channel.
And:
The plague of grasshoppers is over. It's way too cold, now.
Outside, in the evenings, I can see my own breath.
And:
Weird phonecalls asking me if I'm some sort of pet hospital in Calgary.
I tell the people that I'm not a pet hospital, and besides, this isn't
Calgary. On top of it all, they've got the wrong province.
And:
Was awakened this morning by pounding on the wall. It took me
a few minutes to get my bearings, but when I came to, I realized my mouth
tasted like blood. Turns out I had been lying on my back, in bed,
screaming. I was having a nightmare, and I was screaming. I
can't really remember the dream, but what I do recall is very abstract.
Something to do with death, and a weird "gray" feeling that I could sense
with my skin, and a feeling of being menaced by something infinite.
I wonder how long I'd been screaming. The walls here are fairly thick.
I must've been loud....
And:
Teaching my class. It's a first-year English class. It's
my job to get them talking. It doesn't always work.
And:
More stuff on tv about Iraq. And also, the Sept. 11 pseudofestivities
are gearing up. More video clips of the towers falling. Lots
of pictures of turbaned men. Things on the news about the heroism
of firefighters.
And:
Mostly, in my class, now, it's the guys who are silent. Males
are quiet, females talk. Also, males write the worst essays-- on
the whole. How, throughout history, guys got the idea that they were
smarter than girls is beyond me.
And:
My days go by so quickly, now, it scares me.
And:
On tv. Twin towers coming down. Tomorrow is September 11th.
And:
Next: Sept 11....