|Yesterday I dared to struggle. Today I dare to win.
||[Sep. 11th, 2004|03:01 pm]
I am trying to get through The Castle of Otranto by Monday. It is so boring. Just to avoid it I am reading every other book on the shelf. And last night the car got towed with the book (thankfully) in it, so this morning I had nothing to do and I was reading The Price of My Soul, the masterfully ghostwritten autobiography of Bernadette Devlin. If you do not know who she is, suffice it to say she was barred entry into the US last year (don't know how that turned out). In the book she had a quote about moving home after her mother died and commuting to school. That it was impossible to have any sort of campus life and when she got home she didn't have any social life either because she had to study. Here the ghostwriter has hit on the truth of commuting! It's crazy how much it messes up your life. However, the ghostwriter goes on to say that it did make her very responsible and disciplined and her professors took her very seriously. So that would be the upside. :)|
I had a dream that I and one of my friends from high school, who just happens to be the only openly gay person I know from my town, were on a long road trip. After scrounging for change to get 3/$1 cookies at Kwik Trip, we retired to our hunter's lodge (hello, Nabokov?), popped some weird pills, retired to our twin beds, then I started dreaming that I was dreaming (is that meta or what?)about a drawing of a boy's face, which someone then takes chalk and alters into an old man's face. Then the scene gets larger and you can see that the picture is being drawn by Sigmund Freud. This is a tv special, and He is being interviewed by Bill Moyers, facing a blackboard with a bumper sticker above it that said WOW JOY OF LIFE, wearing women's clothes (backless black dress, tweed beret, sweater draped on one shoulder) and weeping. He says that when he was formulating his theories, he forgot what the French feminist critics call "jouissance", and what he calls "the wow joy of life." He says he should have known better, how could he have left out joy? So he is crying and Bill Moyers has to come put his sweater over his other shoulder and hug him.
So that was weird. I think it comes from watching lengthy silent movies and eating German potato salad pizza before bed.
They are filming a version of Breakfast On Pluto. Neil Jordan adapted it. I'm sure I've heard this before, but wow anyway.
And for Irish language fans, here's an Irish newspaper online.
For more fun Irish stuff you can go to Searc's web guide.
Or read The Castle of Otranto and tell me how it was.