Awright . . . now MY head hurts

Where do I start?

I once started reading Heidegger's Being and Time (Sein und Zeit) some time ago, but from somewhere in the middle (like all good mathematicians: start in the middle and work toward each end). It was appropriate at the time as I was working with hermeneutics and "the Uncanny" (Das Unheimliche) in relation to literary texts and the section of Being and Time associated with notions of uncanny-ness is toward the middle of the text. But I always (already) knew that sooner or later I would have to read Heidegger's text from beginning to end, given adequate time.

Well, today I stumbled over a re-release of what was once THE translation. I hate going into a Barnes & Noble with no particular text on my mind. And I bought the book (even though I have a hard cover of the original on my shelf at home; or, perhaps, because I have an original hardcover on my shelf at home and I am an interactive reader who freely marks up his books). And I have started to read AT it by reading the "front matter."

In the foreword, it is suggested that the idea of "being" is about both everything and nothing. And, it is a notion unlike many of the others which occupy a similar grammatical position. The example used is associated with water: we can say "water exists" and we can say "water boils" and at the grammatical level they seem quite similar statements. But, and here is what makes my head hurt (today): we know both what boiling and non-boiling water is; but just WHAT is non-existing water?

What does it mean for some thing that is to not "be"?

My head hurts . . .

Inertia

Some miscellaneous, not fully connected thoughts at the moment . . . but, considering the Semiotic Square in relation to narrative I started to consider the notion of INERTIA which, within its definition/description contains/envelopes its own opposite: motion and stasis. but also stasis in motion, that is, unchanging motion (unless, of course, acted upon by some outside force -- which could be a stationary object . . . and so on). This led to considerations of the role (roll?) of inertia in affecting/effecting (I won't say here "promoting") narrative progression. Which then led to considerations of the relation to a recent topic of discussion among some narratologists: narrative "speed."

Like I said: miscellaneous and certainly not fully connected nor fully thought out. But, that said, there IS something there, something worth considering and perhaps there might even be a paper or article hidden in there.

If only I could overcome my intertia!

Feelin' folksy . . .

I am listenin' to our local NPR station (Las Cruces, KRWG) and feelin' a bit nostalgic. Or is that maudlin (without a 'g')? The "show" or "program" that is on this time of night is called The Back Porch. And the host, Benji Rivas, plays a lot of folk, country, bluegrass, and COWBOY music. There are few things in this world like a pedal-steel guitar and some Hank Williams-style cryin' in yer beer music. Does the heart and mind good. It calls up dim recollections of playin' bar billiards on dollar beer nights and listenin' to Jimmy Buffet on the jukebox. Or, evenings at The Sugared Mule, in Colorado Springs. Or, Cafe Lena in Saratoga, NY. Or, Red Rocks outside of Denver. Or . . . the list could go on forever. Large parts of my past, including friend's living rooms and patios, are filled with this kind of music. It was on a night like this that I tracked down an old roommate from my pre-Navy days (daze?); and . . . he was still out there and still listening to this sort of music. It is on nights like this that I prowl the amazon.com mp3 music lists and spend money that I know I should not.

Ain't life grand . . . now Benji's playin' some sort of big band/country mix. Yow!