backhome
back to journal index
Monday 10/30/00
Things are much more fun now than they were earlier, now that I've pretty much gotten over being bitter about high school. But I found this, and you're going to be forced to read it:
Quando per dilettanze o ver per doglie
che alcuna viru nostra comprenda,
l'anima bene ad essa si raccoglie
par ch'a nulla potenza piu intenda;
e questo e contra quello error che crede
ch'un' anima sovr' altra in noi s'accenda.
E pero, quando s'ode cosa o vede
che tegna forte a se l'anima volta,
vassene 'l tempo e l'uom non se n'avvede;
ch'altra potenza e quella che l'ascolta,
e altra e quella c'ha l'anima intera:
questa e quasi legata e quella e sciolta.
Which, for my non-Italian-reading or non-english-translation-of-Il-Purgatorio-having readership is:
When any of our faculties retains
a strong impression of delight or pain,
the soul will wholly concentrate on that,
neglecting any other power it has
(and this refutes the error that maintains
that--one above the other--several souls
can flame in us); and thus, when something seen
or heard secures the soul in stringent grip,
time moves and yet we do not notice it.
The power that perceives the course of time
is not the power that captures all the mind;
the former has no force--the latter binds.
And there you have it. At once a refutation of Plato's assertion that there is a plurality of souls in every man and a justification of rude behavior due to the ineluctable grip of the past.
Mundane things: woke up at eleven a.m. Made a few German flashcards. Took a shower. Went to class. Most people present stupid. Such is life. Fortunately, rubes are a handy source of capital. This consolation offered by the world is small, but it may be enough.
I spent the beginning of the afternoon listening to A-Ha and Adam Ant and Fine Young Cannibals and Dee Lite and Guns 'n' Roses and Nena and The Nails and Men Without Hats and The Buggles and Falco. Wonderful.
If you're reading this from a public terminal, do me a favor. When you're done with the computer, open a notepad and type something vulgar. I suggest the following:
If you see kay,
tell her today
see you in tea,
tell her from me.
And it's from Ulysses! Today sure is a day full of literary bullshit. And it's only 3:10 p.m. Whee!
Hopefully something interesting will happen later and I can write all about it. I'm going to go get some food since I haven't eaten in a day and my vision is going all white.
back
next
