AND IF THE earlier Prosatio Silban news isn’t thrilling enough (well, for me at least), I’m scheduled to talk about him on KSVY this coming Tuesday, May 12th, at 10:40 a.m. during Cat Smith’s “Hollywood and West Napa” show. From outside the range of Sonoma Valley’s 91.3FM station, find us at http://ksvy.org – just click the “Listen Now” button, and “Bob” will be your uncle!
Tag: writers
A breed apart from ordinary humans, and responsible for much of their culture. Some would call them the salvation of humanity; others wouldn’t call them a cab.
Arms Call
“Don’t spectate: CREATE!”
–Barbatus the Elder
Sober Assessment
TWO-AND-A-HALF MONTHS AGO, I completed my tenth year of clear-eyed, clean-headed and grateful sobriety.
Now, when some people hear that, they might think, “Great, here comes the self-righteous lecture on the evils of intoxication.” But that won’t happen, at least not from me. I don’t and won’t disdain anyone else’s recreational or coping choices; frankly, they are none of my business, and refraining from inebriation is not a crusade that I feel either comfortable or qualified to pursue toward others.
Instead, I want to speak about the rarefied and addictive intoxicant that actually “saved” me, keeping me sane and healthy not just during the past decade but all of my life – and if you know me as well as you think you do, you can already guess what that is.
WRITING.
Not for nothing did Stephen King say of this 6,000-year-old-plus art: “Do it for the buzz.” There is an ineffable thrill in watching the words spill out onto paper or screen, an actual physical and mental rush only gotten from congealing thought into alphabetic form, that’s as hard to beat as it is to describe.
And the best part is, it’s free. Easily accessible. Shareable. No more watching my money go up in a cloud of marijuana smoke; no more furtively prowling dodgy neighborhoods; no more keeping it all to myself lest I run out.
Did I mention addictive? Once you start writing, you’re hooked for life. I sometimes find myself typing and typing until I fall asleep at the keyboard, literally unable to stop ’til I drop. (True story.) E.g., tonight: I meant to take advantage of the finally clear Sonoma skies and do a bit of long-delayed stargazing. But as I write this, it’s well after 10:30pm (or, if you prefer, 2230 hours) PDT and I’m already getting sleepy.
So before I trundle off to Dreamsville, I’ll leave you this hard-earned advice: Try not to let the Great American Novel (or Essay, or Blogpost) keep you from tending your other bodily needs. Otherwise, you may find yourself face down in a pool of your own ink – or even with “QWERTYUIOP” reverse-imprinted deeply into your throbbing forehead. Nighty night.
Words To Bring Back: “Apodictic”
– Definition: adj expressing or of the nature of necessary truth or absolute certainty
– Used in a sentence: Edward R. Murrow was the exemplar of apodictic American journalism.
– Why: Because it’s easier to spell and less overused than “paradigmatic.”
Ageless Speech
SPEAKING OF H.P. LOVECRAFT, as I was in the prior post, it’s easy to dismiss him for what some have called his “overly purple prose.” He can, I admit, become extremely flowery at times, but as mentioned here and elsewhere, the man was a true poet at heart: his writing is evocative, and justly so – its literary power is derived from the consent of the reader to simply and happily wallow in it. By way of illustration, I offer the following sonnet from a collection of same on weird topics titled Fungi from Yuggoth. It speaks to me, and deeply; I hope it does the same for you.
XXXVI. Continuity
There is in certain ancient things a trace
Of some dim essence—more than form or weight;
A tenuous aether, indeterminate,
Yet linked with all the laws of time and space.
A faint, veiled sign of continuities
That outward eyes can never quite descry;
Of locked dimensions harbouring years gone by,
And out of reach except for hidden keys.
It moves me most when slanting sunbeams glow
On old farm buildings set against a hill,
And paint with life the shapes which linger still
From centuries less a dream than this we know.
In that strange light I feel I am not far
From the fixt mass whose sides the ages are.
Who Knows?
“Was I tottering on the brink of cosmic horrors beyond man’s power to bear?”
— H.P. Lovecraft, The Call of Cthulhu
Reading Assignment
WHATEVER YOU’RE DOING RIGHT NOW, stop – and order from your favorite bookseller Liel Leibovitz’ How the Talmud Can Change Your Life (Surprisingly Modern Advice from a Very Old Book). It’s a breakneck-speed, 272-page survey of Jewish history, bringing to life the key sages and lively times of the Talmud like never before, with illustrations drawn from Aldrich Ames and Billie Holiday and Weight Watchers and the Dewey Decimal System. I read it in three days, only grudgingly taking time for sleep and meals; it’s mildly profane and very learned and joyful and engaging and funny and sweeping and heartbreaking and really, really, real. You owe it to yourself, and to your understanding of Judaism, to read this book.
Seriously. Do it now.
Words to Bring Back: “Obviate”
– Definition: verb remove (a need or difficulty)
– Used in a sentence: Popular voting would obviate the problematic and obsolete Electoral College.
– Why: Because the phrase “get rid of” lacks a certain finesse.
How To Write
SUCCINCTLY.
Welcome To An All-Text, AI-Free Zone!
DEAR PATIENT READER (and anyone else who’s happened by),
Now that you’ve arrived, there are three things to know:
1. If you’re eager to meet Prosatio Silban, the self-defrocked holyman in a fantastic land who teases out a meager but honest living as a mercenary cook, allow me to introduce you!
2. You may also/instead browse at leisure a mellow mix of rusty recollections, offbeat observations, friendly particularism, tasty recipes, unpretentious poetry, entertaining quotes, recreational science, and wry spirituality.
3. Whichever you choose – please enjoy!
Thank you for your patronage,
First Graf (rather, Line): The Lord of the Rings
OF THE 90% PETER JACKSON got right in his 11-hour and 22-minute adaptation of J.R.R. Tolkien’s best-beloved work – the lush landscapes, the Balrog, Elves, the Nazgul, Sauron, Orcs and Uruk-hai, Gollum, Ents, hobbits (MY GHAWD! THE HOBBITS!!!), the Ring, Grima, the very different cultures and props and sets and cities and overall “look” – he got right in abundance.
But that other 10% … oy.
Read the actual books and you’ll discover that Aragorn is not a timid wimp, Gimli is not comic relief, Arwen isn’t an avenging angel, Saruman and Gandalf never duked it out with magic staves, Faramir didn’t try to bring the Ring to his father, the dialogue is more formal and less modern (except for the rustic hobbits), there’s a wonderful character named Tom Bombadil, and the book features a single climax instead of three simultaneous ones. And that well-traveled literary road begins, quite simply, like this:
When Mr. Bilbo Baggins of Bag End announced that he would shortly be celebrating his eleventy-first birthday with a party of special magnificence, there was much talk and excitement in Hobbiton.
Not Another Word
Silence is the language of God. Everything else is a poor translation.”
— Rumi