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I recently started re-reading Herman Hesse’s Demian, a book I read a few years ago and really enjoyed. Much like my experience in reading Hesse’s Siddhartha, the book made me really examine myself, my inner workings, and I felt that I came out with a better understanding of myself and my place in the world when I was finished. It’s not that it changed me, but it changed my perceptions and interpretations of myself. Besides Hesse, the only other author who affects me on this level is Haruki Murukami (in general, and Wind-up Bird Chronicle in particular). But I digress.

Upon re-reading, I felt the same sense of happiness and understanding that I had derived from the book the first time, and found a passage that really helped me to bluntly address some of the stuff I’ve been going through over the past two years:

But where we have given of our love and respect not from habit but of our own free will, where we have been disciples and friends of our innermost hearts, it is a bitter and horrible moment when we suddenly recognize that the current within us wants to pull us away from what is dearest to us. Then every thought that rejects the friend and mentor turns in our hearts like a poisoned barb, then each blow struck in defense flies back into one’s own face, the words ‘disloyalty’ and ‘ingratitude’ strike the person who feels he was morally sound like catcalls and stigma, and the frightened heart flees timidly back to the charmed valleys of childhood virtues, unable to believe that this break, too, must be made, this bond also broken.

Everyone goes through the experience of drifting away from those you considered closest, and I ‘ve known and acknowledged how unhappy these events made me. But sometimes, having someone else articulate exactly what you know to be true can be a big step in not just acknowledging it, but moving past it as well.


Not in the cool, kinky way either.

Mostly because I have spent the entire day reading about this Shirley Sherrod bullshit, and the days before reading about the NAACP/tea party bullshit.

I said before that I didn’t want this blog to be too political, but this week I feel like I’m living in the Twilight Zone. All the white racists are not racist, but any black person who talks about racism hates white people and can even be fired from their jobs, thus proving to the white racists that in fact, it is black people who have really been racist all along. It’s like they’re rewriting history and no one is doing anything to stop it.
Granted, this is not as scary as the episode of Twilight Zone with the bank teller in coke bottle glasses who is always being disturbed when he tried to read, so he goes down into the bank vault, and then a nuclear bomb goes off and he thinks he is the last person alive and he finds a gun to shoot himself with, but then he sees a library and drops the gun and runs to his dream come true, which is all the time to read in the world, and then his glasses break, and he is so blind that he can’t see well enough to read or find the gun to kill himself. It’s pretty close though.

Ta-Nehesi Coates put this video up last week in response to the initial tea party flap. It’s still damn funny today, but a bit less so in light of all the stuff going on:

I got a friend request on Facebook last night.

From my dog.

Who is dead.

Yeah, that’s totally not traumatizing.


R.I.P. Max!

Spice up your wardobe with a little hate.

This is a t-shirt that was being sold at a Fourth of July festival in Lexington, Kentucky. I guess it’s helpful in that it gets rid of the guess work.