Livin’ on bad ramen and good coffee.

And don’t forget the beer & frozen peas. Yep, life’s kinda like that… except that my mother, well, she is of normal intelligence. Now my father, he… is also of normal intelligence. Really, other than that it’s pretty much a one-for-one parallel. Or maybe it just seems that way because I’ve been sick all weekend and have been watching Mr. Show by the truckload. That, and trying to make up all of the learning I missed in class last week. So it’s been a slow few days, but it’s these easy-going sick days I actually rather cherish. There’s an excuse to kick back and take it slow, a forced restfulness that could otherwise be construed as laziness. Really, livin’s all in the way you tell it, each telling a unique universe of objects and events. Some words to express this:

“Isn’t it strange how [Kronberg Castle in Denmark] changes as soon as one imagines that Hamlet lived here? As scientists we believe that a castle consists only of stones, and admire the way the architect put them together. The stone, the green roof with its patina, the wood carvings in the church, constitute the whole castle. None of this should be changed by the fact that Hamlet lived here, and yet it is changed completely. Suddenly the walls and ramparts speak a different language. The courtyard becomes an entire world, a dark corner reminds us of the darkness of the human soul, we hear Hamlet’s “To be or not to be.” Yet all we really know is that his name appears in a thirteenth-century chrinicle. No one can prove he really lived here. But everyone knows the questions Shakespeare had him ask, the human depths he was made to reveal, and so he too had to be found in a place on earth, here in Kronberg. And once we know that, Kronberg becomes a quite different castle for us.”
-Niels Bohr, 1924.

“Isn’t it strange how [Kronberg Castle in Denmark] changes as soon as one imagines that Hamlet lived here? As scientists we believe that a castle consists only of stones, and admire the way the architect put them together. The stone, the green roof with its patina, the wood carvings in the church, constitute the whole castle. None of this should be changed by the fact that Hamlet lived here, and yet it is changed completely. Suddenly the walls and ramparts speak a different language. The courtyard becomes an entire world, a dark corner reminds us of the darkness of the human soul, we hear Hamlet’s “To be or not to be.” Yet all we really know is that his name appears in a thirteenth-century chrinicle. No one can prove he really lived here. But everyone knows the questions Shakespeare had him ask, the human depths he was made to reveal, and so he too had to be found in a place on earth, here in Kronberg. And once we know that, Kronberg becomes a quite different castle for us.”
-Niels Bohr, 1924.

So this post has been a bit stream of consciousness, but hey my mind’s coming off a cold and hopped up on caffeine. Time to attack the week, tell some stories. To all, keep on keepin’ on. It’s the only way to be.

Listening to: Sometimes in the Fall, Phoenix

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