Alchemy of spinning crap out of gold
I send myself these cryptic notes. Sometimes I text them to myself so I have that weird experience of seeing a text arriving from me as I am sending one to me. It might say, for example, "Midlife. Man always be man v. fly." Does that mean anything to you? Me neither. But clearly on July 10 at 17.40pm it seemed like a searing insight I had to write down that might be worth putting in here some week. The 17.40pm bothers me. Sometimes the incomprehensibility of these cryptic notes is understandable, if that's not oxymoronic, because I have clearly had a few when I had the searing insight. And in the cold light of day, back on planet Earth, it's OK that I don't know what I was thinking at the time. But at 17.40pm on July 10 I shouldn't have been that far gone that I decided that "man always be man v. fly" was something I needed to pass on to the world.
The other depressing thing when I go back over all these texts to myself, each written twice - the one I sent and the one I received - is the number of books I note down that I will never read. I could give you lots of book recommendations. If you asked me for a good book to read, I could say, "Have you read Proxopera by Benedict Kiely?" And you might say, "No. Is it any good?" And I might say "Me neither. But I heard it was supposed to be good."
"Mel Gibson Producer". That was a good one. That was apparently so important at the time that it was elevated to an email. An important looking email, subject line "Midlife". And it said "Mel Gibson Producer". You would like to think there was more to that thought than that Mel Gibson is a movie producer. And you'd hope there was. But I'm damned if I know what I was on about. "Leonard brings you to your knees and makes you laugh," is presumably something someone said about Leonard Cohen somewhere that seemed insightful at the time.