12 Feb 2013

Screen Shot 2012-09-17 at 2.08.29 PM

Edward G. Nilges, “Homage to Garcia Lorca”, pencil, Gimp, quotes inserted using Paint. September 2011, Copyright 2012 (c) by Edward G. Nilges moral rights asserted.

25 minute air conducting Beethoven’s Sixth Symphony, 10 min using the triangle thing above my bed. Because there is a public holiday on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday I won’t get physio until Thursday. I have continued good muscle tone in the upper body and this is important for tasks such as propelling myself in wheelchairs and getting out of bed given the weakness in my legs.

Trying to maintain an even strain. My sister left yesterday and it is unlikely she’ll be able to return soon. The flight isn’t cheap (750…1000 USD r/t coach) although the best carrier between Chicago and Hong Kong (Cathay Pacific) is high quality with a good on-time record, state of the art passenger video and a great film library. Best of all its seats in coach are the best in the world altho as far as I know they may have been emulated.

The intervention of a friend helped me upgrade, during the trip from Hong Kong to Chicago for my son’s funeral last October, to Cathay Pacific’s business class. It was quite comfortable but the three adjacent coach class seats I was assigned as a sick traveler on return to Hong Kong without the money to upgrade were just as comfortable and neither prevented my “deep vein thrombosis” which combined with the big C has kept me in hospital almost ever since.

Certainly a sticky wicket but I am reasonably successful at focusing on the Now which is usually silly, happy, holy (saelig). I had a siege of pain this morning which retreated for the most part against morphine fast release bug juice. I’m like the guy in The Thin Red Line who’s been shot up at the top of the ridge and demands morphine which in WWII came in the form of injectable syrettes…except for not having his pain level. Sean Penn gives him enough to kill him since he can’t be dragged of the ridge.

I do hope to get back to the land of the living. I am due for my Leuprorelin Acetate three-month injection. This may help better than November’s injection owing to the fact, perhaps, that in November of last year I was a basket case due to the loss of my son.

Hmm, I just got a hit of Morphine Joy Juice because the nurse really wants to clean my agonizing bedsore. I was certain this had already been done but the more care this thing receives the better.

The Incomprehensible Maestro

…loves the Pastoral for its truly “pastoral” escape from the four-movement sonata form although, as the I.M. points out with his usual depth and perception the “allegro” (4th movement) movement (Sturm: Gewitter) could be by the rule set by a later symphony (the Ninth) made the same movement merged with the fifth movement creating a four-movement structure in which the last movement is climactic and opposed to the classical models set by Haydn, Mozart and Beethoven himself in earlier symphonies where the good stuff comes first.

“Beethoven”, prosed the I.M., “vas in fact zee originator of the Mahlerian idea sat a symphony must seek aufhebung at zee end, vereas in zee Haydn undt Mozart symphonies, the composer had to throw culinary delights at zee audience at the start”.

Further prose from the dear old I.M. interrupted by the clamoring of Max undt Moritz for the Pastoral, a symphony which they love. They executed a very nice Bergamask during the first Allegro.

Further notes

But what, if anything, is the meaning of the symphony when it is always about alienation? Marx prophesied this end, which it must be remembered (as it must be remembered at all cases of death is as aufhebung, a beginning), which would be the end of art rawly considered. If I needed a symphony I’d write my own in some cases, freed by the end of the cash nexus to figure out how to sell the symphony. (Certainly and in King Lear’s words, “’twere a delicate stratagem” to get there from here, and to have a society of free money and/or stuff. Might be worth a mathematical model. But so far this society hasn’t worked.)

I could be quite angry and bitter: this cancer has deprived me of a pleasant retirement, so far. Instead I’ve had to slave away for decades at alienating programming tasks and now, with the prospect of a pleasant retirement, it is snatched away, meaning that my usefulness to society was only as a little computer programmer: the health insurance system of the USA is essentially a work or die system.

But the fact is that I chose my life, and I actively sought good waged work both because I liked to go to work and because I have child support responsibilities. As I emphasized to my fellow cast members ad nauseum in our Glen Garry Glen Ross production, Sheldon Levene was a subject as well as an object who chose, in the world of the film, to be a real douchebag; a perp of the everyday violence and its victim. But: I am afraid I’ve just described most of us. “Damaged life cannot be lived rightly”.

Spelling Lesson with Errata

In the original post his was dead wrong on my part:

“In the above, it was driving me crazy: I was trying to remember how to spell ad nauseum in my weariness, trying too many variations with an extra “e” until I gave up and Googled. The simple heuristic is that “nauseum” is “museum” after taking out the na and adding m.”

The AN phrase ends in am and not in um. Apologies for my carelessness in not checking the spelling and thanks to the frightfully learned Dr W. for the correction.

There was a young lad who, ad nauseam
Complained of “boredom” viewing paintings on a visit to the museum:
But stilled we his plaint
(‘Cause patient we ain’t)
By luridly describing the meaning of some!

I still think the rhyme works because it’s on an unstressed syllable and many Americans pronounce “museum” as “mu-se-aaahm”.


2 Responses to “12 Feb 2013”

  1. I’m so sorry to hear about your son. It must have been (be) so difficult to cope with, especially while being unwell. But dont forget you are still in the ‘land of the living’, or as the Buddhists call it, the ‘bardo of the living’, every stage from birth to death and beyond being an intermediate and temporary one…we’re all wayfarers, most of us just can’t bear to think on it. Best wishes.

    • spinoza1111 Says:

      Thank you Michele. I am fortunate that I must speak of such “heavy matters”:

      “Heavy matters! heavy matters! but look thee here,
      boy. Now bless thyself: thou mettest with things
      dying, I with things newborn.” – Shakespeare, Winter’s Tale

      And, I am also fortunate in that the old remedies (drinking and smoking) do not work.

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