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An illustration from a 1904 issue of Harper's magazine. The caption reads: "Her outstretched arms seemed to close upon something."
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In the wee hours of January 17, 2013, I dreamed of writing to Larry Hass. He had requested the template from a printing company that I use (full of cut lines and bleeding, come to think of it!). I noticed on my laptop screen that the file of Larry's request had surprisingly disappeared once I'd printed out the template. (Behest and fruition adding up to one, not two?) As I began to handwrite a cover letter for the printout, I noticed that the paper was unusually fibrous (papyrus?), the back being somewhat smoother than the front. Within mid-sentence (asking "Did you request this?" since I had no evidence of a request), I noticed that I'd inexplicably switched to the back of the page. (When front and back merge, aren't we in Möbius territory?) This happened twice, and I crumpled up the very crisp pages with divided sentences. On my third try, I decided to begin on the smoother side to see if my pen would stay there. (Apparently it worked.) As I wrote, I was aware of three mismatched clocks. (A fullness of time? A three-in-one mystery?) When I set off to mail the letter, my feet ran in place like Fred Flintstone. (Motion/stillness? Point B indistinguishable from point A? "Modern stone age"?) After I dreamed this, as I remained asleep, I lucidly recalled the details and dream-typed this transcript to Larry three different times, as if the message were so important that I mustn't forget anything upon waking! |
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An illustration from a 1912 issue of Life magazine. Text within the image: It was a fine chance, BUT—
He is a good man on the job, BUT—
I would like to marry you George, BUT—
Napoleon had the battle won, BUT—
Your story is very good, BUT—
I would give you an order, BUT—
Yes, we are in the market, BUT—
I like your work, BUT—
I would give you the job in a minute, BUT—
It was a clear night and the sea was calm, BUT—
Enjoy yourself, BUT—
Spain once ruled the world, BUT—
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Ludwig Wittgenstein suggested that memory cannot be said to communicate the past to us. "For even supposing that memory were an audible voice that spoke to us—how could we understand it? If it tells us e.g. 'Yesterday the weather was fine,' how can I learn what 'yesterday' means?" ( Zettel, 40th Anniversary Edition, translated by G. E. M. Anscombe). |
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"I looked in": an illustration from a 1905 issue of The Windsor magazine.
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Doctor Dolittle notwithstanding: "So perhaps the answer is simply to collect all the facts, and then make a judgement. But is it possible to collect all the facts? You cannot, after all, talk to the chickens." — For Business Ethics (2005)
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An illustration from a 1904 issue of The Windsor magazine. The caption reads: "Always that white baby hand called upwards through the earth."
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Bitter feelings were in the little girl's heart (as we learn in Mrs. Molesworth's The Bolted Door, 1906). Indeed, "Long before your children are capable of expressing their feelings in words, you see in them the exhibitions of pride, anger, revenge, selfishness, and other evil passions; and these 'roots of bitterness' are constantly 'springing up' at every subsequent period of life" ( Joseph Cross, Headlands of Faith, 1856). |
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Our friend KC shared this dream from 1999: I was with Craig C. and a few other people on an exploratory voyage. It seemed like we were on a spaceship, but there wasn't much sense of it being that physical. We were exploring different levels of reality, and discovered that to go from one level to the next higher, we had to place our attention on the sun of the nearest solar system, and once we focused on it, we would awaken in the next higher reality. But each level was different enough that the technique had to be altered for each level.
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An illustration from a 1905 issue of The Windsor magazine. The caption reads: "Then the terrible thing happened."
Jonathan offers a zinger: ""She looked straight at me through her mono-lorgnette!"
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Communing With the Buffalo Spirit: an illustration from a 1907 issue of The Windsor magazine.
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An illustration from a 1904 issue of The Windsor magazine. The caption reads: "Once more he placed the men, and once more they started of their own volition."
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"What he saw reflected there, Christ alone knows." From Appleton's magazine, 1905.
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"This might surprise you: Your brain is still growing."
