Primer
"What at night seems oh so scenic
May be cynic by and by...."
Sometime in November 2001, Leon and I were reclining in my room at the 310, he alternating between pacing and lying on the floor with his feet propped on the door, I alternating between typing at my computer and turning, feet on the desk, to talk. We were doing what we always did in the 310 ... talking, exorcising the world's demons. It was overcast. It was mid-afternoon. I remember the setting quite well, because it was then and there that I heard one of the most profound and true and helpful things I have yet heard.
We were talking about life, and change, and other such standard, huge topics that can never be totally talked out. And then, unplanned, simply inspired, he started saying it, and within a couple of lines I had popped open a text editor and was racing to record it verbatim. I didn't take my fingers off the keyboard, and took my eyes off the screen only long enough to glance around every few seconds and see him pacing and tearing at the air with clenched fists, until I was sure he was finished.
"I feel like I'm getting to the point," he began, "where I know that I have encountered X, and I've encoutered it Y number of times, and I know how to deal with this situation in the most appropriate and efficient way.
"There's an element of unpredictablility I used to have where I didn't know quite what I was going to do, but it's slowly drifting away. It's like a deterministic clock that's quietly whispering to me, 'You've done this before and you're aware of the quickest and easiest solution.' And there's another part of me saying, 'Remember the magic, the uncertainty, the colors,' and slowly, the kind of biological-chemical machine is taking over it, and that's what growing up is.
"I can feel my body priming itself for efficiency. I feel like it's become more efficient with disregarding irrational notions, a healthier sleep cycle, a more balanced diet -- it's becoming more efficient with my head. It's my feelings that are becoming more efficient. 'Efficiency' is the key word. That's what growing up is. You learn how to become a more adept food provider, how to feed yourself easier, how to find sex easier, how to find all the animalistic, biological needs easier. And slowly, the machine in me is killing the randomness for the sake of mental efficiency."
Killing the randomness for the sake of mental efficiency. Quietly whispering to me, "You've done this before and you're aware of the quickest and easiest solution."
And damn if he wasn't right. It applies to being in relationships. It applies to employment. It applies to driving. It applies to coding. It applies to your morning routine. It even alters your metaconsciousness -- what you think about what you think about -- which things you ponder and fret about, and which things you simply shrug off: "Efficiency rule 738: Item X is not worthy of contemplation. It'll only get you upset and confused. Referents: Life situations 272, 8362, 9242. Suggested course of action: See if it's still a problem next week; think about it then. Primed for efficiency. Locked, cocked, ready to rock. c:\>." It affects everything.
It makes you more cynical, more tolerant, more aware of beauty and innocence, less sensitive to beauty and innocence; it gives you perspective "from a higher altitude"...
I begin to think the ages have given this phenomenon a name: that name is Wisdom.
* * *
K has been playing Luisa in a local production of The Fantasticks, which is, if what I read does not give lie, the longest-running musical ever. I can't say I'm surprised. I walked in knowing nothing of the musical, really going only to see K. But I was taken aback by it. Powerful, in an understated, uneasy, sober but self-consciously silly way. It reminds me stylistically of the Barenaked Ladies. Power rumbling beneath gaiety, and just enough profundity peeking through.
I would have liked to see this show anytime. Seeing it now was even more ... personal, though:
"Deep in December, it's nice to remember,
Without a hurt the heart is hollow.
Deep in December, it's nice to remember,
The fire of September that made us mellow.
Deep in December, our hearts should remember
And follow."
May be cynic by and by...."
Sometime in November 2001, Leon and I were reclining in my room at the 310, he alternating between pacing and lying on the floor with his feet propped on the door, I alternating between typing at my computer and turning, feet on the desk, to talk. We were doing what we always did in the 310 ... talking, exorcising the world's demons. It was overcast. It was mid-afternoon. I remember the setting quite well, because it was then and there that I heard one of the most profound and true and helpful things I have yet heard.
We were talking about life, and change, and other such standard, huge topics that can never be totally talked out. And then, unplanned, simply inspired, he started saying it, and within a couple of lines I had popped open a text editor and was racing to record it verbatim. I didn't take my fingers off the keyboard, and took my eyes off the screen only long enough to glance around every few seconds and see him pacing and tearing at the air with clenched fists, until I was sure he was finished.
"I feel like I'm getting to the point," he began, "where I know that I have encountered X, and I've encoutered it Y number of times, and I know how to deal with this situation in the most appropriate and efficient way.
"There's an element of unpredictablility I used to have where I didn't know quite what I was going to do, but it's slowly drifting away. It's like a deterministic clock that's quietly whispering to me, 'You've done this before and you're aware of the quickest and easiest solution.' And there's another part of me saying, 'Remember the magic, the uncertainty, the colors,' and slowly, the kind of biological-chemical machine is taking over it, and that's what growing up is.
"I can feel my body priming itself for efficiency. I feel like it's become more efficient with disregarding irrational notions, a healthier sleep cycle, a more balanced diet -- it's becoming more efficient with my head. It's my feelings that are becoming more efficient. 'Efficiency' is the key word. That's what growing up is. You learn how to become a more adept food provider, how to feed yourself easier, how to find sex easier, how to find all the animalistic, biological needs easier. And slowly, the machine in me is killing the randomness for the sake of mental efficiency."
Killing the randomness for the sake of mental efficiency. Quietly whispering to me, "You've done this before and you're aware of the quickest and easiest solution."
And damn if he wasn't right. It applies to being in relationships. It applies to employment. It applies to driving. It applies to coding. It applies to your morning routine. It even alters your metaconsciousness -- what you think about what you think about -- which things you ponder and fret about, and which things you simply shrug off: "Efficiency rule 738: Item X is not worthy of contemplation. It'll only get you upset and confused. Referents: Life situations 272, 8362, 9242. Suggested course of action: See if it's still a problem next week; think about it then. Primed for efficiency. Locked, cocked, ready to rock. c:\>." It affects everything.
It makes you more cynical, more tolerant, more aware of beauty and innocence, less sensitive to beauty and innocence; it gives you perspective "from a higher altitude"...
I begin to think the ages have given this phenomenon a name: that name is Wisdom.
* * *
K has been playing Luisa in a local production of The Fantasticks, which is, if what I read does not give lie, the longest-running musical ever. I can't say I'm surprised. I walked in knowing nothing of the musical, really going only to see K. But I was taken aback by it. Powerful, in an understated, uneasy, sober but self-consciously silly way. It reminds me stylistically of the Barenaked Ladies. Power rumbling beneath gaiety, and just enough profundity peeking through.
I would have liked to see this show anytime. Seeing it now was even more ... personal, though:
"Deep in December, it's nice to remember,
Without a hurt the heart is hollow.
Deep in December, it's nice to remember,
The fire of September that made us mellow.
Deep in December, our hearts should remember
And follow."