|Love that glowing spot that looks like lava: those slow-flowing crackly black parts with the red showing through|
“Each new generation born is in effect an invasion of civilization by little barbarians, who must be civilized before it is too late.”I mean, first of all: yes! Barbarians, every last one of them! Where they get the ideas to do some of the things they do, I am at a loss to explain! But more seriously, these talks get at the problem of how to go about bringing up our children in light and truth: this one, and this one. Both very good.
• I learned that, by the way, while listening to my favorite audiobook series of all time: P.G. Wodehouse's Jeeves books read by Jonathan Cecil. (You really can't go wrong, but this is an excellent one, as is this.) Jonathan Cecil said "re-MUN-eration" very clearly in his lovely accent, and I thought, "Wait, he said that wrong—but Jonathan Cecil cannot be wrong!" So I looked it up and he was right, of course. Anyway, if you haven't read these books, you owe it to yourself to remedy that. They're among the funniest stories of all time. And having them read TO you, in a variety of impeccable British accents, is a pleasure not often paralleled in this fallen world of ours. Sam and I like to take them on long car trips and guffaw our way through the hours.
• I may have mentioned before how much I dislike writing in a conventional journal. It's not the cataloguing of daily life I object to; it's how I do it that I hate. (It's one reason I started this blog, in fact: when I have even the possibility of a real audience, I am forced to confront my own lazy, sappy, sloppy writing and see it for what it is. And eliminate some of it, hopefully.) (While I'm off on parenthetical asides, I'll also mention that this 5-year journal has worked well for me too. No room for sentiment!) At any rate, this blog post captured my own feelings perfectly:
"This should be the year I scan all my old diaries from college and throw out most of them. I wince when I read them, for every possible reason. The writing. The concerns. The politics. The well-ordered and endless parade of delusions. How you can lie to yourself in your own diaries is a subject for study; surely I’m not the only one. This is what I should feel, therefore I’m going to say I feel it.Yes! It's depressing. And a good reminder that even if you have what historians consider a good "primary source" document (someone's journal, a letter, etc) you have nothing like the whole story. I can't even correctly record, let alone explain, my own feelings sometimes! And that's assuming I'm not misrepresenting them, knowingly or unknowingly, for some reason.