Wednesday, October 6
at 8:22 p.m.
This is a most terrible post. It would be much better for you to close this window than to have to read of the horrible things that I have to say. But, if you so wish, read on. You have been warned.
Yes, yes, I am still alive. And, I am feeling better now. Much thanks to all those who took the time to inquire.
Actually, this latest period of under-the-weatherness has confirmed a suspicion that I've never been able to dislodge from my mind. You see, during the summer, I never once fell ill. But since the school year began, I've have two very severe headaches, two most terrible headaches. But what does this mean? Simply that I am not allergy free as I once thought - I am allergic to school.
In other news, I read Lemony Snicket's The Bad Beginning - Book The First of the Series of Unfortunate Events that befell the Baudelaire children. It was indeed a most unfortunate tale.
How would I describe the writing of the elusive Mr. Snicket? It is most definitely children's lit, but with a cynical twist that will appeal to older audiences. Think Roald Dahl meets Douglas Adams but without the science fiction slant: that's Lemony Snicket.
An excerpt:
And, as I wrote, this is one of the songs that happened to grace my speakers:
The Sound of Silence
Simon & Garfunkel
Hello, darkness, my old friend
I've come to talk with you again
Because a vision softly creeping
Left its seeds while I was sleeping
And the vision
That was planted in my brain
Still remains
Within the sound of silence
In restless dreams I walked alone
Narrow streets of cobblestone
Beneath the halo of a street lamp
I turned my collar to the cold and damp
When my eyes were stabbed
By the flash of a neon light
That split the night
And touched the sound of silence
And in the naked light I saw
Ten thousand people, maybe more
People talking without speaking
People hearing without listening
People writing songs that voices never share
And no one dare
Disturb the sound of silence.
"Fools," said I, "you do not know
Silence like a cancer grows."
"Hear my words that I might teach you,
Take my arms that I might reach you."
But my words like silent raindrops fell
And echoed in the wells of silence
And the people bowed and prayed
To the neon god they made
And the sign flashed out its warning
In the words that it was forming
And the signs said: "The words of the prophets
Are written on the subway walls
And tenement halls,
And whisper'd in the sound of silence."
For those who haven't heard, Lemony Snicket’s A Series of Unfortunate Events will be in theatres this December.
Yes, yes, I am still alive. And, I am feeling better now. Much thanks to all those who took the time to inquire.
Actually, this latest period of under-the-weatherness has confirmed a suspicion that I've never been able to dislodge from my mind. You see, during the summer, I never once fell ill. But since the school year began, I've have two very severe headaches, two most terrible headaches. But what does this mean? Simply that I am not allergy free as I once thought - I am allergic to school.
In other news, I read Lemony Snicket's The Bad Beginning - Book The First of the Series of Unfortunate Events that befell the Baudelaire children. It was indeed a most unfortunate tale.
How would I describe the writing of the elusive Mr. Snicket? It is most definitely children's lit, but with a cynical twist that will appeal to older audiences. Think Roald Dahl meets Douglas Adams but without the science fiction slant: that's Lemony Snicket.
An excerpt:
If you are interested in stories with happy endings, you would be better off reading some other book. In this book, not only is there no happy ending, there is no happy beginning and very few happy things in the middle. This is because not very many happy things happened in the lives of the three Baudelaire youngsters. Violet, Klaus, and Sunny Baudelaire were intelligent children, and they were charming, and resourceful, and had pleasant facial features, but they were extremely unlucky, and most everything that happened to them was rife with misfortune, misery, and despair. I'm sorry to tell you this, but that is how the story goes.
And, as I wrote, this is one of the songs that happened to grace my speakers:
The Sound of Silence
Simon & Garfunkel
Hello, darkness, my old friend
I've come to talk with you again
Because a vision softly creeping
Left its seeds while I was sleeping
And the vision
That was planted in my brain
Still remains
Within the sound of silence
In restless dreams I walked alone
Narrow streets of cobblestone
Beneath the halo of a street lamp
I turned my collar to the cold and damp
When my eyes were stabbed
By the flash of a neon light
That split the night
And touched the sound of silence
And in the naked light I saw
Ten thousand people, maybe more
People talking without speaking
People hearing without listening
People writing songs that voices never share
And no one dare
Disturb the sound of silence.
"Fools," said I, "you do not know
Silence like a cancer grows."
"Hear my words that I might teach you,
Take my arms that I might reach you."
But my words like silent raindrops fell
And echoed in the wells of silence
And the people bowed and prayed
To the neon god they made
And the sign flashed out its warning
In the words that it was forming
And the signs said: "The words of the prophets
Are written on the subway walls
And tenement halls,
And whisper'd in the sound of silence."
For those who haven't heard, Lemony Snicket’s A Series of Unfortunate Events will be in theatres this December.
