"In 1820, for example, 70% of American workers were in agriculture; today 2% are. If all those workers had remained tilling the land, America would now be a lot poorer." (The Economist. "The Great Jobs Switch". Sept. 29th 2005).

I liked this point for the perspective that it gives to contemporary debates about the merits of outsourcing (I know that I've said I wouldn't use that word in this context, but I've succumbed to the force of popularity). Would the opponents of outsourcing really have us maintain the status quo indefinitely? Would they prefer that we all return to some sort idyllic community of farmers? Though there are certainly some who would answer in the affirmative to the latter question—and we have term for them, "hippies"—I'm quite happy to not be living in an agrarian society, dream as I might about someday owning a vineyard.

morning

Apparently, I wrote that last post today. Blogger clearly does not understand the proper meaning of night and day, of yesterday, today, and tomorrow. Days do not change until I've slept. I'm a little hungover this morning, but I've work to do so back to work I go.

evening

Someone came home crying this evening. I wasn't sure what to do. I do realise it till I heard them break out in sobs in their room. Sometimes, I just want to be alone and cry. Crying alone. And yet, I was tempedt to go and offer a should, or some bourbon.

Anyways, the person I though was crying just came down in her cute underwear and appeared not to have been crying, though I'm a little to drunk to tell from far away, especially without my glasses. We exchanged a few normal words, but I'm pretty sure it was her.

So now I'm outside. Listening to Honig on my ibook and typing this. Enjoting the cool evening air, without a care for my typos.

For the first time, I did lest than I was supposed to the paradox. oh my, was I tipsy. Counting one dollar bills has nevenr been so hard.

Jelly joe is on now so it's time to say goodnight to y'all. it's time to embrace the aching corner of my heart.

I hope you're well.

love ev

On Punctuation

"If you really want to hurt your parents, and you don’t have the nerve to be a homosexual, the least you can do is go into the arts. But do not use semicolons. They are transvestite hermaphrodites, standing for absolutely nothing. All they do is show you’ve been to college." - Kurt Vonnegut

Things to say when you're feeling miffed

"Go shake your ears"
(Maria to Malvolio in Twelfth Night)

To give it a little more ummphh, one might add a contempoarary edge, such as "go shake your fucking ears". Then, at least, it would be undeniably clear that it was meant as an insult, even if the recipient did not understand that you were calling them an ass (donkey).

"Pedicabo ego vos et irrumabo" from one of Catallus' "love poems"

variously translated as:

"Bugger off and get stuffed"

"I'll bugger you and fuck you in the mouth"

"I will assrape you and make you blow me"

Two of these translations are (I think) thanks two a couple of reedies over on a reed journal.

Be warned, the rest of the poem is rather homophobic. I pass it on only because it is in Latin, which, of course, makes it cool in a nerdy sort of way. Next time I will post some of Louise Labé's poetry.

On not working

I really don't feel like working. So instead I am writing this. The small window to my left, open just a crack because it doesn't open any more, lets in a faint cool breeze. The crisp evening air keeps me from nodding off, but the sounds of evening rush hour interrupt my thinking. Thinking hasn't been going too well today, though I don't mean that in an academic sense. I've already accomplished my most important task for the week. My thesis topic is now formulated as a question, "How does art manage to escape the metonymic contingencies of place and time and instead exist as a metaphoric unity?" Remember that this is art as represented in Proust's In Search of Lost Time, specifically in the first two books, Swann's Way and In the Shadow of Young Girls, and in the last book, Time refound (regained). Notice that my project has both expanded and become more specific (though I now have a question, I also have one more book to write about). I fear that this may become the pattern of my thesis. Moments of insight will be followed by flooding questions and uncertainties, and my feeling like I'm surrounded by an abyss of incommensurably expansive jest. Yes, a noun without a place, or an undeclined verb, things don't quite fit together, and yet they do in the reading.

My heart's been heavy today, but I see no reason for it to be so. This is why I said thinking wasn't going so well today. Reason has brought me no solace and I've no time for murky self-reflection. My sorrow hangs heavy in my chest and I've not found a cause to ground it.

In more cheerful news, I've developed rough ideas for a three volume magnum opus, but they shall remain secret until I've completed the first draft, or at least just for now.

A question for thought: Can protest be productive without an alternative in mind?

Afternoon thoughts

It's Sunday afternoon and I've just finished Jboard training. I'm about to head to the gym, but before doing so I thought I'd mention that y'all should really check out Yonderboi, and in particular his debut album "Shallow and Profound". I imagine that it was Jedd who introduced his music to me, probably when I was up in Vancouver in June, but I'd not given the album a thorough listen until yesterday. The title is disarmingly apt. Some tracks waffle along in superficial exchanges of electronic call and answer, creating enjoyable mood music and little else. However Yonderboi is at his best when he's slowed down, finding more complexity in his samples, and allowing himself the time to weave them together and play them off of each other. There are at least two outstanding tracks on the album, maybe three, and many others have the potential to develop with further listening. Really, the most interesting aspect of the music is how it successfully alternates between the shallow and profound, between the superficially entertaining, and the genuinely emotive.