February 25th, 2003

abstract butterfly

coated with sleet

The sleet began yesterday afternoon, a steady, gentle pelt. By the time last evening my partner and I left our offices, the little parking lot was quite icy. I took Jupiter, a well-travelled non-freeway road, and was fine until Jupiter intersected with Spring Creek. Then things went all bumper to bumper and I had to switch over to Greenville. This morning I arose in the pre-dawn to figure out if my nine a.m. court hearing has been cancelled. The court's website, though, merely says to call the judge's courtroom deputy. I'm not sure the courtroom deputy will be at her station at 6:45 a.m., passing on weather conditions, so I may have to begin the icy drive down,
only to arrive and perhaps learn that it's all closed, anyway. This is a very busy week for me, so the weather is a real nuisance. I cannot believe it was seventy degrees Saturday, and is 20 degrees now. Our Texas winters always work this way.
abstract butterfly

pedestals built narrow and high

This morning I awoke far too early, ostensibly because I needed to check out the "closures" report, but also because a touch of insomnia set in. Already I am exhausted,because for some reason I spent almost all Saturday night creating this new gurdondark, posting to which has already reminded me how banal any confessional work can be.

I tried to draft a long LJ post in which I pulled together concepts from Frank Herbert's Dune, the Babel myth, the rise of 19th Century Christian fundamentalism, the Wahab movement in Islam, and inessential personal essence of God, but, one screen derived from endless words about confusion of languages, "I must not fear. Fear is the mindkiller", the single way of escape afforded by the Bene Tleilaxu, the 20th Century Marxist philosopher Bloch's idea of the necessity of the concept of God, and the problem of Herbert's notion of the kwisatz haderach, the destined created messiah who seems to show the way out, but in fact is trapped by fate. I had some vague notion of speaking of the problems of hero worship generally. I might have even thrown in a Watchman reference or two, if I could have kept my momentum up.

But I looked at the several sentences, and I used the delete button assiduously, and I wrote about the sleet.
For an instant, I saw my idea, like some distant, unfamiliar city on a hill, but not every city on every hill is worth visiting, so I pulled the city down.
I will rebuild it someday.

Then I drove 90 minutes through the sleet to get to downtown Dallas, where, sure enough, my hearing had been cancelled. Then I drove 50 minutes through the sleet to my office, where I got many things done. Then I drove 70 minutes through the sleet back home, where the thermometer confirms I have a temperature of 100.9 degrees.

Tomorrow I have many things to do, and I don't feel like doing any of them. But a good night's sleep, free of insomnia and the kwisatz haderach, will do wonders.