Futile Horn

08.29.2003 - 2:45 pm (waiting for you to appear)

My cowardly anonymous critic has left me another note, which would have been of no interest of any kind, but I checked the sitemeter, and this person seems to read this diary about twice a day even though I only update, say, twice a week. So whereas I would have assumed that the statement “We love hearing you boast about how intellectual and profound you are,” was loaded with irony, it would appear this is actually true. Life is funny sometimes.

My sister came back from the Water Gap last night. She had left a pair of her boots in the middle of the floor, and I told her she could sell them at the “Gap” Gap (you know, the Missy E and M Gap), because for some reason everything they sell this year needs to look filthy and decidedly broken-in. She informs me that the boots are only two weeks old. They look like they’ve seen a whole season of punishment. Over breakfast this morning she told me how this summer how she broke two field techs. “Everyone was telling me, you’ve already broken one field tech; if you break this one, we’re not getting you another one.” Well, she broke him. She also broke the hydrologist. There is no one to check the water supplies on the entire east coast. Why? Because my sister broke him.

My sister is an ecologist. She’s really intelligent too. The only two children of an immigrant worker and we’re both really bright. Man, that must burn some asses.

I wasn’t going to talk about Greek, but now that I know I have an audience for it, I might as well go ahead. I’ve been reading Plato’s Apology, because I got it from a really cool used book store in the East Village right down the block from a totally kick ass coffee shop. N E way, “apology” might confuse some, because Socrates isn’t sorry for anything. It’s a legal term. In the Athenian law courts, first the prosecution makes its argument, or logos (just a word for ‘speech’ really), and then the defense makes its counter argument, or apologia. (Are there enough unnecessary details, or would you like more next time?)

Wait, what was the point of all this? Oh right. So when Maegan was here, she brought some underground magazine article with a title something like “All Poetry is Junk. Really.” This is interesting to me because I feel more or less the same way, and so does Plato (and Socrates, I’m guessing), and he lived in a time where some poetry was actually good. Plato’s take is that poets are possessed, just like religious fanatics, and that they don’t actually know anything. It makes a bit of sense because for Plato, if a person has any kind of skill they can explain it in words, and who has heard of a poet who can tell you how to write a poem? If anything, you’d probably be more confused than if you hadn’t heard them say anything.

Of course, Plato wrote poetry himself, and I am a songwriter.

The working title of the new song is “Good Morning Milkman (Welcome to the Dark Age).” I wasn’t sure what it was going to be about, but I think I am going to feed it my wrath over the Ten Commandments controversy in Alabama (don’t worry, I can make it palatable). It’s good that the monument has been moved, but I am alarmed by how much support it has gotten not only from the public but even news stations like CNN. It is state sponsorship of religion, nothing less. I’ve already gotten into an argument about it today, but it’s wrong, it’s against our principles, and it could even be dangerous.

Hey, I know, I think I’ll rent some snooty foreign films tonight.

Born to play the funky céilí,
Futile Horn