Bookhag
This article is about a South African anthropologist, Christopher Henshilwood, who found evidence of humans practicing symbolic thought earlier than most scholars thought possible. His biggest critic, Richard Klein, states, "there are a lot of other sites where we would have expected to find this already, and we haven't. If you look at Europe at the same time, there are things that are just as spectacular [as Blombos] but are just as isolated, so we tend to ignore them." I don't know what exactly this recent find means, but I'm struck by how Klein determines significance in terms of numbers. It isn't important unless a lot of creatures are doing the same thing. Mass culture. I'm having a hard time saying what I mean-- What I mean, I think, is that suppose there was some human being tens of thousands of years ago, and they felt a need to express themselves symbolically when no one else could or did. How lonely. To be the earliest. The beginning of the line. And it seems sort of a testament of faith, somehow, to go ahead and make those marks, isolated and not comprehending why or for who or what it means personally or otherwise. Art for art's sake in the earliest incarnation.
10:51 a.m. on Monday, June 3, 2002
Digging for Roots of Our Culture
I will be 40 tomorrow. Forty. And I'm writing on a blog. I am really all messed up on how to act when one is 40. Or 39, or 25... I don't want to be a Hulk Hogan has-been who keeps coming pathetically out of retirement, but I also don't want to be a sweater-knitting, chair-rocking grandma yet. I'm visiting a homeopath tomorrow, hopefully so she can give me a few drops of this and a little of that and I can feel all happy and new again. Eric's wife swears by homeopathy, and Eric says, "Homeopathy works even if you don't think it will." That's a good enough recommendation for me. I think I hope he's right. But if he is, then I might actually have to do something about my life since I'll have no excuses anymore. ugh. I am woefully behind on my correspondence. I have 4 friends I need to write. Make that 5. My co-worker keeps bringing me stuff to proofread/edit, and then when I suggest changes, she leaves everything exactly as it is. So does she really want someone to proof her work or just do a "yes ma'am" sort of thing? And why do I naively take requests at face value? Wouldn't it behoove me to ask myself what I think these people are REALLY after? Or would that be paranoia? Do other people wander around asking themselves questions to drive themselves nuts or is it just me? If I asked that question of myself, I'd reply, "It's just you!" Or me, I mean. So as I was saying, it's my birthday tomorrow. I want a piece of coconut cream pie instead of a birthday cake. I asked for that last year, but my SO (Significant Other) didn't pay enough attention and bought me a piece of lemon meringue instead. If someone asked me, "What is the one pie in the entire world you would never, ever eat?" I would answer, "Lemon meringue pie." Passive-aggressive or stupid? You be the judge. Besides the pie, I asked for a CD by a group called, "Five for Fighting." I don't know much about them. I heard a brief song clip and thought it sounded sort of uncomplicated. I also want to go see the new Star Wars movie with my kids. That's it. Oh-- I guess I'd also like to ask for world peace. Time for a hike to the student center for coffee. My wits are failing me.
09:43 a.m. on Wednesday, May 29, 2002
The trick to avoiding guilt, it seems to me, is to not get close enough to people to empathize with their freakiness. After my co-worker's spaz-out yesterday, I promptly spiffed up my resume and cover letter. No way did I want to hang out here any longer. Today, however, I find out she has REASONS for her freak outs. Good reasons. Solid ones to which I can relate. (I'd rather say, "Solid ones I can relate to," but I'm told that's W-R-O-N-G) So now she's not a whacko I want to run away from. She's a nice lady just doing the best she can, warts and all, which is the only thing any of us can do. Oh, I'm still running out on her if I can, but now I feel BAD about it. What I wonder, though, is if maybe I want to run screaming into that good night because these freaky, high-strung people are mirrors of me and I just can't stand looking at my freak-ass self that closely and honestly. But then I decide that's just waaay too much introspection for one day, and I run off and buy myself a double latte.
02:59 p.m. on Tuesday, May 21, 2002
03:55 p.m. on Friday, May 17, 2002
Deep in conversation with Meredith about crap and insights. Or crappy insights. I read that Flannery O'Connor said she lived in mortal fear that someone would take her advice and then she'd have to feel responsible for what she said. I hope no one ever listens to me.
