Wecome To The Machine

Recently got hold of a cheapo cheapo 4 CD set of albums by Jethro Tull from the 80's. Found one of the set, Under Wraps, entirely, bleakly unlistenable. Surely someone somewhere should be prosecuted for the damage inflicted by drum machines. And how was it that some highly talented musicians seemed to think they were a good idea?

Hard Going

I made reference to my reading of Sir Thomas Malory's Le Morte D'Arthur back in December, and not in any terribly enthusiastic way. I've now finished Book 7, and am approaching the end of the first volume in the two volume Penguin edition, and I can't honestly say I feel any more enthusiastic now. Time was when I would have abandoned a reading that's proved so unrewarding, but in my dotage I somehow feel obliged to actually read from cover to cover works that I've embarked on. I suppose this has something to do with trying to do justice to the work or writer rather than taking the easy way out, but I'm sorely tempted to give up on matters Arthurian.
 
The problem is that, as far as I can tell, Malory is all surface. His characters don't have character. They simply do stuff, much of it violent, for no particular reason other than because that's what they're in the stories to do. So what you get is a lot of baldly narrated action, often repetitive in nature, to no obvious end. A bit like an Avengers movie in which lots of sort of impossibly heroic stuff is going on for no good rhyme or reason.
 
Admittedly, there is a certain pleasure to be gained at the level of style, if you like that sort of thing (and I do.) The convoluted syntax has a kind of poetry all of its own. Take the opening sentence of Book 8, the bit I'm up to: It was a king that hight Meliodas, and he was lord and king of the country of Liones, and this Meliodas was a likely knight as any that was living. There's something hypnotically rhythmic going on here and phrases like a likely knight have a kind of charm about them. But I'm wondering whether I couldn't just enjoy this in small doses. Page after page becomes somewhat wearing. Also the edition I'm reading employs modernised spelling and some alteration of archaic forms. It's a lot easier to read than the original, but some of the stylistic charm is lost.

Anyway, I've had my moan, so it's back to the book. I just remembered that I paid nearly fifty dollars for the two paperbacks way back when and I'm going to get my money's worth, even if it's not worth it.

In Recovery

Still trying to deal with what feels like a strained muscle in my back. I thought all was well by Saturday, but struggled on Sunday morning and throughout the day. In these circumstances my world view is reduced to just getting through the day, doing the necessary - an even more selfish attitude than usual, I'm ashamed to say.

It reminds me of how astonishing those folk are who deal with real disability on a daily basis and somehow rise above it to do more than simply cope. Real heroes.

The Best Of Times

A gently uneventful day on a gently uneventful weekend in our tiny corner of the world. How deeply fortunate we are.

Looking Up

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Spent quite a bit of time in Istanbul gazing heavenwards. Definitely worth doing so for the many glorious views.

Something Positive

Visited Osman in NUH this evening. He's been in hospital since coming back from his umrah, and we've been intending to see him since we got back from Istanbul, but since we've both had lingering colds we haven't been able to. He's so vulnerable to infection that it wasn't worth the risk.

It was a relief to finally get to see him, especially to see him in amazingly high spirits, considering the gravity of his condition. He twice asked for my prayers, but really didn't need to since he's in them all the time.

More Stupidity

Reading the latest revelations regarding various conflicts and characters at the heart of American government, as practised over the last year or so, is entertaining, depressing, distressing and amusing in roughly equal measures. It's also dangerously addictive. I really must look for better ways to waste my time.

Stupid Stuff

Spent a few minutes today recalling some of the stupid things I've done in my life. Found myself acutely embarrassed, and felt a lot more forgiving of others doing equally stupid things. It's a salutary exercise, perhaps one that should be repeated at least once a day. Helps you keep a sense of proportion and ensures you'll never believe your own publicity. I recommend it.

(And, no, I'm not going to confess to the exact nature of any of the stupidities. It's just way too embarrassing to even think of doing so.)

Healing

One good thing about being ill is the pleasure of recovering and being reminded of wonderful it is to be fully functioning and healthy. But the sad truth is that we can't take recovery for granted - and as the years pass the certainty that we'll somehow be able to mend becomes increasingly and worryingly compromised.

I experienced a striking example of that uncertainty in the early hours of the morning. I'd gone to bed thinking that my back was on the mend. The doctor had given me one those magic injections of muscle relaxant yesterday and also a decent supply of painkillers, with which I'd dosed myself after a reasonably pain-free journey from Malaysia. So when I got out of bed to use the bathroom at 2.00 am I didn't expect the debilitating pain which assaulted me as I attempted to straighten up. I managed to keep moving, but came close to collapsing with the effort, which made me restless for the rest of the night as I wondered if things might get worse and whether I'd be able to get up at all in the morning. Frankly, I wasn't looking forward to feeling a pain of that magnitude again.

In the event whilst I didn't exactly spring out of bed when the time came, and I struggled with the effort of praying, showering and generally preparing for the day ahead, I quickly knew that I'd be able to cope with keeping moving. As the day went by things got a little bit easier and I'm now officially feeling a whole lot better than I was this morning. The question now is whether this gradual improvement is set to continue. I'm hopeful, which, when you get down to it, is all you really can be whatever the circumstances. And I'm grateful for the possibility that I might just get better.

Challenges Ahead

14.15
Sleepless night. Severe back pain.

It's good to face challenges in the new year, but this one I would rather have avoided.

21.00
Made it back to our usual Far Place, though the journey was uncomfortable to say the least. The Missus emerged as the Star of the day, as is so often the case, getting me to the doctor's for some much-needed pain-killers and driving back from Melaka with aplomb. Fortunately there wasn't much of a New Year jam.

Though any experience of severe discomfort amounting to pain is to be avoided, this one has provided fuel for a resolution for the year ahead: When the bad times come, keep a sense of proportion, and remember all the good ones.