tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20119470.post6108037925559829943..comments2023-08-20T15:59:58.293+05:00Comments on Dope City Free Press: On the Contents of A Winter Coat's Pockets Unworn in Ten Months.Mr. Beer N. Hockeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07184518909716677938noreply@blogger.comBlogger6125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20119470.post-74984581298427121552016-12-13T20:41:15.112+05:002016-12-13T20:41:15.112+05:00Small doses, Beer, small doses. Voltaire had the r...Small doses, Beer, small doses. Voltaire had the razor wit, but didn't always see the broader picture, writing off the French North American adventure as a few hectares of snow. But the chapter in Candide about the opening shots of the war between the Bulgars and the Abares is typical of the incisive and acerbic comment he produced. Proust has fabulous insights, mostly about personal discovery, but the prose is dense: I recall reading a sentence that went on for several pages, a difficult phenomenon for those of us with sometimes challenged attention spans. His most famous passage is about being transported back into the past on the strength of an olfactory recollection, to the power of which I can personally attest. Working in a fish camp in Chapple Inlet in 1972, June 15 was the first day for coho opening, and as the first coho came down the grading table, I got a whiff of it and was immediately transported to a fish market in Sausalito, California at an age when I could only look up at the refrigerator case, and my conscious mind made the connection that the salmon the Maggie had bought back in the mid-50s was a coho. Same for Proust's recounting the emotional stirrings brought on by a hearing of a Vinteuil sonata, but then, most of know the emotional havoc that can be wrought by hearing a musical selection linked to events of personal emotional importance. By the way, France is as messed up as the US, Italy, Greece... we're not far behind the pack, but at least there are motherfuckin'' voices of twistedness to hold the beacon.Danneauhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/16129916194006552602noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20119470.post-71787025068968918492016-12-13T07:17:40.948+05:002016-12-13T07:17:40.948+05:00Voltaire, who wrote little on forestry, sawmill ec...Voltaire, who wrote little on forestry, sawmill economics, or raw log exports is read sparsely by sawmill workers such as I. I have, however, resolved to read both Voltaire and Proust in the New Year, should I live that long. Mr. Beer N. Hockeyhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/07184518909716677938noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20119470.post-15026993025207896082016-12-12T21:30:55.232+05:002016-12-12T21:30:55.232+05:00No, but there are some goodies out there, includin...No, but there are some goodies out there, including a lovely spoof of Sartre that appeared a couple of decades ago in the Utne Reader (not sure what the true origin is.<br /><br />http://pvspade.com/Sartre/cookbook.html<br /><br />This fits well with the current state of affairs.Danneauhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/16129916194006552602noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20119470.post-82697644907563352912016-12-12T21:19:19.401+05:002016-12-12T21:19:19.401+05:00Hmmmm.....a modern day Voltaire?....hmmmmHmmmm.....a modern day Voltaire?....hmmmmLenin's Ghostnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20119470.post-36472558621761156732016-12-12T09:17:21.899+05:002016-12-12T09:17:21.899+05:00Did you just translate that from the opening line ...Did you just translate that from the opening line of an obscure French spiritual text?Mr. Beer N. Hockeyhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/07184518909716677938noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20119470.post-75904307907080680602016-12-11T22:33:22.302+05:002016-12-11T22:33:22.302+05:00Been reading Proust again?Been reading Proust again?Danneauhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/16129916194006552602noreply@blogger.com