Dialectical Dialogues XXXI - XXXIII

XXXI
(At Hospital.  P.A. System announces "Code: Blue in Emergency Department.")
Me:  Somebody's day just went to shit.
Camus's Stranger:  Man, that's not even funny.
Me:  Wasn't trying to be...

XXXII
Sherlock Holmes:  What happened to your eye?
Groucho Marx:  My daughter poked it really hard.
Holmes:  That sucks.
Marx:  Nah, it just fulfills the axiom in my life that every female that I know will eventually hurt me.
Holmes:  You're such a drama queen.

XXXIII
Electra:  The least he could have done was text me on my birthday.
Eugene O'Neill:   Why do you even care?
Electra:  I don't...
O'Neill:  Then why are we talking about this?
Electra:  Because it would have been a nice gesture to show that I'm a blip in his life.
O'Neill:  The sooner you realize that you're nothing to him, the better for all of us.

XXXIV
Apollo:  I can't help but hate myself for having feelings for you.
Σελήνη: ...the sooner you forgive yourself, the easier it will be to forget me.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Prequel to Prisoner Review

This is a confession of sorts. My daughter Helene loves Ice Age. She watches it repeatedly, ad infinitum, without any indication of ever tiring. All of this is fine, a whim that most parents indulge, but the problem is that she hasn't really seen Ice Age...well, not completely. What she has seen is our abridged, edited version. If you're familiar with the movie, there is a scene where the saber-toothed tigers attack the village, and the mother flees with the baby, eventually sacrificing herself for the baby. This scene, which is a critical plot point that illuminates one of the main characters, is conveniently, repeatedly, ad infinitum, without hesitation omitted. As parents, we have decided that it is too much, that she doesn't need to know yet that parents can, and eventually will, die. So whenever we get to that scene, we skip to a more appropriate part. I could easily hide behind the shield of trying to be a good father, one that protects his child from the h...
Read more

Migrations

Transmigrating Dream - July 18, 2008 ...you pray for rain...I pray for blindness "We are things made of wonder." Night:   In the beginning, there was water, lots of it.   Rushing in over fences, through windows.  Water penetrating as only water does, and the whole time I can't save anyone.  I strategize, first to go high, top floor if possible...it doesn't help.  The sea rises, the wave crests, and we're all washed away.   The second time I tell them to head for the vault, which is waterproof.  This time we feel the water hit, but instead of a mad rush, this time the water trickles in through the cracks, slowly filling the room.   The last time doesn't make sense, I'm on a trolley that is acting as a boat; I can tell from the rocking side to side.  There's only one other person in it. She holds out her hand, and I am offered a choice. Day:   In the bookstore I'm trying to keep up with Helene,...
Read more

Rumination at Year's End

[Note:  Something I drafted 12/31/2011 but forgot to post up.] I was going to write something about how the highlights of 2011 really gave me new perspective on life and my place in the world, how they taught me that at my age I was still capable of change, and how joy and happiness could still find new places to take root...and conversely about how the low points of 2011 had the potential of etching a shadow on my days to come, a shadow that I'm not sure I'd ever be able to cast a light on. ...but I wanted to avoid the sentimental, so I thought I'd try to write something punny, with airy alliteration, like "titular trappings tend towards troublesome times" or "linear lunacy lends life limited longevity"... ...but I didn't want to sound too frivolous, so I went with something more stoic, something to do the old gods of the North right: "In this last year, my head didn't end up on the tip of a spear, and my heart didn't end up n...
Read more