another superhero has passed.

Edith Christine Mytty, 92 years old.
My Grams.
Sunday, September 21, 2008



[Previously here.]

What my dreams are made of.

I had a dream that I was in a white pill capsule-shaped elevator.

My room (not sure if it was my apartment or a hotel?) was on the 60th floor of a 90-story building.

This skyscraping building was covered in white -- inside and out.

The elevator had a gray interior with a few floor to ceiling length windows -- maybe a foot-wide each. It moved on the outside of the building, much like the temporary elevators at construction sites. It moved over a white sandy beach with the ocean stretched out just beyond it.

Every time the elevator was requested to a higher floor, it'd start at the highest of the requested floors; I think, in an attempt to maximize energy use. And for some srange reason, my hand was magnetized to the 90th floor and each time, I'd reach out and press the button for floor 90. Then, bump back down to the 60th floor.

I couldn't get off the elevator. I couldn't stop pressing the 90th floor button. The elevator moved so fast I felt I was floating like a poorer version of what astronauts experience on the moon. I hardly kept my feet on the ground.

When the elevator reached the top, it flipped over; a complete 180. And still I couldn't get off.

Kipling's words.

Of all the liars in the world, sometimes the worst are our own fears.

- Rudyard Kipling

A Whistling Chicken.

I'm in the kitchen with my roommate Katie. She's busy cooking up her chicken. I'm listening to my tea kettle whirring in the background.

The kettle whistles. With perfect comedic timing, Katie asks, "Is that my chicken? I thought he was dead already."

There's a comparison to humanity here.

Anyway, it seems to me that the way most people go on living (I suppose there are a few exceptions), they think that the world or life (or whatever) is this place where everything is (or is supposed to be) basically logical and consistent. Talking with my neighbors here often makes me think that. Like, when something happens, whether it's a big event that affects the whole society or something small and personal, people talk about it like, "Oh, well, of course that happened because such and such," and most of the time people will agree and say, like, "Oh, sure, I see," but I just don't get it. "A is like this, so that's why B happened." I mean that doesn't explain anything. It's like when you put instant rice pudding mix in a bowl in the microwave and push the button, and you take the cover off when it rings and there you've got rice pudding. I mean, what happens in between the time when you push the switch and when the microwave rings? You can't tell what's going on under the cover. You can't tell what's going on under the cover. Maybe the instant rice pudding first turns into macaroni gratin in the darkness when nobody's looking and only then turns back into rice pudding. We think it's only natural to get rice pudding after we put rice pudding mix in the microwave and the bell rings, but to me that's just a presumption.

* From page 461 of The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle.

Making usefulness whimisical.

* This is in Dresden. Love when people make the necessary everyday items seem a bit less everyday.