The There There Letter: Enervation, Entropy, and Élevage
Three things from DAH.
DAH is just me, David Anthony Hance. I wonder. A lot.
First up this week, Enervation …
Nothing really matters. Any way the wind blows (apologies to Freddie Mercury). I'm hoping a cooling wind (not too strong, so maybe a breeze) will blow. We're in pandemic recovery, maybe, and it's summer, certainly, and it's hot. Inspiration resists summons. So, now we enervate, a weakened state. Lazing in summer's languor, I know I ought to get off my ass and do something useful … but do I really know so? Or is it just some conspiritual relic of being raised capitalist in California? I'll lounge a little longer and ponder.
Why Summer Makes Us Lazy
Second up this week, Entropy …
"Entropy is the general trend of the universe toward death and disorder" (James Roy Newman, an entropized 20th Century mathematician). Seriously? Is that where all this enervation leads? Sure, I know the sun is dying, but that cold day is billions of years away. And, yes, in mere human matters, it often seems things are going from bad to worse. But I'm not ready to accept an entropic fate. I must have a good few years left to fuss with all of life's lovely complications.
Entropy: Why Life Always Seems to Get More Complicated
Third up this week, Élevage …
It's a French word for raising a wine, making a wine, from grape to glass. It sounds like elevating, as if we're raising one thing up to become something better. True to my language appropriation habit, I like élevage as my (our) process to raise up anything, not just wine. From these summer doldrums, it's high time to practice a little self-élevage. So, to raise us all up, here's the #1 song to do just that (so says The 10 Most Uplifting Songs in the World, According to Science). Raise yourself up. Reject enervation and entropy. "Rage, rage against the dying of the light" (wrote Dylan Thomas, despite summer evenings being cooler) and turn up the volume.
Don't Stop Me Now (I'm Having Such A Good Time)
And a bit more, because it's been very hot here (thirst-stricken air indeed):
Summer Silence
by E. E. Cummings
Eruptive lightnings flutter to and fro
Above the heights of immemorial hills;
Thirst-stricken air, dumb-throated, in its woe
Limply down-sagging, its limp body spills
Upon the earth. A panting silence fills
The empty vault of Night with shimmering bars
Of sullen silver, where the lake distils
Its misered bounty.—Hark! No whisper mars
The utter silence of the untranslated stars.
And that's all for this week.
From Mary Oliver’s poem Sometimes …
DAH is just me, David Anthony Hance. I wonder. A lot.
First up this week, Enervation …
Nothing really matters. Any way the wind blows (apologies to Freddie Mercury). I'm hoping a cooling wind (not too strong, so maybe a breeze) will blow. We're in pandemic recovery, maybe, and it's summer, certainly, and it's hot. Inspiration resists summons. So, now we enervate, a weakened state. Lazing in summer's languor, I know I ought to get off my ass and do something useful … but do I really know so? Or is it just some conspiritual relic of being raised capitalist in California? I'll lounge a little longer and ponder.
Why Summer Makes Us Lazy
Second up this week, Entropy …
"Entropy is the general trend of the universe toward death and disorder" (James Roy Newman, an entropized 20th Century mathematician). Seriously? Is that where all this enervation leads? Sure, I know the sun is dying, but that cold day is billions of years away. And, yes, in mere human matters, it often seems things are going from bad to worse. But I'm not ready to accept an entropic fate. I must have a good few years left to fuss with all of life's lovely complications.
Entropy: Why Life Always Seems to Get More Complicated
Third up this week, Élevage …
It's a French word for raising a wine, making a wine, from grape to glass. It sounds like elevating, as if we're raising one thing up to become something better. True to my language appropriation habit, I like élevage as my (our) process to raise up anything, not just wine. From these summer doldrums, it's high time to practice a little self-élevage. So, to raise us all up, here's the #1 song to do just that (so says The 10 Most Uplifting Songs in the World, According to Science). Raise yourself up. Reject enervation and entropy. "Rage, rage against the dying of the light" (wrote Dylan Thomas, despite summer evenings being cooler) and turn up the volume.
Don't Stop Me Now (I'm Having Such A Good Time)
And a bit more, because it's been very hot here (thirst-stricken air indeed):
Summer Silence
by E. E. Cummings
Eruptive lightnings flutter to and fro
Above the heights of immemorial hills;
Thirst-stricken air, dumb-throated, in its woe
Limply down-sagging, its limp body spills
Upon the earth. A panting silence fills
The empty vault of Night with shimmering bars
Of sullen silver, where the lake distils
Its misered bounty.—Hark! No whisper mars
The utter silence of the untranslated stars.
And that's all for this week.
From Mary Oliver’s poem Sometimes …
Instructions for living a life:
Pay attention.
Be astonished.
Tell about it.
Pay attention.
Be astonished.
Tell about it.
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