Be Afraid . . .

Be Very Kinda Sorta Afraid

Saturn Devouring His Son  (Goya)

 

The Very Thought of You?

"It's not you, it's the idea of you."

It's been said to me, and judging by it's appearance in pop culture, I'm guessing there is a good chance it's been said to (or by) you as well.  In my case, it was used to cushion a hit, probably to avoid an argument. It was offered as conciliatory, to say this breakup has nothing to do with me, per se, but some conceptual framework I was violating.

In some ways, I get it.  I represented a line to a past that wanted, even needed to be severed.  I was holding someone back.  And given my critical, even argumentative posture at the time, fueled with a certain clinginess, I can understand wanting to avoid setting off those mines.  But at the same time, I was extremely unsatisfyed by the "explanation."  It seemed avoidant, of more than just a confrontation with me.  Sometimes I wonder if she really knew why she ended the relationship, if the deeper reasons were hidden,  and "dangerous" to her.

I wonder if I will ever have a satisfying understanding of what went down, if I will ever know what was going through her head, and what "really happened."  And I wonder if those eight words ever tell the most important part of the story, or are satisfying, because even if it is the "idea of you", there is still the rest of you.

And the Winner Was . . .

The winner of the Librarius Interruptus Awards can now be named:  The Clarence Dillon Library, in Bedminster. 

My decision to never step foot in there again started with a guy talking to himself, incessantly.  He was distracting me, and I told him so, to which he responded "get used to it, I paid to use the equipment."  I refrained from debating exactly how one purchases the "right" to prevent other taxpayers from using the equipment. 

Instead, I took my case to a staff member, and somehow found myself in the director's office.  I explained the situation to him, and was shot down thusly:  "This is not a 'hush library.'"  In my mind, this is roughly like a hospital being described as "not a sanitized hospital." 

Mr. Director offered no precise formulation of his noise policy.  Instead, he "explained" that talking on cell phones and full-voice conversations are not allowed.  Apparently he doesn't spend much time in his own library.  And since someone too stupid to do his taxes without talking to himself trumps my desire to concentrate, deterring other patrons' use of the library is not strictly forbidden.

A "non-hush library" accomplishes what, exactly?          

This is Not an Idea

("Merci" to Mr. Magritte.)