New Orleans Is Not Tokyo.
Mrs. King doesn't read the entries that compare New Orleans with someplace else in the title. It’s just you and me.
I am reading How to Destroy Western Civilization by Peter J. Kreeft. He uses the J. so that he isn’t confused with all the other Peter Kreefts you may have heard of in your lifetime.
I have never met a Kreeft in New Olreans or elsewhere, Peter or no.
The Two Logics is a book written by Henry Veatch, no middle initial required, in 1969. According to Kreeft, this book possesses the rarest of most important qualities any book of philosophy should have: it is interesting, it is rational, and it is right.
I likewise aspire to these qualities. How am I doing?
Let me put this book down.
Molly is here. She is not a librarian except in my head. When she showed up I was still reading the Wall Street Journal.
Raven said, “Your friend is here.” I looked up and saw it was Molly. “That’s Molly,” I said. Raven didn't know Molly’s name.
Riveting stuff. I know. Welcome to my world. I hate to write dialogue.
I explained to Raven why I like Molly.
I like Molly because she sits on her side of the bar and I sit on mine and, aside from cordial acknowledgment of each other’s presence, we don’t talk much. Molly is good company, like living in New England. We only talk when we have something to say to each other, which is rarely. Quality, not quantity. After I explained this Raven, she looked at me and said, “You are so weird.” Who am I to judge?
I found out that, until recently, someone who shall remain nameless used to keep a picture of me on her nightstand. Don’t ask me her name. She will kill me if she knows I told you. Not really. I am talking to her right now.
I know exactly the photo she is talking about. She took it. What a great day that was.
“Why did you remove it?” I asked. She had kept it on her nightstand for two months, apparently, ever since we took that photo. I just learned this today. I am leaving out some details. I hate to write dialogue.
This is what she said. She said, “I see so much of you every week that I don’t need to look at your picture before I go to sleep. You are already in my dreams. Did you know there is a sticker of you on the printer in the back office?” I did know that.
I live an odd life.
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I have decided to use three asterixi to separate an occasional interruption in the text, à-la Vonnegut. I don’t think those of you who pay for a subscription see it when I put up a paywall so that the free subscribers can’t see what we are talking about. Like wise, I don’t know if the free subscribers know that the paid subscribers are getting the good stuff.
The good stuff.
It’s all good. More of the same. Regular readers know I have little interest in plot. Today is another beautiful New Orleans day.
$7.00 a month. Chump change. Inflation. Today is interesting. Today is rational, Today is right.
I will see you tomorrow.
[Note to self, the paywall goes right here.]
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