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About The Kantaberry Tales

Philosophy Matters

It seems to me that Kant is regularly and unnecessarily picked on. Why? Why is it such sport to make fun of the man? Oh, and a story that I just love:

Kant kept setting himself on fire. As a result, his housekeeper would have to rush in and save him from a hot and painful death. Why? How? We ask. Kant lived in the time of candles to read by, having no electricity. In the evenings after dining, he would settle into his chair for the evening read. Often he would prepare himself for bed prior to settling in, including a night cap designed to keep out the cold.

He would often nod off, the tail of his night cap dangling dangerously close to a burning candle. Eventually the tassel on the end would catch fire, quickly spreading to the rest of his evening attire and him. His housekeeper, on the lookout for the not infrequent occurrence, would rush into the room and put out the fire—and Emanuel.

Apparently his philosophical ruminations did not include lessons learned and the remannering of self. Oh well, we all have blind spots.

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The Mystery Solved*

I have always considered myself a literature snob. Since high school at least, or the beginning of it at some place along the walk to St. Thomas Aquinas.

But my first love of books came in grade school, the days of long walks to the library and the selection of books from the Adult Section where I had special permission to go. My first loves were the combination of animals and books: Black Beauty, Lassie Come Home, The Black Stallion, anything by Terhune and Farley. That is how you learn the names of authors. Of course there were the Nancy Drew mysteries. Oh, and the My Friend Flicka set. I went to school with black bags under my eyes.

But then I graduated. I took up the things of the classics and the literary books. American literature, English literature. Hawthorne, Poe, Steinbeck… I even tried to read Emerson. That reading is different from the earlier things, of course. I learned to read and think, then read and think and write. (N.B. all over the place—such a pedant.) Now the books take some time to digest. It’s the stopping to think and consider. They aren’t the type of books to take to bed with you and have “one more page” until you’re up all night. Well, you might be, but not for the reading of it. I have a Berger that I’ve had for years and never finished, and still love.

Fast forward to now. Now and the power outage. The power outage at night meant candles and flashlights. I also had the good fortune to have a laptop easily chargeable by car battery. Reading by candlelight became tedious and annoying. Ergo, the laptop and Kindle. Somehow, from curiosity mostly, I ended up trying an Outlander book, by Diana Gabaldon.

And that’s how it began—again. The story…the plot; the plot…the story. Reading all night. I didn’t go to swimming all week. I did nothing online. I didn’t practice piano. I didn’t write. I just read. It’s hardly literary meat for the starving. But it’s damn good entertainment.

Do note this, the books are not trade paperback but mass market. These very long books (800 and over 1000 pages) are in very small print. I’m sticking with the ebooks. And I just ordered another: The Fiery Cross.

  • THE MYSTERY SOLVED: THERE IS NOTHING UNDER THOSE KILTS except perhaps a well-endowed Scotsman

outlander-onlinetumblrfanpop.comOutlander Season 2 2016wwikimedia

Photos are of Jamie, Jamie and Claire, and Scottish Highlands. Postings are in order from outlander-online, tumblr, fanpop, nwesiar, and wwikimedia.

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Thoughts At The Coffee Club

I might have to share Coffee Club moments as the power is still out in my neighborhood. I gave up waiting at home as the call for coffee became absolutely dangerous. And my electronics needed charging.

But, a purpose: John Berger was born in Hackney, London, England on this day in 1926.

“When we read a story, we inhabit it. The covers of the book are like a roof and four walls. What is to happen next will take place within the four walls of the story. And this is possible because the story’s voice makes everything its own.”― John Berger, Keeping a Rendezvous.       Happy Birthday Johnny!

johnberger

Meanwhile, I’m sharing an outlet with another boother as the place is packed. I wonder how we will manage when the power grid is completely shut down due to someone’s ideological insanity. (Is there any other kind?)

More & more I think the off-the-grid folks have the right idea. Although this is becoming like the bomb shelters of the 50s, isn’t it? If you didn’t have one you had to hope someone who knew & loved you would let you join them. My neighbors wouldn’t share theirs with me. They said they didn’t have enough room in it for anyone else. Jesus. An awful thing to happen to a little kid.

The Descending Scale

From a YouTube video, concerto attention by Classic fm.

This is how a Ludi (Beethoven) concerto should be played. Quite impressive. As an aside, but related: my take on her thin is that of course she is built that way—we have to know she doesn’t eat. There is no time left after all of the practicing. The pianist is Alice Sara Ott.

To check out the pièce de résistance, tune in to the time mark of 9″30. Enjoy!

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More On The Familiar

Meta-Pleasure

MarksOpenLettersMonthly

There’s a fine article written by Alex Sorondo on Open Letter Monthly; it’s worth a read.

“There’s a great delight to be found in THE Familiar for those who stick with it, and in the larger community experience that surrounds it.” Read the insightful review of TFv5 and TF Season One by Alex.”       www.openlettersmonthly.com/meta-pleasure

And, by the way, the series gives new meaning to “I can’t right now—too busy reading.”