Hello and good morning, everyone.
It’s not only Thursday—and thus time for my “weekly” blog post, which goes back to when I was writing this blog only one day of the week and working on fiction every other morning. It’s also the first day of June in 2023 (and thus, inescapably, also the first Thursday of June). So, we begin a new month.
Before the end of this month, we will have the Solstice—the summer one in the northern hemisphere and the winter one in the southern hemisphere. After that, officially, the season either of summer or of winter will begin, and the days, having reached either a maximum or minimum of the sine curve of their “daylight” length, will begin to head in the other direction.
Of course, the change will be very gradual at first, since the derivative of a sine curve—its rate of change—is a cosine curve, and where a sine is either at a maximum or a minimum, the cosine is at zero, albeit only instantaneously. It’s at the equinox that the rate of change hits a maximum (or, technically it could also be a minimum, but when we’re discussing absolute rates of change, a minimum and a maximum are interchangeable, |x| being a positive number at any time, and all). Anyway, that’s enough of that minimal review of the rates of change of seasons and the nature of sine curves and cosine curves.
Sines and cosines are well-behaved curves, at least. Tangents and secants and so on are not so well-behaved, at least if by “well-behaved” you mean, “staying between a specified range of the y-axis instead of tending towards infinity in multiple places on that axis”. Of course, a sine or cosine do go to infinity in both directions on the x-axis, come to think of it. I don’t think I’ve considered it quite the way ever before.
Wow, talk about going off on a tangent*.
Anyway, not much else is new currently, not that I was just discussing anything new other than my new way of looking at the infinities of sine curves and, of course, the new month, which isn’t really all that new when you get right down to it. Is June named for Jupiter (i.e. Juno)? I should look that up.
…Okay, I did, and reminded myself that Juno was the Roman name for the goddess equivalent to Hera, the wife of Zeus/Jupiter, so it’s indirectly related to Jupiter, not directly. That was an embarrassing mix-up of names and ideas in my head. Good thing I didn’t write it down and publish it for everyone to see!
Of course, July and August are named after Julius Caesar and Caesar Augustus (née Octavian). Then we have months that used to be named for their ordinal place in the calendar: September (7), October (8), November (9), December (10), but I guess they all got shifted over two spaces at some point after they were originally named, though I don’t recall quite when and why that happened, and that isn’t something in which I’m interested enough right now to look it up.
I don’t know why I’m writing about this sort of stuff today. I’m just following whatever random—or at least stochastic—impulse occurs based on the preceding thought or statement or whatever. It’s not as though there’s any reason for me to do anything different.
I had a brief moment or two of “inspiration” yesterday evening, during which, on the train heading back to the house, I wrote a poem/song lyrics on the notepad function of my smartphone. Having been written by me, it’s a very gloomy sort of poem/song, and I don’t have even an inkling of a melody for it. I just felt a bit of a dip in my mood, even relative to baseline, and decided to express that the way I sometimes used to do. That’s how I wrote what turned into the lyrics of my song Come Back Again, and something related to it was responsible for Catechism and Breaking Me Down, though the latter two were semi-deliberately written as song lyrics from the start.
A little later, I was watching someone on YouTube reacting to the “unplugged” performance of a few Nirvana songs, and I decided to look up the chords to Come As You Are; I downloaded a PDF of those. It’s not a very complicated song, but it sounds quite good. Kurt Cobain had a way of writing melodies that were unlike anything just about anyone else ever wrote. Though, I also like his/their performance of The Man Who Sold The World, which is originally a David Bowie song. I don’t think I’ve ever heard Bowie’s version of it, though. I should have looked up the chords to that; maybe I will today.
But, of course, the odds of me ever doing anything with such chords, let alone writing a tune to and making a new song of my own seem vanishingly small. Right now—by which I mean “now in general” not “now this very moment”—I’m just meandering through each day rather thoughtlessly, certainly pointlessly, with no goal or aspiration or anything of the sort. There isn’t any point to anything I do.
I do really miss my kids. I miss everyone else, too—my old friends, my immediate and more distant family, living and dead, all those people—but especially my kids. I’m very lonely, but I’m also very socially withdrawn and incapable/incompetent. I don’t think it’s at all possible for me to seek out and meet with or connect with anyone, new or old, in the world—except for my kids.
If they wanted to meet with me, I would do it. I don’t even think it would be a struggle. As far as everyone and everything else goes, though…well, I’ve lost my communication/connection hardware and software or whatever, or maybe I just didn’t get the updates, and so my system is hopelessly outdated, and when I even think about such things, the application crashes.
That’s a pretty weird couple of metaphors.
Anyway, I’m not capable of reaching out to people, other than through here, even when I want to do it. I’m also not capable of trying to take care of myself (medically, psychologically, whatever), or take care of any other proactive business of life. Life isn’t my domain anymore, I think. Nevertheless, I can’t be darkly cool and quote the Bhagavad Gita like Oppenheimer: “I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds.” It would probably be more appropriate for me to say something like, “I am become Drizzle, the dampener of spirits.”
That was sort of the subject of the poem/song I wrote yesterday. But most people don’t like to drink watered-down spirits—though I do, sometimes. I also like watered down soda, I’ve come to realize. Go figure.
Anyway, that’s enough of all that. I think it’s time to head off to go to the train, thence to the office. If I get there early enough, maybe I’ll play some guitar. I doubt it.