tirsdag, september 12, 2006

Devolution of Memory and Haiku

This morning I am less than 30 hours from departure to Tokyo. Shibuya!!! But every practical phrase I have learned has left my head. The impractical ones have become fixtures: "It is a highway. It is a new car."

Where did my memory retention go?

I blame all the garlic I ate the other day...though do not regret eating it. I blame Danish beer, though do not regret drinking it. (Dear Denmark, please pay me to live within your borders! I'm potty-trained, I swear.) I blame Netflix for not yet sending the Director’s Cut of Blade Runner, which is what I really wanted to see tonight.

I have a tape version, but no VHS player. This is just like me, primarily because it is me.

In the interim, movie-less and paranoid about spending money ahead of travel, I'm reorganizing closets and sneezing dust. Yesterday I found, in storage, a rather heavy paper grocery bag containing about three-months worth of handwritten short story drafts and novel notes from early 2002. Much of this work is unfamiliar to me. In my defense, I'll just say I wrote it in a fugue state.

I'm beginning to think that I'm the perfect candidate to lose all my early work in a fire. It would probably help things.

So I’m listening to Mogwai’s “Auto Rock” repeatedly, sometimes Xiu Xiu's "I love the valley, OH!!", and trying to finish up some work but the coffeeshop wi-fi connection keeps imploding and I have to turn to typing things like this in Word, knowing full well that all the work I’d lined up to finish in this waking hour, all that relies on a steady internet connection, will not advance because the wi-fi will not advance.

In times like these, I turn to what we all turn to in times of self-consuming anxiety: half-assed haiku.

Haiku for Shitty Wi-Fi
By a Guy Trying to Leave the Country

The leaves crabwalk ‘cross the floor
of the forest as
autumn settles in. The clouds

swell and storm. The squirrels cease
fucking around and
prepare for winter. The birds

make their travel plans. I have
made mine: Shibuya
awaits. Tokyo calls, yet

I lick stamps and drink coffee.
Autumn knocks upon
the glass, but the shitty wi-

fi owns my attention. The
sky opens for the
plane. The waters wave me on.

But haiku for shitty wi-
fi does not help me
feel better. Work remains.


It's amazing how far the human form might evolve yet how little the mind moves with it. This article says more about the human condition than anything else we'll read today. I'm sure of it.
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