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I choose, as a determining POINT in my life, to acknowledge a bullet fired into the armpit of my grandfather, Samuel Scoville, Jr. by a thief in the night sometime in the late 19thc.
The thief escaped, my grandfather having pulled his own pistol from beneath the pillow, squeezing off a couple of rounds and sending the burglar scurrying into the
For reasons of family notoriety, the incident was reported in both
In those days couples were not advised to be alone. Unaccompanied.
Sam took a steam-driven locomotive train down to
For one thing: YOU, dear Reader, wouldn’t be reading THIS HERE right now, resurrecting these words to walk around in your skull-haus this very be-here-now moment. So even you are impacted forever by that bullet.
(I could drive up to Connecticut right now, retrieve the small bite of lead, drop it in your hand and remind you how co-incidental our life is—how inexplicable, how arbitrary & selective our accounts, how much we omit which is also absolutely necessary, how inadequate our because & affects.)
The bullet is a NECESSARY but INSUFFICIENT cause of who-I-am, without which any explanation would be incomplete. Sam Scoville
Given the chance and right mind, I'd choose ugly most days.
ReplyDeleteWhy not go for those rough edges that can get edited off later? That's something pretty'll never get, stomach fat or lost on wrong turns to be redirected by an editor's scalpel.
What I like about ugly is that it has a unique sensibility that pretty doesn't, a raucous doesn't play-well-with-others that keeps ugly more in-itself, it's own grounding and sake, while pretty's pretty for-itself. Pretty doesn't need more traction than pleasing, but ugly's got a longer way to go if it wants to sell you on some idea or nick-nack.
If Sartre or Socrates were pretty, people might've been too entranced by their smooth skin to busy themselves with arguing. Perhaps there's something to be said for the lazy eye and smelly toga.
Love it May. You said what I feel but thought I'd better go about it in a self-denigrating way. I call my self a bullshitter rather than a philosopher for the same reasons. Confirms the Other in their bias and aint so threatening. I'm sure there's a contradiction of sorts in that, but so it goes.
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