Ooops.
I kind of chickened out on this blogging thing for a couple of weeks there. Unfortunately, I can’t say that I’ve been waiting for the right moment to unleash the big, juicy post that’s been cooking in my brain, or that some catalyst suddenly moved me to express myself on this pleasantly uneventful Friday. As a matter of fact, right now is probably a pretty dumb time to give this another shot. I'm in my mercilessly florescent-lit office and I could/should, of course, be doing any number of practical things. Almost every day since carving out my little word-hole in the blogosphere last month, I have wanted to write, or at least wished I wanted to write. There were even times when I found myself with some free minutes and some ideas twitching in my fingers. Sure, I was thwarted repeatedly by worktasks and distractions human and feline, but, obviously, it’s been my own timidity that’s been keeping me from diving into this sea of bitterness. I never tackled the high dive as a kid; in that and the rollercoaster department, I never made it past mid-line before doubling over with a stomach gurgle and slinking back to my towel. Sorry for keeping you waiting. But hey, what up, here I am ( הִנְנִי ). For whatever reason, today is the day that I need to punctuate the oppressive hum of my little legal hive with a spurt of creativity, or at least mindfulness. The act itself feels naughtily subversive and I like it.
I need to exercise. Seeing as my lungs have been reduced to smokey nothings, maybe this can be part of my segue into a more active state. The Jawb, as I will to my best not to reiterate ad nauseum, leaves me so lethargic and so boring. The dynamic, whimsical mimis- mimis who might, say, join a rowing club, write children’s stories, learn power chords, help human beings, etc.- can feel pretty distant when I’m staring at 8 more months of paralegalism. This (undoubtedly resume-bolstering) position isn’t content to gobble up 45 hours of my week; it weasles its way into my conversations, dreams, and self-concept. My Glea-ful trip to the ‘burgh was the first time since September that I’ve gone more than a day without sweating over my work inbox. Come on. They’re taking my inner child. I’m fighting for custody.
Not chill. But hark: before those alter-mimis’ protesting squeaks are smothered completely by ever-growing stacks of to-do lists and pleadings (and, fortunately, the accompanying dollabillz), I am going to exhume them or birth them or whatever it takes to shake things up. I will be chill and so alive.
Welp. I should get back to transcribing this talk for my Sinophile boss. I’m actually pretty into it. Martin Jaques, author of When China Rules the World, is looking at the insanely fast and globe-fucking rise of China in broad historical and cultural terms, dropping such insightful and widely applicable nugs as:
Now, I know it’s a widespread assumption in the West that as countries modernize, they also westernize. This is an illusion. It’s an assumption that modernity is a product simply of competition, markets and technology. It is not; it is also shaped equally by history and culture. China is not like the west, and it will not become like the west. It will remain, in very fundamental respects, very different.
More on that soon; let me finish this interview and work out some jumbled and lopsidedly Israel-centric thoughts about the middle east before I comment further. Guess what: tonight I am making matzo balls and noodles for my sibling and, most likely, RPatz. What fun!
BAI
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