Log24

Sunday, March 6, 2016

Trevanian’s Meadow*

Filed under: General — Tags: — m759 @ 10:00 AM

* See related posts.

Sunday, April 18, 2010

For Trevanian

Filed under: General — m759 @ 8:00 PM

Where Entertainment Is God
(continued)

Google News at about 7:37 PM —

Image -- Google News, 'Dragon' Edges Out 'Kick-Ass' At Box Office

The Eiger Sanction, by Trevanian

"Because CII men worked in foreign countries without invitation, and often to the detriment of the established governments, they had no recourse to official protection. Organization men to the core, the CII heads decided that another Division must be established to combat the problem. They relied on their computers to find the ideal man to head the new arm, and the card that survived the final sorting bore the name Yurasis Dragon. In order to bring Mr. Dragon to the United States, it was necessary to absolve him of accusations lodged at the War Crimes Tribunal concerning certain genocidal peccadillos, but CII considered him worth the effort."

Saturday, May 11, 2019

The Babel Gift

Filed under: General — m759 @ 2:17 PM

"In the story 'Guy de Maupassant' (completed 1922, published 1932) Babel, or at least a narrator we are led to suppose is Babel, pronounces: 'A phrase is born into the world good and bad at the same time. The secret rests in a barely perceptible turn. The lever must lie in one's hand and get warm. It must be turned once, and no more.' To him words are an army, 'an army in which all kinds of weapons are on the move. No iron can enter the human heart as chillingly as a full stop placed at the right time.' This iron, an aggressive partner to Kafka's 'axe for the frozen sea within us', is something Babel learned to wield with recurring, unerring accuracy."

Chris Power in The Guardian , 10 February 2012

See as well "Art Wars for Trotsky's Birthday"
and some historical background.

Saturday, March 19, 2016

To Sum It

Filed under: General — m759 @ 2:45 PM

"To sum it all up I see mathematical activity as
a jumping ahead and then plodding along
to chart a path by rational toil."

Verena Huber-Dyson, Feb. 15, 1998

"VERENA HUBER-DYSON, mathematician and logician,
died yesterday [March 12, 2016] in Bellingham, Washington,
at the age of 92. She was Emeritus Professor of the 
Philosophy Department, University of Calgary, Alberta."

—   John Brockman at edge.org, March 13, 2016

Some posts from earlier this month are related to mathematical
activity, Bellingham, jumping ahead, and plodding along:

"The process of plodding is being analyzed by proof theory,
a prolific branch of meta mathematics. Still riddled with questions
is the jumping." — Huber-Dyson, loc. cit.

Still riddled — "Why IS a raven like a writing desk?"

Monday, February 29, 2016

In Memoriam

Filed under: General — m759 @ 9:22 PM

Thursday, October 1, 2015

Ornamental Language

Filed under: General — m759 @ 12:26 PM

See Trevanian's Meadow in this journal as well as

"Off the Florida Keys, there's a place called Kokomo."
The Beach Boys, 1988

Monday, March 25, 2013

Art Wars:

Filed under: General — Tags: — m759 @ 11:11 AM

Monolith for Maggie, continued from yesterday

"The young woman counted—
'Otu, abua, ato, ano, ise, isii, asaa'—
using what remained to her of
the secret language…."

— Opening sentence of the prologue to The Choir Boats,
a 2009 novel by Daniel A. Rabuzzi

The piano link in today's previous post suggests a review
of a post from Feb. 11, 2008. That post suggests in turn
a passage from the Trevanian classic The Eiger Sanction
that says, in part…

"Often it was unnecessary to finish a sentence…."

Wednesday, April 27, 2011

The Meadow

Filed under: General — Tags: — m759 @ 12:00 AM

From Nabokov's The Gift

http://www.log24.com/log/pix11A/110427-ApolloButterflyNabokov.jpg

Click for more about the Pushkin verse.

See also Trevanian + meadow and Congregated Light.

Sunday, April 18, 2010

A Generation Lost in Space

Filed under: General — m759 @ 2:29 AM

or, Deja Vu All Over Again

Top two obituaries in this morning's NY Times list–

David Simons, Who Flew High
on Eve of Space Age, Dies at 87

Dr. Simons, a physician turned Air Force officer, had sent animals aloft for several years before his record-breaking flight.

James Aubrey, who Portrayed the Hero
in ‘Lord of the Flies’, Is Dead at 62

Mr. Aubrey portrayed Ralph in the film version of the William Golding novel and had a busy career on stage and television in England.

Simons reportedly died on April 5,
Aubrey on April 6.

This journal on those dates–

April 5 —

Monday, April 5, 2010

Space Cowboys

Filed under: Uncategorized — m759 @ 12:00 PM Edit This

http://www.log24.com/log/pix10/100405-Eastwood.jpg

Google News, 11:32 AM ET today–

http://www.log24.com/log/pix10/100405-SpaceCowboysSm.jpg

Related material:

Yesterday's Easter message,
film notes from March 13,
and Dagger Definitions.

April 6 —

Tuesday, April 6, 2010

Clue

Filed under: Uncategorized — m759 @ 12:00 PM Edit This

Excerpt from 'Cosmic Trigger'
 by Robert Anton Wilson

See also Leary on Cuernavaca,
John O'Hara's fleeting reference
to Cuernavaca in Hope of Heaven,
and Cuernavaca in this journal.

Team Daedalus

Filed under: Uncategorized — m759 @ 9:00 AM Edit This

"Concept (scholastics' verbum mentis)– theological analogy of Son's procession as Verbum Patris, 111-12" –Index to Joyce and Aquinas, by William T. Noon, Society of Jesus, Yale University Press 1957, second printing 1963, page 162

"Back in 1958… [four] Air Force pilots were Team Daedalus, the best of the best." –Summary of the film "Space Cowboys"

"Man is nothing if not labyrinthine." –The Vicar in Trevanian's The Loo Sanction\

 

Commentary by T.S. Eliot

"At the moment which is not of action or inaction
You can receive this: 'on whatever sphere of being
The mind of a man may be intent
At the time of death'—that is the one action
(And the time of death is every moment)
Which shall fructify in the lives of others:
And do not think of the fruit of action.
Fare forward."

 

Tuesday, April 6, 2010

Team Daedalus

Filed under: General — m759 @ 9:00 AM

"Concept (scholastics' verbum mentis)– theological analogy of Son's procession as Verbum Patris, 111-12" –Index to Joyce and Aquinas, by William T. Noon, Society of Jesus, Yale University Press 1957, second printing 1963, page 162

"Back in 1958… [four] Air Force pilots were Team Daedalus, the best of the best." –Summary of the film "Space Cowboys"

"Man is nothing if not labyrinthine." –The Vicar in Trevanian's The Loo Sanction

Friday, April 2, 2010

The Meadow

Filed under: General — m759 @ 12:07 PM

Appalachian meadow

"Is it a real meadow?"

Yes, of course.”

Saturday, February 2, 2008

Saturday February 2, 2008

Filed under: General — m759 @ 2:19 AM
Trevanian,
Incident at Twenty-Mile:

Matthew had a couple of hours on his hands before dinner with the Kanes, so he drifted up to the only grassy spot in Twenty-Mile, the triangular, up-tilted little meadow crossed by a rivulet running off from the cold spring that provided the town’s water. This meadow belonged to the livery stable, and half a dozen of its donkeys lazily nosed in the grass while, at the far end, a scrawny cow stood in the shade of the only tree in Twenty-Mile, a stunted skeleton whose leafless, wind-raked branches stretched imploringly to leeward, like bony fingers clawing the clouds. The meadow couldn’t be seen from any part of the town except the Livery, so Matthew felt comfortably secluded as he sauntered along, intending to investigate the burial ground that abutted the donkey meadow, but B. J. Stone called to him from the Livery, so he turned back and began the chore they had found for him to do: oiling tools.

LATER….

After they did the dishes, Matthew and Ruth Lillian walked down the Sunday-silent street, then turned up into the donkey meadow. He was careful to guide her away from the soggy patch beneath the tree, where the Bjorkvists had slaughtered that week’s beef. Lost in their own thoughts, they strolled across the meadow, the uneven ground causing their shoulders to brush occasionally, until they reached the fenced-in burying ground.

STILL LATER….

“Matthew?” she asked in an offhand tone.

“Hm-m-m?”

“What’s ‘the Other Place’?”

He turned and stared at her. “How do you know about that?”

“You told me.”

“I never!”

“Yes, you did. You were telling about your fight with the Benson boys, and you said you couldn’t feel their punches because you were in this ‘Other Place.’ I didn’t ask you about it then, ’cause you were all worked up.  But I’ve been curious about it ever since.”

“Oh, it’s just…” In a gesture that had something of embarrassment in it and something of imitation, he threw his stick as hard as he could, and it whop-whop-whop’d through the air, landing against the sagging fence that separated the burying ground from the donkey meadow.

“If you don’t want to tell me, forget it.  I just thought… Never mind.” She walked on.

“It’s not that I don’t want to tell you. But it’s… it’s hard to explain.”

She stopped and waited patiently.

“It’s just… well, when I was a little kid and I was scared– scared because Pa was shouting at Ma, or because I was going to have to fight some kid during recess– I’d fix my eyes on a crack in the floor or a ripple in a pane of glass– on anything, it didn’t matter what– and pretty soon I’d slip into this– this Other Place where everything was kind of hazy and echoey, and I was far away and safe. At first, I had to concentrate real hard to get to this safe place. But then, this one day a kid was picking on me, and just like that– without even trying– I was suddenly there, and I felt just as calm as calm, and not afraid of anything. I knew they were punching me, and I could hear the kids yelling names, but it didn’t hurt and I didn’t care, ’cause I was off in the Other Place.  And after that, any time I was scared, or if I was facing something that was just too bad, I’d suddenly find myself there. Safe and peaceful.” He searched here eyes. “Does that make any sense to you, Ruth Lillian?”

“Hm-m… sort of. It sounds kind of eerie.” And she added quickly, “But really interesting!”

“I’ve never told anybody about it. Not even my ma. I was afraid to because… This’ll sound funny, but I was afraid that if other people knew about the Other Place, it might heal up and go away, and I wouldn’t be able to get there when I really needed to. Crazy, huh?”

Related material:

The Meadow,

Logical Songs,

Plato, Pegasus, and
the Evening Star

Saturday, January 7, 2006

Saturday January 7, 2006

Filed under: General — m759 @ 11:09 PM

Strange Attractor

The image “http://www.log24.com/log/pix05B/051123-Star.jpg” cannot be displayed, because it contains errors.

Epiphany Star

(See also the star as a
“spider” symbol in the
stories of Fritz Leiber.)

For Heinrich Harrer,
who died today…

The image “http://www.log24.com/log/pix06/060107-WhiteSpider.jpg” cannot be displayed, because it contains errors.

Harrer was one of the 1938 team that first climbed the north face (the Nordwand, also called the Mordwand, or “death” face) of the Eiger.

Wikipedia on the north face of the Eiger:

“A portion of the upper face is called ‘The White Spider,’ as snow-filled cracks radiating from an ice-field resemble the legs of a spider. Harrer used the name for the title of his book about his successful climb, Die Weisse Spinne (translated… as The White Spider).”

Connoisseur of Chaos,”
by Wallace Stevens,
from Parts of a World (1942):

III

After all the pretty contrast of life and death
Proves that these opposite things partake of one,
At least that was the theory, when bishops’ books
Resolved the world. We cannot go back to that.
The squirming facts exceed the squamous mind,
If one may say so . And yet relation appears,
A small relation expanding like the shade
Of a cloud on sand, a shape on the side of a hill.

V

The pensive man . . . He sees that eagle float
For which the intricate Alps are a single nest.

Related material:

Sunday, December 18, 2005

Sunday December 18, 2005

Filed under: General — m759 @ 8:11 AM

The Meadow

“Heaven– Where Is It?
  How Do We Get There?”

To air on ABC
Tuesday, Dec. 20
(John Spencer’s birthday)

By Trevanian, who died on
Wednesday, Dec. 14, 2005:

From
 Shibumi

“Well… the flow of the play was just right, and it began to bring me to the meadow. It always begins with some kind of flowing motion… a stream or river, maybe the wind making waves in a field of ripe rice, the glitter of leaves moving in a breeze, clouds flowing by. And for me, if the structure of the Go stones is flowing classically, that too can bring me to the meadow.”

“The meadow?”

“Yes. That’s the place I expand into. It’s how I recognize that I am resting.”

“Is it a real meadow?”

“Yes, of course.”

“A meadow you visited at one time? A place in your memory?”

“It’s not in my memory. I’ve never been there when I was diminished.”

“Diminished?”

“You know… when I’m in my body and not resting.”

“You consider normal life to be a diminished state, then?”

“I consider time spent at rest to be normal. Time like this… temporary, and… yes, diminished.”

“Tell me about the meadow, Nikko.”

“It is triangular. And it slopes uphill, away from me. The grass is tall. There are no animals. Nothing has ever walked on the grass or eaten it. There are flowers, a breeze… warm. Pale sky. I’m always glad to be the grass again.”

“You are the grass?”

“We are one another. Like the breeze, and the yellow sunlight. We’re all… mixed in together.”

“I see. I see. Your description of the mystic experience resembles others I have read. And this meadow is what the writers call your ‘gateway’ or ‘path.’ Do you ever think of it in those terms?”

“No.”

“So. What happens then?”

“Nothing. I am at rest. I am everywhere at once. And everything is unimportant and delightful. And then… I begin to diminish. I separate from the sunlight and the meadow, and I contract again back into my bodyself. And the rest is over.” Nicholai smiled uncertainly. “I suppose I am not describing it very well, Teacher. It’s not… the kind of thing one describes.”

“No, you describe it very well, Nikko. You have evoked a memory in me that I had almost lost. Once or twice when I was a child… in summer, I think… I experienced brief transports such as you describe. I read once that most people have occasional mystic experiences when they are children, but soon outgrow them. And forget them….”

“And we may see
the meadow in December,
icy white and crystalline.”

— Johnny Mercer,
  “Midnight Sun

Saturday, December 17, 2005

Saturday December 17, 2005

Filed under: General,Geometry — Tags: , — m759 @ 1:01 PM
For Trevanian:
 
Fade to Black

"…that ineffable constellation of talents that makes the player of rank: a gift for conceiving abstract schematic possibilities; a sense of mathematical poetry in the light of which the infinite chaos of probability and permutation is crystallized under the pressure of intense concentration into geometric blossoms; the ruthless focus of force on the subtlest weakness of an opponent." 

Trevanian,
    Shibumi  

  "'Haven't there been splendidly elegant colors in Japan since ancient times?'

'Even black has various subtle shades,' Sosuke nodded." 

— Yasunari Kawabata,
    The Old Capital

"The Zen disciple sits for long hours silent and motionless, with his eyes closed. Presently he enters a state of impassivity, free from all ideas and all thoughts. He departs from the self and enters the realm of nothingness. This is not the nothingness or the emptiness of the West. It is rather the reverse, a universe of the spirit in which everything communicates freely with everything, transcending bounds, limitless." 

— Yasunari Kawabata,
    Nobel lecture, 1968 

The image “http://www.log24.com/log/pix04A/040627-Prize.jpg” cannot be displayed, because it contains errors.

Sunday, June 19, 2005

Sunday June 19, 2005

Filed under: General,Geometry — Tags: — m759 @ 4:00 AM
ART WARS:
Darkness Visible
“No light, but rather darkness visible
 Serv’d only to discover sights of woe”
John Milton, Paradise Lost,
Book I,  lines 63-64

From the cover article (pdf) in the
June/July 2005 Notices of the
American Mathematical Society–

Martin Gardner


A famed vulgarizer, Martin Gardner,
summarizes the art of Ad Reinhardt
(Adolph Dietrich Friedrich Reinhardt,
  Dec. 24, 1913 – Aug. 30, 1967):

“Ed Rinehart [sic] made a fortune painting canvases that were just one solid color.  He had his black period in which the canvas was totally black.  And then he had a blue period in which he was painting the canvas blue.  He was exhibited in top shows in New York, and his pictures wound up in museums.  I did a column in Scientific American on minimal art, and I reproduced one of Ed Rinehart’s black paintings.  Of course, it was just a solid square of pure black.  The publisher insisted on getting permission from the gallery to reproduce it.”

Related material
from Log24.net,
Nov. 9-12, 2004:

Fade to Black

“…that ineffable constellation of talents that makes the player of rank: a gift for conceiving abstract schematic possibilities; a sense of mathematical poetry in the light of which the infinite chaos of probability and permutation is crystallized under the pressure of intense concentration into geometric blossoms; the ruthless focus of force on the subtlest weakness of an opponent.”

Trevanian, Shibumi

“‘Haven’t there been splendidly elegant colors in Japan since ancient times?’

‘Even black has various subtle shades,’ Sosuke nodded.”

— Yasunari Kawabata, The Old Capital

An Ad Reinhardt painting
described in the entry of
noon, November 9, 2004
is illustrated below.

Ad Reinhardt,  Greek Cross

Ad Reinhardt,
Abstract Painting,
1960-66.
Oil on canvas, 60 x 60 inches.
Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum

The viewer may need to tilt
the screen to see that this
painting is not uniformly black,
but is instead a picture of a
Greek cross, as described below.

“The grid is a staircase to the Universal…. We could think about Ad Reinhardt, who, despite his repeated insistence that ‘Art is art,’ ended up by painting a series of… nine-square grids in which the motif that inescapably emerges is a Greek cross.

Greek Cross

There is no painter in the West who can be unaware of the symbolic power of the cruciform shape and the Pandora’s box of spiritual reference that is opened once one uses it.”

— Rosalind Krauss,
Meyer Schapiro Professor
of Modern Art and Theory
at Columbia University

(Ph.D., Harvard U., 1969),
in “Grids”

The image “http://www.log24.com/log/pix04B/041109-Krauss.jpg” cannot be displayed, because it contains errors.

Krauss

 
In memory of
St. William Golding
(Sept. 19, 1911 – June 19, 1993)

Friday, November 12, 2004

Friday November 12, 2004

Filed under: General — Tags: — m759 @ 2:56 AM

Dark Zen

The above link is in memory of
Iris Chang,
who ended her life at 36
on Nov. 9, 2004.

A central concept of Zen
is satori, or “awakening.”
For a rude awakening, see
Satori at Pearl Harbor.

Fade to Black

See, too, my entries of
Aug. 1-7, 2003,
from which the following is taken:

“…that ineffable constellation of talents that makes the player of rank: a gift for conceiving abstract schematic possibilities; a sense of mathematical poetry in the light of which the infinite chaos of probability and permutation is crystallized under the pressure of intense concentration into geometric blossoms; the ruthless focus of force on the subtlest weakness of an opponent.”

Trevanian, Shibumi

” ‘Haven’t there been splendidly elegant colors in Japan since ancient times?’

‘Even black has various subtle shades,’ Sosuke nodded.’ “

— Yasunari Kawabata, The Old Capital

An Ad Reinhardt painting
described in the entry of
noon, November 9, 2004 —
the date given
as that of Chang’s death —
is illustrated below.

The image “http://www.log24.com/log/pix04B/041112-Reinhardt.jpg” cannot be displayed, because it contains errors.

Ad Reinhardt,
Abstract Painting,
1960–66.
Oil on canvas, 60 x 60 inches.
Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum

Friday, August 1, 2003

Friday August 1, 2003

Filed under: General — Tags: — m759 @ 4:03 PM

For All Time

“… and the Wichita lineman is still on the line…”

(Reflection on a member of the Radcliffe Class of 1964 who lived near Wichita and now has her own home page… While listening to a song on my “home on The Range – KHYI 95.3FM, Plano, Texas.”)

Readings for a seminar we never really finished:

“…that ineffable constellation of talents that makes the player of rank: a gift for conceiving abstract schematic possibilities; a sense of mathematical poetry in the light of which the infinite chaos of probability and permutation is crystallized under the pressure of intense concentration into geometric blossoms; the ruthless focus of force on the subtlest weakness of an opponent.”

Trevanian, Shibumi

” ‘Haven’t there been splendidly elegant colors in Japan since ancient times?’

‘Even black has various subtle shades,’ Sosuke nodded.’ “

— Yasunari Kawabata, The Old Capital 

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