Log24

Wednesday, September 1, 2021

Moss from an Old Manse

Filed under: General — Tags: — m759 @ 12:46 PM

An image from Bedrock, a post on May 19, 2011, "Hilary Knight Day" —

http://www.log24.com/log/pix11A/110519-PhaneSense.jpg

Fact check —

Related entertainment —

 “There are dark comedies. There are screwball comedies.
But there aren’t many dark screwball comedies.
And if Nora Ephron’s Lucky Numbers  is any indication,
there’s a good reason for that.”
— Todd Anthony, South Florida Sun-Sentinel

Tools

Filed under: General — Tags: — m759 @ 11:52 AM

Update at noon, in memory of Victor Snaith

Tuesday, August 24, 2021

Stones’ Bedrock

Filed under: General — Tags: , — m759 @ 5:04 PM

Friday, September 6, 2013

Space

Filed under: General,Geometry — Tags: , — m759 @ 9:15 PM

"A vast space that travels down to the bedrock
upon which the towers were built, the museum
winds its way deeper and deeper underground,
taking visitors on a journey to the very bottom."

— The Associated Press in
this evening's Washington Post

This suggests a review of a different sort of
bedrock:—

IMAGE- Right 3-4-5 triangle with squares on sides and hypotenuse as base

"If you have built castles in the air, 
your work need not be lost;
that is where they should be.
Now put the foundations under them.”

— Henry David Thoreau

Thursday, May 19, 2011

Bedrock

Filed under: General — Tags: , — m759 @ 11:32 AM

Today's previous post suggests the following—

http://www.log24.com/log/pix11A/110519-PhaneSense.jpg

Bester on bedrock and "the bottom line of all existence" suggests
a review of Wallace Stevens's "The Rock." Some background:
See Succor, May 11, and But Seriously, May 12.
See also Waiting for Benjamin, May 15.

Larry McMurtry famously wrote of reading Walter Benjamin
at the Dairy Queen. I never read Benjamin there, but I did
read at least some of the Bester book quoted above.

The bottom lines of this peculiar meditation—

It is not enough to cover the rock with leaves.
We must be cured of it by a cure of the ground
Or a cure of ourselves, that is equal to a cure

Of the ground, a cure beyond forgetfulness.
And yet the leaves, if they broke into bud,
If they broke into bloom, if they bore fruit,

And if we ate the incipient colorings
Of their fresh culls might be a cure of the ground.

— "The Rock," a poem by Wallace Stevens from
a section with the same title in the Collected Poems .

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