mccarthyism

:: Sunday, April 10 ::

3:14am
Tonight I saw Saxon Shore. I could try to write everything I felt and thought, but it would only come up short. I’ll never forget tonight. Saxon Shore is my favorite band.

We only just got in. I’ve got to try and stay awake all night, since I go in to work at 6, only three hours from now. To sleep for just two and a half hours would be the death of me. Right now I’m going on three cups of coffee and a great deal of pure aesthetic momentum. To be honest I don’t feel all that bad.


:: Monday, March 27 ::

12:51am.
We had beef teriyaki at Billy’s apartment tonight. It was spicy and very good. I love my friends.

I’m at home; Matt fixed the room up nice again and we cleaned up. We put artwork back, cleared off the couch, straightened stacks and put everything in its right place. I like being here when it's this neat. I think we've done a good job with it overall, considering the red trim which you can't do anything about. It’s easy to take it for granted and let the mess get to you, but when its neat you really get an impression of what the room must look like to people who might see it for the first time. Very simple and livable, but with an underlying aesthetic clarity. I like my books the most. I have such great books. If Dan and I do get an apartment in the fall we're going to have a fine time decorating it. We’ve got good sensibilities and Dan has a lot of furniture at his parents' house. We would make a good team.

It’s been a strange weekend. There were some memorable moments but a pervading apathy has bothered me to no end. I can't seem to get into any kind of a routine this semester. Every day seems strange, like every situation is new and I’m having trouble adjusting to all the change. I wrote a while ago that I am just waiting for that sense of peace and constancy. Not boring: just peaceful, with learning and change taking place against a strong settled background upon which I can rest. And that background is Christ. It’s as though I can feel myself on the brink of a breakthrough, as though everything in my life has been leading up to this point and I’m finally ready to begin to put things together, and to begin to settle down into a smooth simple routine. I want, more than anything else, to settle down. Everything is in its right place and ready to go, but practically it isn't so simple.

I say this often, but I want this week to be that breakthrough. I want to go about my routine with a new sense of purpose and meaning, pressing on with determination toward the goal. I have some classes, some reading to catch up in and a couple of projects.

I’d like to spend some time at home this week. Maybe I can keep this room clean.

Listening:
Yo La Tengo: And then nothing turned itself inside-out



:: Saturday, March 12 ::

8:52pm.
Buechner:
"What’s prayer? It’s shooting shafts into the dark. What mark they strike, if any, who's to say? It’s reaching for a hand you cannot touch. The silence is so fathomless that prayers like plummets vanish in the sea. You beg. You whimper. You load God down with empty praise. You tell him sins that he already knows full well. You seek to change his changeless will. Yet Godric prays the way he breathes, for else his heart would wither in his breast. Prayer is the wind that fills his sail. Else waves would dash him on the rocks, or he would drift with witless tides. And sometimes, by God's grace, a prayer is heard.

"Dear lord, strew herbs upon my hermit's dreams to make them sweet. Have daylight mercy on my midnight soul."

I’ve been reading Saxby’s blog again, and reading Buechner. I’m an idiot.

Ethan’s favorite record ever:
Saxon Shore/Four months of darkness


:: Friday, March 11 ::

To read:
Rachel Carson: The edge of the sea
Frederick Buechner: The final beast
André Gide: Journals



:: Saturday, March 5 ::

1:10am.
With Chris. Saw two bands at the 40 watt in Athens last night and knocked around downtown and the university for a long time beforehand. We were in a diner and afterwards the venue and I thought about how ridiculous the indie rock scene is. Ive digressed. I am antifashion.

For spring break Matt, Val, Jenni and I are going to a state park on the beach in South Carolina to just lay out for a few days. I’m taking a few books, and a lot of music. If it comes off the way we've planned, it should be pleasant. Hopefully it will turn out like "Greenpeace."

I’m getting back in the way of these journal-esque entries. This is a journal after all.

Soundtrack:
Red house painters: Ocean beach

:: Tuesday, March 1 ::
4:37pm.
update:

reading:
frederich buechner/godric
f. f. bruce/the gospel of john
robert frost/collected poems

listening:
red house painters/songs for a blue guitar
sunny day real estate/lp2
sunny day real estate/the rising tide
low/trust

watching:
21 grams
the truman show

looking:
my smudged notes in bright sunlight as snow flakes came down outside the window in my eleven o'clock
the tape of last week's show, and how nervous and up-tight i looked
the study carrell in the library where ive spent so many hours lately, and out the same window at the same buildings and the same christmas lights in the window across the street

thinking:
about my faltering faith in christ, for my future
about how i'm determined to break this funk im in

All right.

I haven't done this in what, a week now? Not much changes. Time just cycles by.

We've only got three more weeks. It's kind of hard to believe. I haven't really got that much work, only some reading, a paper, and then that last rush for exams. And then you're through. I think I've put up all A's this term; I might have slipped to an A- in Greek. I just have to concentrate for three more weeks.

Lots of short choppy sentences in this. I'm just that tired.

All right. Last Saturday some of us went down to see Saxon Shore at the Caledonia in Athens. They were superb, absolutely superb, but there's just not time here. It was me, Chris and Dan who went. Anyway what with getting turned around in Athens and stopping for coffee, we didn't get in until something like three. And I had to work at six. I knew if I crashed out for only two plus hours I would feel terrible when I woke up, not to mention the chances of me getting up at all were pretty slim. So I said, hey, I'm in college, I've done this before, I'll just stay up. I didn't feel all that tired to tell the truth, and I had new Saxon Shore and three cups of coffee to fuel me. I did a morning shift, with Sean and Jackie. Sunday morning shifts are boss. There were only fifty people for lunch and Mike is never around on Sundays. You finish up breakfast around nine and then you just sit on your duff until twelve or pretty near it. By the time I left, around two, I was ready to sleep for sure. But while I was getting ready to shower, Shintaro called. They were playing soccer at three. Well I couldn't really say no honestly. We played until six-thirty, and it was something like eighty out. I played well; I had a good time. One thing led to another: I had to attend a school play, people wanted to do stuff. I didn't get to bed until one if I remember.

All that to say: it's Tuesday night and I still haven't recuperated. Dan told me Monday he read somewhere that it takes a week to get to feeling completely normal after an all-nighter. I told him I thought it was total bull-puckey. I've done it plenty of times, and I always bounce back after like one good night. Maybe it's all the power of suggestion.

Whatever the cause, this week has been pretty much a complete wash thus far. I just sat down to read Old Testament criticism after dinner. I sat there like an hour and got three pages in. So I came over and just typed this. I'll get back to normal, eventually. Only five more days. Dan you jinx.