in the closet (national coming out day 2006)

readymade comes like new year's eve, but monthly, to give us all a false sense of fresh starts and endless possibility. but this last month, as it happens, readymade explained to me how i could turn my closet into an office. looking up from the glossy page, my head tilting to the side, i heard faint music queue and rise in the background: i could do this.

i did. this is how it turned out:

i need a wife.

gender isn't essential here. what i need is someone who derives some sense of satisfaction from making sure that i have clean socks, new underpants, and five to seven servings of vegetables a day.

[this week was good. 'breakthrough' is too effusive a term, but a collection of seemingly random pixels has shaped up into something like an image. i have some idea what it's meant to be of. i'm not certain at all yet of my capacity to refine it. i spent most of the week in the library. i didn't take one shower. my socks were dirty. my underpants had holes. i lived on cereal and tea. it was disgusting/amazing. i may be totally unfit for social interaction by the time i'm done with school.]

(edit: other key wifely specialties would include (a) making doctor/dentist appoitments and explaining to me how to get to them, (b) reading all instruction manuals and contracts regarding various technological artifacts (read: helping me to understand my laptop and cancel my cell phone service) and (c) figuring out where to put my clothes now that i've turned my closet into an office. my wife would also need a general specialty in glasses, including the prescription of, the purchasing of, and the finding of [at least ten times a day].)

six months ago i tied bells to my shoelaces- a whimsical failure of an idea that i had meant to be strictly practical. the idea failed, but the bells stayed, and they are sometimes bells of mindfulness, but mostly i don't hear them anymore (this was what killed the whole idea in the first place).

now i live in the library. you can see how that might change things. i wonder what librarians think of shoelace bells.

today i read a most excellent paper. it reminded me why studying philosophy is what i'm doing with my life these years. it said many exciting things. in it, the author asked that i consider three figures-- the first diagrams a propostional attitude (known outside the discipline of philosophy as a "thought"); the second, a classical gas law; the third, heartbreak [sometimes philosophy is as good as a poem-- it uses language that's not everyday language to say something true-- irreducibly true-- about everyday]:

(x) (p) (q) [((x believes that p) &
(x believes that (if p then q)))
∆ (barring confusion, distraction, etc.,
x believes that q)]

(x)(P)(V)(µ) [((x has a pressure P) &
(x has a volume V) & (x has a quantity
µ)) ∆ (barring very high pressure or
density, x has a temperature of
PV/µR)]

(x) (p) [((x desires with all his heart that
p) & (s learns that ~ p))
∆ (barring unusual strength of character,
x is shattered that ~ p)]

none of this is really what the paper was about.

i could use:

1) a thermos-- something big and sturdy.
2) a most-purpose bike lube with a lid that really stays on.
3) arm warmers, light ones and heavy ones, that go shoulder to knuckles.

(fall is here. winter is coming.)