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Author: Bartleby

Gin can be healthy (not really)

Gin can be healthy (not really)

[NYC Journal]
[Health]

I heard that gin is anti-aging, especially if it is shaken, as the shaking releases the healthiness latent in I guess the juniper-berry infusion.

Is it true?
Oh, whatever.

But, I will tell you the best gin drink to make if it is true:
Gin plus ice cubes in a peanut butter jar with the lid on; shaken vehemently; lid removed; add a squeeze of lime.

But you shouldn’t drink.
Chances are you are drinking more than you should.
Almost everyone drinking alcohol is drinking more than they should.
So we can’t recommend this drink.
But, well, it’s a shaken gin drink.

An article about the healthiness of Gin: https://www.businessinsider.com/7-surprising-health-benefits-of-drinking-gin-2017-10#4-it-can-help-you-live-longer-4
Low calorie, juniper berries anti-aging, and so on — we both know you’ll drink so much that you erase any tiny benefits that distilling a few juniper berries might confer upon your system.

And now there’s a gin infused with collagen, the consumption of which (of collagen, I mean) has been linked to younger-looking skin: https://www.refinery29.com/en-us/2016/04/109096/anti-aging-gin

You’re better off chewing a few juniper berries (or maybe juniper berry tea over ice? or a dash of juniper berry extract in your lemon water??) and getting your work done.

Author: puh
Editors: BW/AW
Copyright: AM Watson

[NYC Journal]
[Health]

Healthy French Toast

Healthy French Toast

[NYC Journal]
[Health]

Can the French ever be healthy?
We don’t know.
But French toast definitely can be.
Gather up 100% spelt sourdough bread and organic, free-range eggs.
Break the egg on a plate and mix it up into a froth.
Dip the bread in; let it soak on both sides.
In a flat pan, heat up some coconut oil.
Serve with apples diced and cooked with cinnamon.
If you have maple syrup: great!

Author: idunno
Editors: BW/AW
Copyright: AM Watson

[NYC Journal]
[Health]

Healthy Popcorn Recipe

Healthy Popcorn Recipe

[NYC Journal]
[Health]

Popcorn can be healthy.
Get non-GMO popcorn and pop it on the range with a little olive, non-GMO canola, or coconut oil.
Toss in a dash of salt, some turmeric — which is famous for healthiness –, and maybe some Italian seasoning.
Then a little first-cold-pressed authenticated olive oil.
Mix.
Serve with a healthy movie like The Triplets of Bellevue or that Australian movie called The Castle or that 1990 Bill Murray The Man Who Knew Too Little.
This is a great idea!
But don’t put in too much olive oil, because then it will sting the back of your throat and you’ll feel stupid.

Author: Ughh
Editors: AW/BW
Copyright: AM Watson

[NYC Journal]
[Health]

NYC Journal – Health

NYC Journal – Health

Over the last few decades, we’ve gathered up a lot of notions about healthy living.
Sectiongs:
Healthy Recipes
Alcohol
General

Healthy Recipes

Healthy Popcorn Recipe

Healthy French Toast

Healthy Egg Cream Soda

7 Up with Lithium again?

Alcohol

Standard, Heated, & Alcohol-Free Wine – Health Benefits & Risks

Covid19 & Alcohol

NYC Journal #21 – Beer #1

Wine Tips / Don’t Buy Alcohol

Non-Alcoholic Wine & Problem Drinkers

Gin Can be Healthy (Not Really)

General

I Don’t Know What to Say About Complex Systems

Get Some Sun, Not Too Much

Get Some Sun, Not Too Much

Get Some Sun, Not Too Much

[NYC Journal]
[Health]
[NYC Journal – Politics Page]

The human body is a complex system.

We don’t understand how its gazillion parts fit together.

We do know that sunburns are bad for us, and that even in the absence of sunburns, there’s such a thing as “too much sun”. We also know that getting some sunlight in the middle of the day is beneficial, and we know ways to mitigate both getting skin cancer and dying from it. We also know that most sunscreens are decidedly iffy, that a tan provides some protection against solar radiation, and that sudden blasts of insolation seem to be much more problematic than a continuous building-up of sun exposure. (On that last point: People who work outdoors have been shown to have lower skin cancer rates; a recent study of skin cancer rates found higher rates in northern (US) states; and wintertime sun-vacations correlate with higher skin cancer rates.)

It seems reasonable, then, to get enough but not too much sun in the middle of most days, to avoid sunburns, to prefer shade and covering over sunscreen, to build up your tan gradually each spring, and to avoid trips that swing your sun exposure from 0 to 100 (ie: Don’t Travel From Canada to the Bahamas in February!).

Below we’ll list some links to support the above guidelines, but the principle needs no links: We evolved in sunlight. And medical science always knows way less than it thinks it knows: it’s not going to figure out what all you lose by hiding from the sun; nor is it going to figure out how to balance all those losses with its various potions.

Sunlight: Go easy, but don’t pretend you’re a blind albino salamander designed to live your life cycle in pitch black. Obviously, if you are an albino human, you’re sunlight calculations are different than other people’s. We’ll talk a little bit about how much sun various skin types should receive in the below links, but albinism is a special case we’ll not here address.

For people who tan without burning: Maybe like ten minutes a side in the middle of the day several days a week while the sun is high enough to make a difference (April-September if you live above 40 degrees North or below 40 degrees South). Otherwise stick to the shade and wear a wide-brim hat

Also: Enough with all the showering! Who knows how it all fits together, but surely the human body was not designed to wash skin oils off every day! For one thing, the vitamin D needs some time to stew in the oil to foment its helpful contribution.
Maybe a shower every other day, with soap only where you need it (smelly areas). Or maybe just quit showering all together. At any rate, don’t take a shower right after you’ve been in the sun: those oils protect your skin.

Related: Deodorant? Really? Chemicals in your armpits? For what?

Author: Who knows?
Editors: B Willard & A Whistletown
Copyright: AM Watson

[8/9/2020: Sometime this week we’ll add the links]
Badness of sunburns:
“Double your risk of potentially deadly melanoma with a history of five or more sunburns” – skincancer/org

“Getting a sunburn just once every two years can triple your risk of melanoma skin cancer” – cancerresearchuk.org

Sunlight in the middle of the day for Vitamin D production
“A simple test is to look at your shadow. If its the same height or shorter than you, you’re getting enough sun to make vitamin D. If its longer than you, you’re probably not. In most places in the US in the winter, you can probably guess what you’re going to see.” – linuspaulinginstitute

“Except during the summer months, the skin makes little if any vitamin D from the sun at latitudes above 37 degrees north (in the United States, the shaded region in the map) or below 37 degrees south of the equator. People who live in these areas are at relatively greater risk for vitamin D deficiency.” – health.harvard.edu

Sunlight on your skin for nitric oxide release / cardiovascular health:
” In this issue, Liu et al. (2014) show that UVA decreases blood pressure and increases blood flow and heart rate in humans, which is beneficial to the cardiovascular system. This is likely mediated by UVA causing release of nitric oxide (NO) from skin stores. This mediator may have additional effects on human health” – sciencedirect

Sunlight & BDNF for brain health:
“Some liken BDNF to a ‘fertilizer for your brain’ because it helps to prevent the death of existing brain cells and stimulates the growth of new ones, supporting brain function in many ways. Low levels of BDNF are linked to anxiety, depression,2 obesity,3 Schizophrenia4 and Alzheimer’s Disease.5”
“In a Norwegian study of 2851 people, levels of BDNF directly correlated with hours of sun exposure in both men and women, levels dropped when hours were reduced.7”
[also helpful for BDNF production: High Intensity Interval Training, Mediterranean Diet, Intermittent Fasting, Cold, Less Stress]
deslardnerorganic.au
But I can’t figure out if it is just that the eyes need to see sunlight, or what.

Problems with Suncreens:
“Since scientists don’t know for certain whether sunscreen alone can help prevent melanoma, EWG strongly disagrees with the FDA’s decision to allow sunscreen makers to claim their products prevent cancer.”
Most US sunscreens block UVB, but UVA also causes skin cancer, and it is much more prevalent.
“Avobenzone and zinc oxide are the two best UVA filters in American sunscreens, providing the desired protection from free radical formation, and titanium dioxide is moderately effective at protecting against UVA rays. Yet even they are far from perfect. UV rays can break down avobenzone, although it’s almost always mixed with a stabilizer to slow down the process.”
“In the absence of truly protective regulations, consumers are in the worst possible position – likely to think their sunscreen is providing more protection than it is, then staying out in the sun longer, thereby increasing their risk of skin cancer and skin damage.”
EWG (Environmental Working Group)

“Bloodstream levels of four sunscreen chemicals increased dramatically after test subjects applied spray, lotion and cream for four days as directed on the label, according to the report.

“The levels far exceed the FDA-set threshold which require topical medications to undergo safety studies, said Dr. Kanade Shinkai, a dermatologist with the University of California, San Francisco School of Medicine.”
Article also discusses possible effects on hormones.
2019 article by D. Thompson for WebMD

Evidence that sunscreen is safe and useful
“An analysis published in 2011 looked at studies dating back to the 1960s and also found no negative health effects of sunscreen use.”
nationalacademies.org
The famous Australian study:
“In a community-based randomised trial with a 2 by 2 factorial design, individuals were assigned to four treatment groups: daily application of a sun protection factor 15-plus sunscreen to the head, neck, arms, and hands, and betacarotene supplementation (30 mg per day); sunscreen plus placebo tablets; betacarotene only; or placebo only. Participants were 1621 residents of Nambour in southeast Queensland, Australia. The endpoints after 4·5 years of follow-up were the incidence of basal-cell and squamous-cell carcinomas both in terms of people treated for newly diagnosed disease and in terms of the numbers of tumours that occurred. …”
“There were no significant differences in the incidence of first new skin cancers between groups randomly assigned daily sunscreen and no daily sunscreen …”
“Similarly, there was no significant difference between the betacarotene and placebo groups in incidence of either cancer …”
“In terms of the number of tumours, there was no effect on incidence of basal-cell carcinoma by sunscreen use or by betacarotene but the incidence of squamous-cell carcinoma was significantly lower in the sunscreen group than in the no daily sunscreen group …”
Daily sunscreen application and betacarotene supplementation in prevention of basal-cell and squamous-cell carcinomas of the skin: a randomised controlled trial

A note on this Australian study everyone’s always quoting:
The daily use of sunscreen reduced squamous-cell carcinomas, but not basal-cell carcinomas. It doesn’t mention melanomas.
Melanoma is the most dangerous type of skin cancer.
“Sunscreen isn’t a magic shield. The National Cancer Institute (NCI) says the evidence that it prevents squamous cell skin cancer is only “fair.” (For basal cell cancer and melanoma, the NCI says there is inadequate evidence to know if sunscreen is preventive.) In fact, some argue that by preventing sunburn, sunscreens offer a false sense of security, encouraging people to stay in the sun too long. Sunscreen users should buy one with a sun protection factor (SPF) of at least 15. Be sure to put on enough lotion. You need almost three tablespoonfuls on your face, neck, arms, trunk, and legs per application. At least a teaspoon should go on your face and neck.”
health.harvard.edu (they recommend avoiding the sun from 11AM to 4PM, but that’s the time when your skin makes Vitamin D; that’s why we think: just get like ten minutes a side from 11AM to 4PM and then head to the shade.)

States with Highest skin cancer rates:
“Utah, Delaware, Vermont, Minnesota and Idaho have the highest skin cancer rates of all U.S. states, and their residents are at higher risk for melanoma than those in Florida, California or Texas, according to the CDC.”
“‘Many of the high-risk states have intermittent sun exposure,’ says Charles Komen Brown, Medical Director of Surgery & Surgical Oncologist at our Chicago hospital. ‘People who are not used to regular sun exposure are at risk for getting sunburned when they experience sunny days. Any sunburn predisposes them to getting any kind of skin cancer, including melanoma.'”
cancercenter.com

A note on Idaho: Most people live in and around Boise. It is a semi-desert and at high altitude. So there you do get a lot of sun on your nose in the summer. I regret not wearing a hat more often while living in Boise, ID.

Lower skin cancer rates for outside workers / call for a tan without burning:

Solar radiation calculator (accounting for skin type, latitude, etc):

How much sunlight do you need?:

Why the radiation needs to be in the middle of the day:

Why you can’t make Vitamin D from sunlight for half the year at northern latitudes:

Diet to reduce skin cancer rates:

Mole checks to reduce skin cancer mortality:

What about storing up vitamin D for the winter:

Different races have different relationship to vitamin D & solar radiation?:

Showering is stupid:

Complexity of the system: Vitamin D, Vitamin K, Vitamin A balance:

I don’t know what to say about complex systems

I don’t know what to say about complex systems

[NYC Journal]
[Health]
[NYC Journal – Politics Page]

The body is complex system.
The body politic is a complex system.
An economy is a complex system.
A government, its people, their societies, economies, media landscapes, loves and lonelinesses is a complex system.

What can you say about complex systems?
It is hard to know how everything fits together.
If you make a change, it is hard to know how that change will fit into and interact with the system as a whole.
If you suggest a change, it is hard to know what people will do with that suggestion.

So I don’t know what to say about complex systems.

But I will say that with democracy, we can all move together in honest open open-minded, good-hearted consideration. And so we should work to improve democracy.

What is it to improve democracy?
Open, honest, transparent, gentle, clear, aware, accurate, competent, compassionate, loving kind: without these goods, no human thought/action is meaningful to any human. So there’s no way we can meaningfully engage in our shared system unless we preserve those goods. That’s what we can agree on. That’s where we should share our stand. That’s what a writer can suggest.

Author: BW
Editor: AW
Copyright: AMW

See the Something Deeperism Insitute, or A Readable Reader or First Essays [on But the Books!] for more on these obsessions.
We’re right about this starting point, but what next and what now?
Oh God I’m so worried.
Oh God I’m so torn.
O God I’m so down.
In this here time.

[NYC Journal]
[Health]
[NYC Journal – Politics Page]

Covid-19 & Alcohol

Covid-19 & Alcohol

[NYC Journal]
[Health]
[NYC Journal – Politics Page]

I don’t know if this has ever happened to you:

In like end of January 2020, you suddenly feel off while boarding a busy subway car at Union Square (the 4 towards Brooklyn, with the scary, toothed moving platform). Headachy. You wonder if you have a fever. A little blurry-headed. Tired. Time to get home!

And that’s a Thursday and then so Friday you wake up feeling bad and the Coronavirus pandemic is happening in China and you’d been to Chinatown with wet feet a week before to watch the dragon’s dance to celebrate the Lunar New year (Saturday, January 25, 2020) in the pouring rain and Chinese food at a sprawling, tightly-packed, much-clanking and chattering restaurant with a little arching footbridge connecting the large front room to the large back room. The dragons are brightly colored ruffled and feather-boa-y cloth covers attached to cartoonish, goggle-eyed, tongue-extruding dragon masks. Young teenagers inhabit them and shake and bob and jokingly menace storeowners. It requires a great deal of energy, which you guess is why it’s left to the kids. There are different teams of them with T-shirts and jackets. Behind them men in rolling chariots bang on drums. Cymbals chime. People pull confetti poppers that crack and spray the colored paper shreds all over the wet streets. The food is good but you wish they wouldn’t carry the green tea to the table in big rubber pitchers, although it does remind you somehow of ancient church potlucks from a youth now vague, distant, and in this instance within a long basement rec-room /dining hall with cinderblock walls painted lime green and with spray-foam insulation over the ceiling.

And you just feel zonked. Not terrible. Just like floored. So you stay in bed Friday and then Saturday and so on. Then Tuesday morning you go to the convenience-doc and the short woman with an African accent and long braids asks if you’ve been out of the country and if you need an excuse letter for your office. “No, they don’t care what I do!”, at which response she and the tall thin pale guy with the Australian accent laugh.

And you’d go back Tuesday, February 3, 2020, but your boss says skip it, she doesn’t feel great either and doesn’t want you around until you’re 100%

And then you just keep going to work like normal, but pretty soon things are starting to get pretty weird and some people are only coming to the office sometimes and you are going to take off Wednesdays to do pull-ups and dips since everybody else is taking off like two days a week. Well, working from home.

But what about this: You keep waking up with a little complaint in your lungs. A touch of congestion and a distinct papery feeling. It reminds you of being 22 and you’ve had a few too many beers and a half dozen (maybe it was a dozen) cigarettes the night before, and now you are waking up with “paper lungs”, as you put it. Except you’ve not smoked in forever. Anyway, it’s always gone within an hour or so of waking up.

But what about this: On some Wednesday – it must’ve been Wednesday March 18, 2020 – you drank a few beers in the evening. And then on the next Thursday right at the end of the work day, you felt very bad. Exhausted. Stupid. Unclear in head. Like you needed to drop into bed right then and you could not wait another moment and why is your boss talking to you right now!?

But wait: You didn’t have papery lungs every morning from early February through mid-March, did you? Nobody remembers when the paper lungs started. Was it directly after the early-February illness? Or a while after that one?

Suffice it to say: you were waking up with papery lungs for a while before that Thursday when you did not feel well at all.

So then come weeks of working from home, not feeling well, lungs papery not just in the morning but all day. Lungs congested. Weak. Only leaving the house to take out the garbage, which left you a little dizzy and done in. For a couple weeks you have no sense of smell. Although you have no appetite and are only eating about half as many calories as normal, after three or four weeks, your food supply gets a little pathetic. Five weeks after you left, you return to work.

And what about this: Didn’t you have like three or four beers in your apartment when this long illness began? And didn’t you drink them – albeit no more than one a day – all during the first week or two?
Beginning of June 2020 you get the results from the antibody test: DETECTED. OK, so that’s something. It wasn’t all in vain. Granted, they’re not sure exactly how useful those antibodies are, but it seems like they provide at least some protection for at least a while.

Your lungs are still fluidy and papery through May. By June you’re getting all better. And then you help a friend move and are set back for a week. But then you’re all better again. But then you have a week’s vacation early in July and drink a couple to a few drinks most days and by the end, you’re back having papery and congested lungs every day all the time. Which is where you still are as August 2020 begins. You feel fine, except there is this persistent complaint.

You’d gotten away with a few individual beers on a few individual days prior to your vacation, but this several days of several beers/wines/gin-one-day seems to correlate with a recurrence of covid-caused lung flaws.

What does this tell you?

What does it make you think?

I think it makes you think that you need to take a good year off alcohol – regardless of how good you may at some point think you feel.

What you might do is get really into kombucha. Because it’s like a drug, but very mild, especially as you’ll brew it with decaf tea. Since the kombucha process already eliminates a big portion of the caffeine, your kombucha will have such a tiny miniscule insignificant drop of caffeine. There’s also a little little bit of alcohol in kombucha. It’s probably just the right amount for you. And then there’s something else, some secret drug within the overall effect of the concoction.

Also you might double-down on the decaf iced tea between 7AM-11AM and hibiscus iced tea thereafter.

Also what about getting back into meditation?

Also what about getting married and settling down into a quiet life in the country?

Also what about being more consistent with your journalling?

Also what about a little yoga most days?

Also what about how you’re happier not drinking anyway?

Author: Mulligan
Editors: JOS/BW/AW
Copyright: Andrew Watson

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from Die Offenbarung des Jungen Werthers

from Die Offenbarung des Jungen Werthers

[This is something we’re working on for Fixing Frankenstein — available in the Buy the Books tab sometime August 2020. Don’t feel bad if you don’t speak German, we’ll translate the below into English before the book’s released. The background is that Victor Frankenstein, Elizabeth Frankenstein, Justine Moritz, Henry Clerval, and the monsters Lee & Vuh are leaving their picnic to travel into a book: Goethe’s The Sufferings of the Young Werther. They’re going to try to redirect the book’s action away from its tragic ending.]

Die Offenbarung des Jungen Werthers
Eine wahre, wenn auch seltsame Geschichte
— von Elizabeth Frankenstein erlebt und niedergeschrieben.

Leaving his father and brothers to guard our defenseless bodies for the outward hour our journey required (I say “outward hour” because, as Victor explained, our inner experience of time would be very different than that of our motionless and apparently desouled frames), Victor bat uns alle im Kreis sitzen und gab uns alle ein Schlückchen sein mitgebrachtes Elixier. Mit geschlossenen Augen reichten wir einander die Hände und verschließen die Augen.

Die Offenbarung des Jungen Werthers
Eine wahre, wenn auch seltsame Geschichte
— von Elizabeth Frankenstein erlebt und niedergeschrieben.

Leaving his father and brothers to guard our defenseless bodies for the outward hour our journey required (I say “outward hour” because, as Victor explained, our inner experience of time would be very different than that of our motionless and apparently desouled frames), Victor bat uns im Kreis sitzen und gab uns alle ein Schlückchen sein mitgebrachtes Elixier. Mit geschlossenen Augen reichten wir einander die Hände und verschließen die Augen.

Bald verlor ich jegliches Bewusstsein der Außenwelt. Es schien mir — und die anderen haben es auch nachher bestätigt — dass wir alle zusammen durch einen langen gewölbten Stollen gingen. Die Halle war groß und prächtig wie eine Kathedrale — aber anstatt aus Steinen oder Holzbalken waren die Wände und Deckengewölbe vollständig von flackernden Bilder ausgebaut. Also wanderten wir durch Szenen aus dem Buch, in — so es uns alle schien — chronologischer Anordnung.

So sahen wir Lotte und Werther beim ersten Treffen in Lottes Stube, als ihre Geschwister wimmelten herum; und dann Lotte und Werther auf der Party im fröhlichen Einklang im Saal tanzend; aber auch dann die Verlegenheit Lottes und Werthers daraufhin folgenden vorübergehenden Betrübnis. “Also da sagt sie ihm, ‘Albert ist ein braver Mensch, dem ich so gut als verlobt bin’!” rief Justine auf. “Gewiss” stimmte Vuh leise zu.

Also gingen wir weiter, während die Geschichte, die über unsere Köpfe spielte, auch weiter ging. Und so ist Albert nach Hause zurückgekommen; die drei versuchen Freunden zu sein; Werther aber mehr und mehr unter dem Druck frustrierter Leidenschaft zusammenbricht; bis schließlich er eine Stelle in Weimar akzeptiert, in der Hoffnung, dass die Distanz zum Walheim (350 KM / 200 Meilen) ihn seiner Besessenheit befreien würde. Sein Leben im Weimar, und die schöne Bekanntschaft eines schönen Frauenzimmers wird aber sehr schnell von öffentlicher Beschämung (oder eher von seinen übertriebenen Empfindlichkeit) zerstört. Er kommt zurück nach Walheim um wieder bei Lotte zu sein, die inzwischen mit Albert verheiratet ist. Und alles sich verschlechtert und sich noch mehr verschlechtert.

Ich soll erwähnen, dass alle Nebenhandlungen schwebten auch über uns; und dass auch jene Teile des Buchs die nur im Geiste Werthers existierten, auch da waren: man sieht, zum Beispiel, Werther beim Schreiben, die Wörter er da schrieb, die begleitende Gesichtsausdrücken, und manchmal auch Bilder einiger verwandten Erinnerungen.

Wir gelangten an die letzte Szene zwischen Werther und Lotte — diejenige wo er ihr seine Übersetzung des keltsichen Heldengedichts Osian vorliest, darüber die beide zugrunde gehen und in Tränen zusammenbrechen, er denn sie umarmt und küsst, sie aber ihn zurückschlägt und entflieht, indem sie ihm erklärt, er dürfe niemals mehr zu ihr. Am nächsten Tag — wie geplant — bringt er sich um.

Wir standen also unter der letzten Szene zwischen dem unglücklichen Traumpaar — über die Decke und Wände verlieten die beide sich in Tränen. Victor hebte den Arm und wir hielten ab. “Zu weit gegangen! Wir müssen ein bisschen zurück, auch wenn wir in dieser Szene ergreifen wollen.” Und dann erzählte uns sein Vorhaben.

Er stützte seinen Plan auf der Wirkung von Literatur auf dem menschlichen Verstand. Clerval und Vuh, wenn sie im Prinzip seiner Ideen zwar zwingend fanden, konnten dem Entschluss nicht entkommen, dass bei dieser Stelle in seiner tragischen Geschichte Werther schon zu weit außer Fassung gekommen seien, um uns auf eine literarischen Kur zu verlassen. “Das mag wohl sein,” stimmte Victor zu, “also, ihr zwei bleiben bei seinem Zimmer, falls die Dichtkunst fehlschlägt.”

WARTEMAL – – – –

Mittag 22 Dezember 1772

Lee, Vuh, Victor, Clerval, Justine und ich kamen im Wetzler an. Werther war weg und wurde erst in einigen Stunden zurückkommen. Vuh und Clerval suchten Werthers Wohnung um sie zu überwachen. Bevor wir den Saal der flimmernden Buchszene verließen, hatten Victor, Vuh, Justine und ich uns Pferden vorgestellt. Justine aber hatte zu viel eifer in ihrem Pferde zugetäumt, und der schwarze Hengst wieherte gehetzt, den Kopf (mit dem weißen Diamant unter den Augen mitten im Maulkorb) in jeglicher Richtung herumwerfend, und strampelte wild mit den Hufen, erst vorwärts dann rückwärts springend. Sie blieb also auch zurück, um eine Pferdestall zu finden. Lee und ich ritten nach Wahlheim mit den ausgewählten Textpassagen.

Wir wussten, dass Lotte allein von ungefähr fünf bis halb sieben bleiben wird. Die gezielte Schublade war neben einem offenen Fenster, und nach unseren Beobachtungen der Szenen, hatten wir geschätzt, dass Lees lange Arme die Schublade von draußen öffnen und hineingreifen könnten. Also mussten wir nur auf den richtigen Augenblick abzuwarten.

Zuerst hatten wir so ein Paar Komödie der Irrtümer. Charlotte verließ die Stube; Lee öffnete die Schublade und suchte nach Ossian; Charlotte kehrte plötzlich zurück; der lange Arm Lees zog sich zurück, ohne die Schublade schließen zu können; Lotte kratzte den Kopf und machte die Schublade zu; das alles passierte ein zweites Mal, und Lotte schaute verwirrend um und drückte mit ihrer ganzen Gewicht gegen der Schublade; die Zeit wurde knapp.

“Hebe mich ins Fenster an”, sagte ich.
“Was?”, sagte Lee.
“Jetzt!” sagte ich, indem ich die Passagen aus ihrer Hand nahm.
In einer mühelosen, fließenden Bewegung hob sie mich nach oben, durchs Fenster und auf den Stubenboden.

Glücklicherweise blieb Lotte stumm. Sie saß mir gegenüber auf dem Sofa und mit offenem Mund starrte auf mich als ob ich eigentlich nicht möglich sei.

“Entschuldigen Sie mir bitte die Störung. Ich muss aber Ihre Hilfe bitten. Werthers Übersetzung Ossiads müssen Sie mit diese Passage ersetzen. Hier, ich mache es selbst. Ossiad verstecken wir tief in diesem auf dem Tische liegenden Buch; und da, wo Ossiad war, setzten wir diese ruhigere, süßere Wörter. Für das was demnächst kommt ist Ossiad eine besonders schädliche Literatur; dies ist viel mehr angebracht. Aber ich bitte Ihnen, tue als ob Sie glaubten, dass Ossiad immer noch hier wäre, und forderen Sie ihn an, dir Ossiad vorzulesen. Und kein Wort bitte davon, dass ich hier wäre! Ich bedauere sehr, dass wir nicht mehr geschickt hätte handeln können, aber wenn Sie sowieso natürlich agieren, und, wie gesagt, bitten ihn Ossiad zu lesen, und dann nur dies finden, was Ihnen sehr überrascht, und dann meinen, dass Sie sowie möchten, dass er Ihnen dies vorlese. Wenn Sie bitte das alles so kühn und schauspielerisch wie möglich machen können, könnten wir alle noch Erfolg haben.”

Ich ging zurück ans Fenster. Lotte sagte aber leise — ganz leise, weil ihre Stimme immer noch verschwunden war — , “Halten Sie bitte. Ich verstehe nicht.” Da wendete ich sie sehr Ernst und wohlwollend an, und — mit dem sanftesten Lächeln und als Tränen in den Augen schwankten — antwortete ich, “Sie brauchen nicht alles zu verstehen.” Und da war sie stumm, und, ihre Augen groß und an die meinigen angebunden, gab sie ein sehr kleines aber sehr bedeutendes und viel teilnehmendes Nicken.

Ich kletterte in die Armen Lees und wir versteckten uns im Gebüsch als die Handlung des Buchs uns entgegenkam.

[And then Werther comes to visit Charlotte]

Author: B Willard
Editor: A Whistletown
Copyright: AM Watson

NYC Journal #21 – Beer #1

NYC Journal #21 – Beer #1

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NYC Journal #21 — Friday, 7/3/2020 — Beer #1

The best thing about being sick with Cov-id19 for five weeks is quitting drinking.

So why would you go buy a six pack of crisp, refreshing pilsner? Why would you turn on Pet Shop Boys Radio, sit in a sweltering muggy apartment round about overcast-90F, sipping Pilsner Urquell over ice with a lime? Why would you risk your life like that?

There’s a sound rumbling in the distance. The day is overcast and I walked down the scene. Lots of people out. Everyone’s 30, or else they own a shop, or else they lie in worn-out threads and a layer of dirt against a wall, but no not here, not in this glamorous stretch. The Crown Inn is not open. Yesterday evening the several tables penned in by a wooden gate sitting out in the street where in old times a car might’ve parked — yesterday those wood-slat tables were full of revelers, and the backyard that’s always there was probably full too. All along the street, people dined and drank on tables on the sidewalk or sprawling out into the parking lanes. Everyone was happy. I noticed that everyone eating and drinking at the Island Cz Cafe was black. Is it always like that? Most everywhere else was more mixed in its sidewalk life. I waved to a superintendent I used to know. He had on a flat-rimmed ballcap and said, hey, hey, how’s it going? I don’t know if he was watching the guy with the knee-length square-cut baggy shorts rolling two red dice on the sidewalk. It was quite a few people in a ten foot long stretch of sidewalk but he had steps rising above it where he could sit up on a solid stone post and smoke a blunt and wave to me down there as I walked past.

Chavela’s is on the corner of Sterling and Franklin, and now people are seated on either side under big canvas roll-out awnings. They are all 30 and one girl was pale with a few friends while she held her young baby. The blue oval baby buggy, also covered with its own an awning, was parked on the sidewalk next to her. That 30ish guy alone with the stubble and the slight but perpetual tan, his hair buzzed really short on the sides and pretty short but tumbling suavely over on the top, in pink jean shorts and a white with blue print button up, tight-fitting short — he said to the dark-masked waitress that he wasn’t sure as he pulled the bright laminated menu across the wobbly stone-mosaic-topped little round table. I don’t know. I don’t know what he ordered. I didn’t see what anyone was eating. The three white guys — 30ish — were drinking a beer with their comida and were all sweaty; the one with his back to me had a long shard of damp down the center of his nice blue soft-cotton T-shirt. I don’t what know their exertion was, but they looked flushed with it. Maybe just because of the heat and their bulk; they weren’t that bulky though; so then I don’t know again, which I never said I did know anyway.

I think of both events; I think of them as one even though they are separated far by time and space. I think of them always cloaked within each other. I don’t like to. It makes me uneasy. It is Germany and I don’t know where I am. How am I lying in a nice, clean, well-furnished apartment? Who does it belong to? And where did I find that glossy, playbill-shaped street paper? So there I am reading it and I guess it must be written in German, unless I misremember and this actually happened in the English-speaking world. And it is about Leonard Cohen and he’s quoted as saying that someone said it to him before and it still is true: we all suffer, but none like the poor. But then almost twenty years pass, and I don’t know that I ever mention that stray comment but sometimes I reflect upon it, sometimes it comforts me, like it proves I’m where I would suppose I am: with some issues, but kind of doing OK, since I have a roof and a job and food and people who will act like the things I say are worth consideration. And then one day in the midst of this conversation I forget the details and I don’t think it had to do with race but with this conversant I felt always that it was always on his mind and so then when I mentioned this comment of Leonard Cohen’s (that’s my recollection, anyway), I thought his eyebrow slanted in a flashing annoyance and his, “yeah?” was particularly noncommittal and so I pictured that he was thinking that it was not fair to clump everyone into either not-poor-and-so-struggling-but-OK and poor-and-so-drowning-beneath-an-avalanche-of-compounding-misery — that he wanted to say white people don’t suffer like black people in this society, or something like that. But I don’t know, since on the one hand maybe I pick up on other people’s obsessions but on the other hand maybe I’m forever obsessively inventing other people’s actually-secret minds. And the two pieces float around in my mind, circling each other, ducking in and over each other like playing and/or squabbling birds — those tiny brown & white winged birds with the round white bellies that have lived everywhere I ever did, who today were snuggling and wiggling into the dry dirt beside street-lining trees.

I saw three people standing outside of a taco place. Or was it an Asian fusion place? Or was it I don’t know what it was — a bright red door in a bright mural, out of which float square-bottomed paper bags, folded over and stapled at the top, looking like little barns. And then these three young people — about 30ish years of age — walked along together, each swinging their own paper bag, talking through their masks to one another. The two guys in front, the girl behind in the center. The one guy in athletic shorts and a sporty T-shirt with a buzzed head was a head taller than the other guy who was dressed similarly. The girl was a little shorter than the shorter guy, and her hair was brown and short like a bowl? I don’t remember. Is there a diamond-shaped tattoo high on her back? That you see because her T-shirt is held up by thin shoulder straps? I can’t remember. They were caucasion, and I don’t know what they were talking about, but the tall guy was side-leaning a little towards the other, saying something about how this was such and such Crown Heights, and the other guy was like, “Oh!”, but I can’t imagine what could’ve been interesting enough to elicit that “Oh!”, and I cannot help but surmise that the enthusiasm was mostly a display of polite attention, and nothing real, certainly nothing you could sink your teeth into.

A tall thin woman with light-chocolate skin and curly black hair in a black tube dress walked past a couple guys standing at the back of the wide sidewalk near an apartment building, smoking cigarettes and not standing up quite right. The woman was 30s to 40s; the men were 50s to 60s and their heads were held cocked to one side and lower lips jutted out twisted and eyes bulged forward and they were bent over a little to one side and I think they were under the care of a young man who at that moment was helping another man who was standing similarly affected in front of an open suitcase, his shirt half pulled up by an unnaturally twisted palm, but frozen in that position for the duration of my walk-by. The two guys off to the side in front of a gray-brick building gave some weak but audible hubba-hubbas and ain’t she fines to the woman herself and then to each other once she, who barely deigned an eyebrow-twitch in their direction, had passed. The sidewalk is always so ragged and worn in these parts.

Lots of people sat outside of Domo Taco. They have a backyard too. Well, a wooden patio with umbrellas, wooden tables, wooden benches, also single tables with single chairs for couples and lone wolves. Out front of Domo Taco, I remember noticing only a dark skinned black guy with a shaved head and big shoulders in a short-sleeved shirt. But there were lots of people and I don’t know why I only remember him. I guess he was in his 30s, but maybe he was in his 40s and still hadn’t found anywhere else to go yet (I know the feeling!). Was he wearing baggy shorts and wrap-over plastic sandals? Was he seated with his legs apart, leaning into a little table, talking something to somebody? I don’t know. I can’t remember anything anymore.

It’s cool to be angsty at 23. At 42 it doesn’t add up to much. I’m floating out the window, I’m a cloud that’s gathering and splitting and dissipating, I’m a ghost light-stepping above the graveyard where lies my earthly remains. If only I’d’ve lived a better life! Good souls go to heaven; bad souls go to hell; iffy souls roam the earth, gathering up karma like cockroaches gather dust on their hairy little hind legs scurrying beneath these brown domed oval carpaces, scurrying through the world, fearing the light, darting in and out of dark corners, lonesome, driven on and on, without fellowship, without a wherefore or whereto.

So that’s about the end of the beer. Lots of ice with it, so I’m hydrated. Switched to Portishead’s song “Glory Box”. She just wants to be a woman. That’s how it is. And a man just wants to be a man — slip away from the noise with some woman, play out the roles where find our toes and release our demons, purifying the tumult through interaction within the animal sphere. Let it be. Let it go. The rest is padding. Of course, I must disavow this position, and even more forcefully reject any talk of ghosts and goblins. Such dogmas contradict the higher and holier one of Something Deeperism.

Author: Sam Spade, PI & Small Shovel
Editors: B. Willard & A. Whistletown
Copyright: AM Watson
Worlds: Forgetful, wide apart and expanding and thus separating more and more.

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