Title-less, But With an Aquatic Theme
Water, water everywhere but not a drop to drink
is the usual misquotation of Coleridge, and I confess to having been tempted to use it or a portion thereof as either a title or an epigram for this post.
But no, I decided. Spare us all from overused literary references. I don't want to hear it. Think up something yourself, I say, or shut up. Entire conversations can consist of nothing but regurgitated movie quotes and ... oh, you know, you've been there.
Let's examine this more fully, (I'm worked up just enough to say,) and then I'll tell you why I've been thinking about water. What was Coleridge saying here? (Coleridge is best read outdoors, standing up or on top of something or at least in a place that affords a view of the surrounding countryside, and, most importantly, he is best read aloud.)
An albatross has been slain, you may recall, and a ship lies motionless in the middle of the sea. All aboard bake under the sea and go a bit stir crazy. This is where Coleridge whips out his water water line. A line that would forever be bandied about mindlessly in countless conversation, headlines and blog posts, by those whose minds have ossified like a ship stuck on a windless sea.
Then he says:
And every tongue, through utter drought,
Was withered at the root;
We could not speak, no more than if
We had been choked with soot.
They teach this stuff to kids in school, remember. The twisted vision of an opium addict who never left the house, who entertained bizarre mystical visions and was given to radical political ideas. But nevermind. Someone decided to shelve his books under Classics, and that's all the Board of Education needed to know. He was a sick fuck. But he at least foresaw the drought of conversation of withered tongues that his famous water water line would cause, and that's something. I damn near fell into that trap today myself, as I say, but resisted at the last moment. Here I am telling you all about it, but why do we inhabit the same world if not to share ourselves with one another?
Today's Aquatic Theme #1: I spent all morning setting up irrigation line because I figured that would make it rain. Today's Aquatic Theme #2: Half-way through this it occurred to me that if I fixed J*'s windshield wipers, it would not rain.
Today's Aquatic Theme #3: After getting the irrigation lines up, I felt close to passing out from the heat so drove down to the swimming hole.
Today's Aquatic Theme #4: About 7:30 PM, it rained buckets.
Today's Aquatic Theme #5: I offer half-baked insights into The Rime of the Ancient Mariner.
My original intent was to flesh out those first four themes a bit, and provide you with yet another colorful account of daily life on this organic farm, but I lost sight of that and got hung up on Theme # 5. C'est le vie.
is the usual misquotation of Coleridge, and I confess to having been tempted to use it or a portion thereof as either a title or an epigram for this post.
But no, I decided. Spare us all from overused literary references. I don't want to hear it. Think up something yourself, I say, or shut up. Entire conversations can consist of nothing but regurgitated movie quotes and ... oh, you know, you've been there.
Let's examine this more fully, (I'm worked up just enough to say,) and then I'll tell you why I've been thinking about water. What was Coleridge saying here? (Coleridge is best read outdoors, standing up or on top of something or at least in a place that affords a view of the surrounding countryside, and, most importantly, he is best read aloud.)
An albatross has been slain, you may recall, and a ship lies motionless in the middle of the sea. All aboard bake under the sea and go a bit stir crazy. This is where Coleridge whips out his water water line. A line that would forever be bandied about mindlessly in countless conversation, headlines and blog posts, by those whose minds have ossified like a ship stuck on a windless sea.
Then he says:
And every tongue, through utter drought,
Was withered at the root;
We could not speak, no more than if
We had been choked with soot.
They teach this stuff to kids in school, remember. The twisted vision of an opium addict who never left the house, who entertained bizarre mystical visions and was given to radical political ideas. But nevermind. Someone decided to shelve his books under Classics, and that's all the Board of Education needed to know. He was a sick fuck. But he at least foresaw the drought of conversation of withered tongues that his famous water water line would cause, and that's something. I damn near fell into that trap today myself, as I say, but resisted at the last moment. Here I am telling you all about it, but why do we inhabit the same world if not to share ourselves with one another?
Today's Aquatic Theme #1: I spent all morning setting up irrigation line because I figured that would make it rain. Today's Aquatic Theme #2: Half-way through this it occurred to me that if I fixed J*'s windshield wipers, it would not rain.
Today's Aquatic Theme #3: After getting the irrigation lines up, I felt close to passing out from the heat so drove down to the swimming hole.
Today's Aquatic Theme #4: About 7:30 PM, it rained buckets.
Today's Aquatic Theme #5: I offer half-baked insights into The Rime of the Ancient Mariner.
My original intent was to flesh out those first four themes a bit, and provide you with yet another colorful account of daily life on this organic farm, but I lost sight of that and got hung up on Theme # 5. C'est le vie.
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