probably not the post JWG is checking for (sorry JWG)

thanks all. i am healing away. or healing towards. i am a little like an old person - can't do so much, little things become adventures - the shower, putting on a shirt, feeding the cats. my body urges me to go slow, and i am trying to oblige, but the MTV generation has a tuff time with that, and i'm of it. i'm learning.

being confined to sickbed is a great time to catch up on old movies (to much head ache for reading) but the ones I picked out naively are in German, French and Danish, and the subtitles hurt. Still Herz Aus Glas is fucking incredible - the whole cast was filmed - save the lead - under hypnosis, and not only does my favorite Blondie song come out of it, but there are some drop dead gorgeous, and haunting, and disturbing, scenes in this lt. 70s Herzog flick. And Derrida is for me the perfect - and highly accessible, esp. to one dedicated to reading/writing in this culture - reintroduction to the man and his work. Derrida is a thinker that I wander away from but never want to escape, eclipse, or forget - his work is just too vital a surgery of the Western body. If I can get away with putting it that way. Derrida and I meet in our mutual concern with turning over the givens of our culture, examining them in the name of a greater freedom, a greater clarity of vision (and one which allows, can even appreciate, the peripheral and occasional blur and myopic blind). Plus, it was a film that made me reconsider the lady in the ER who was shouting repeatedly that "Its all a conspiracy" - there is definitely a place where the alliance of police, HMOs, social workers and doctors and staff does seem both unholy and definitely conspiratorial. I suppose I would really have wet my pants if it had been a film on Foucault.

Anyway, my poncey eyes are tired and I will wait to tomorrow to watch the Five Obstructions. Honestly, with Sarah off travelling and me all alone and weak/recovering, I'd be up for a good erotic film - the kind that gets the blood flowing. Not quite the genre exercise of porn, I really don't know what film it would be - but luscious, passionate, embodied, sensual, connected. Bodies not removed from hearts and minds. Cheesy? When I was in the ER, there was nothing better to have a nurse touch my shoulder and look into my eyes and hear - truly listening and allowing my words to enter - my heartfelt and roughly worded thanks. That was sensual, that was intimacy, that was connection. And is. As a sidenote, those fuckers were a little guarded, a little resistant to, at first, hearing this thanks - but as I told Ms. Sparks last night, if one holds eye contact while speaking - something I am gunshy of - you can see their pupils adjust, relax - is it dilate? - into the channel of communication between us. And their faces softened - men and women - and for a moment they stopped rushing around as caregivers, and let me reciprocate, and felt the joy of their work, making, as they do, such moments of healing, of life, possible. And after all the shitstorm of those last few hours at the hospital - as a patient, and as a body to be performed upon (and thank god, cuz i could barely talk at first let alone walk and i needed that performance) - it felt so GOOD to be able to give something back - a sense of gratitude, of play, of exchange, of communion even.

Am I preaching? Let's hope its an innocuous (innoculate) sermon. And now, again, writing this, I discover my own poverty of the sensual, of intimacy, always reducing connection, penetration, commingling, to cock-groans and cunt-moans and copping a nice hiney. Having written this, I could care less about consuming something erotic now... with Eros, one can make their own. And freely SHARE it. At least until Blogger flags me (Et tu, google?). So, again to Ms. Sparks, lets hold off on that "I'd be willing to spring for a hooker for ya" offer for awhile. It was tantalizing.

I didnt link those movies above. its gotten to the point where, in this format, that feels like a very shoddy performance of "blogging". While I'm at it, there's fascinating controversary around the so-called 10th planet and other TNO's (trans-Neptunian objects), and at the center of it again are words, their definitions, and the privleges of names and naming. Such contentions! And no, the 10th planet is not going to be called Xena, if its going to even be called anything. Still, if you want to strike a blow to the system, go ahead and write about Planet Xena, we'll know what you mean, geekette or nerd. Every once in awhile, its good to return to the realms where Kuiper, Oort, 51 Pegasi (where, 10 years ago Thurs., the first extrasolar planet was discovered) and other such phantoms (such as: Orcus, Ixion, 2002 UX25, Varuna, 2003 EL61... and that's just a sampling near Pluto...) of my far mind dwell. Reminds me so strongly of being 5 and imagining infinity until I raced off the edge of my mind into, namely, terror, realizing there was no edge, no limit, no end. I nearly wet the bed.

Planet, from the Greek πλανήτης, planētēs, for wanderer. The ancients didnt include Mama Earth as a planet, so ostenibly it was Galileo and Copernicus's crew who showed that we too weren't fixed, weren't flat, weren't immune - our home too a transient nomad good-for-naught floozy in some cheap sandwich between pagan Venus and Mars. How very SF.

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sara - know that your "its okay kyle, you're doing great kyle , it'll all be okay.. i think i am going to faint..." was a highlight of the ER experience, you and that stubborn artery that WOULD NOT stop bleeding (A truly Taurus vein runs through me).

JWG - some photos were taken, but I haven't seen anything. I am saving the bandages though. Don't ask. The hole was plum sized, and it filled with blood, and when the artery was struck, I heard (I wasnt looking then) that it spurted like a fountain. I could clearly see how this hole had been made by a car door corner, it looked like someone had chiseled a pyramid out of my chest - it was deep, or so it looked to me. The ER folk weren't impressed, as it didnt puncture my lung. But then one of their next patients had a sizable hole of his own - in the side of his head. I must've been stuck with needles over 2 dozen times. The IVs and one (unannounced) invasion in my lower gut were particularly memorable. That sense of invasion though, like, AAIIIEEEE! in come the aliens, with their own inhuman agenda.

Dylan - No I didnt. How did she know it was her?

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well, i'm sleeping a lot and not being too ambitious. thanks and love and prayers to all. i miss you and i am glad we are all here.

love
k