October meets its end

Friday 26th October, 2018

Beginnings

I first met Cinna at Le Voltigeur, which means a type of soldier that is very mobile. There is a tree in the middle of a makeshift square and four or five watering holes surround it. Paths lead up from Père Lachaise; Place des Fêtes is just up a cobbled street and stairs where I once met Aphrodite; and the writing office used to be down off one of the roads. Of course, at that time, I knew nothing of this. And even now this area stands out only vaguely in my mind, because I have not lived here.

At this moment, I’m meeting someone else and the bar is closed; the awning is covered with moss and the beat up reality of the place appears an evidence. I remember being astounded that someone could dare drink two coffees in one sitting – I had been in a job where we regularly drank up to ten. An understanding over coffee and spider charts; and what things we have accomplished since!

Marva Collins

Marva’s Way has the same beginning as On The Road and so far a portion of it has been dedicated to growing up in black communities in Alabama and Chicago in the 50’s and 60’s. While Cassady was enjoying his privilege by obliterating his mind, this woman was trying to get on in society.

The shocking results that the American education system was in decline from the second half of the 20th century are discussed and solutions are sought. I wonder if there is a link between the two – the counter culture of reckless selfishness soaked into the mainstream in the 60’s; and it’s pernicious effects would not be truly felt ’til the 1980s.

And I wonder what the state of the nation’s education is nowadays.

The Party’s Over

Never insult Paris in the presence of a burly Parisian.

Saturday 27th October, 2018

Strolling

Walking from Passy to Châtelet via the Tuileries follows the Seine. Adèle made a music video there; in the 1920’s people seemed to have an equestrian statue fetish; Asian photographers are selling clothes and/or bridal services; Europeans are photoshopping girls. I stop in the Gardens to write a few lines, a grey cloud over the Louvre and the heavy presence of Culture hovering like lead.

 

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