"Traffics and Discoveries" by Rudyard Kipling
-- a collection of stories, is published by Charles Scribner's Sons, New York, 1904.
The Sussex Weald. "One view called me to another; one hill top to its fellow, half across the county..." "They" (A Ghost Story) in Traffics and Discoveries.
Today's post was meant to be about the Great Baltimore Fire of 1904, but I simply wasn't up to it. No more fires.
"I'm not cut out for natural disasters anyway," I confided to A. "The only point was, you know, as a tie-in to the fires we're having."
"Fox News says the fires were set by the Terrorists."
"You're joking," I scoffed. Then, "You're not joking. Good grief, do people still watch Fox News?" I had once tried making the cable company block all the Fox channels because I refused to pay for them, but to no avail.
"As Virginia Woolf once said, 'Mr. Kipling shouts Hurrah for the Empire! and puts out his tongue at her enemies,'" my friend announced, a writer quoting a writer quoting a writer. Virginia must have loathed Kipling, I thought.
"Kipling lived in Sussex," I said aloud then, reminded of something from the day before. He moved there with his American wife after living in Vermont. The National Trust has the house and his 1928 Phantom 1 Rolls Royce.
"What's the point?" A. asked.
"Well, the point is what the point always is," I explained. "An event in the past triggers a contemplation in the present. The Past inspires the Present, you see?" I could feel myself warming up. "Time is Freedom. Time is not a fourth dimension, Time is not an amount of anything at all, it doesn't curve with space, it opens space, leading to a synchronicity of thought that manifests in the real world as --"
"Earth to Major Tom," A. interrupted, reminding me of our Ziggy Stardust days. I stopped and drew breath.
"Fine," I said testily, stung. "How about," I tried again, "the point is it gets me out of bed in the morning?"
A. nodded. "I'll buy that," she replied. "Just remember that the right people are also paying attention, and your friends got your back, okay? Now go say something nice about Ruddy Kipling and get on with your day."
The Sussex Weald. "One view called me to another; one hill top to its fellow, half across the county..." "They" (A Ghost Story) in Traffics and Discoveries.
Today's post was meant to be about the Great Baltimore Fire of 1904, but I simply wasn't up to it. No more fires.
"I'm not cut out for natural disasters anyway," I confided to A. "The only point was, you know, as a tie-in to the fires we're having."
"Fox News says the fires were set by the Terrorists."
"You're joking," I scoffed. Then, "You're not joking. Good grief, do people still watch Fox News?" I had once tried making the cable company block all the Fox channels because I refused to pay for them, but to no avail.
"As Virginia Woolf once said, 'Mr. Kipling shouts Hurrah for the Empire! and puts out his tongue at her enemies,'" my friend announced, a writer quoting a writer quoting a writer. Virginia must have loathed Kipling, I thought.
"Kipling lived in Sussex," I said aloud then, reminded of something from the day before. He moved there with his American wife after living in Vermont. The National Trust has the house and his 1928 Phantom 1 Rolls Royce.
"What's the point?" A. asked.
"Well, the point is what the point always is," I explained. "An event in the past triggers a contemplation in the present. The Past inspires the Present, you see?" I could feel myself warming up. "Time is Freedom. Time is not a fourth dimension, Time is not an amount of anything at all, it doesn't curve with space, it opens space, leading to a synchronicity of thought that manifests in the real world as --"
"Earth to Major Tom," A. interrupted, reminding me of our Ziggy Stardust days. I stopped and drew breath.
"Fine," I said testily, stung. "How about," I tried again, "the point is it gets me out of bed in the morning?"
A. nodded. "I'll buy that," she replied. "Just remember that the right people are also paying attention, and your friends got your back, okay? Now go say something nice about Ruddy Kipling and get on with your day."
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