Photo: Bianca Dorso

Following on the heels of "Sport," from the other day, the obvious title here as I'm sure you will agree would be "Drink" or "Other Places We Go to Have Fun," or "What We Like to Do After Shooting Thngs," or "Bag Grouse, Go Pub," but given how quickly everything is happening these days, aided and abetted as it were by meteor showers and triple eclipses, I think I may be forgiven if I diverge from the obvious now and then.  We need to adapt.  I admit there also seems to be an animal subtext operating as well, but do please try and keep up.

I will not, however, stray so far from the path as to share the content of my dreams as some bloggers do, but I can tell you this: they have tended toward scenes of an increasingly vivid nature.  And I am "waking up" in them, which is a disconcerting experience, I assure you.  Last night I was at my window watching the Hills blaze away and trying to decide what books I especially wanted to take with me when the flames came too close and I should have to flee, when it began to rain.  Relieved, I looked outside and felt the gentle spray on my face, coming (as I soon realized)  from a hose held by a young fireman who stood above me, wetting down the roof in anticipation of stray embers.  Thoughtful. 

The point is, I have been reading Jean Gebser's The Ever-Present Origin (Ohio University Press 1984), the English translation by Noel Barstad with Algis Mickunas of Ursprung und Gegenwart, (Stuttgart, 1949 and 1953), and have not been able to put it down.  Whether you have any interest in the history and evolution of consciousness, multi-dimensional or otherwise, or are simply looking for an alternative to Oswald Spengler's The Decline of the West, I have no doubt you will find Gebser's work as rivetting as I have, and I urge you to pick up a copy.

Even if you choose to quibble with some of Gebser's findings and interpretations, I feel confident there will yet remain much to entertain and delight and pique your interest.  For instance, have you ever noticed the linquistic connection between "eight" and "night" in Western languages?  As Gebser writes, (p. 17), "the n-less 'eight,' an unconscious expression of wakefulness and illumination, stands in opposition to the n-possessing and consequently negatively-stressed 'night'":

German         acht / Nacht
French            huit / nuit
Italian             otto / notte
Spanish         ocho / noche
Latin               octo / nox (noctu)
Greek             ochto / nux (nukto)
English          eight / night 

Yes of course, if you must know I am perfectly aware you suspect me of finding connections and correlations where none exist.  There's no denying it.  You think I push the limits.  You like to accuse me of seeking out meaning in the unlikeliest of places.  I know you do.  Expert shots and whiskey shots.  Deer, grouse, gophers.  1904 and the End of Days.  

But seriously, don't you think there's something to this n + 8?