PREMIER CHOU EN-LAI:

Ladies and Gentlemen,
Comrades and Friends,
We have begun to celebrate the different ways
That led us to this mountain pass
This summit, where we stand.
Look down and think what we have undergone.
Future and past lie far below, half-visible.
We marvel now, that we survived those battles,
Took those shifting paths
Blasted that rock, to lay those rails.
Through the cold night, uncompromising lines of thought
Attempted to find common ground, where their militias might contend,
Confident that the day would come for shadow-boxers to strike home.

We saw by the first light of dawn the outlined cities of the plain,
And see them still, surrounded by the pastures of their tenantry.
On land we have not taken yet, innumerable blades of wheat salute the sun.
Our children race downhill unflustered into peace.
We will not sow their fields with salt or burn their standing crop!
We built these terraces for them alone! 

The virtuous American and the Chinese make manifest their destinies in time. 
We toast that endless province, whose frontier we occupy from hour to hour,
Holding in the perpetuity the ground our people won today,
From vision to inheritance,
From vision to inheritance,
From vision, from vision,
From vision to inheritance.

All patriots were bothers once. 
Let us drink to the time, when they shall be brothers again!
Let us drink to the time, when they shall be brothers again!
Gam bei!

CHORUS & THE PREMIER: 

Gam bei!

NIXON:

Mr. Premier, distinguished guests,
I have attended many feasts, but never have I so enjoyed a dinner,
Never have I so enjoyed a dinner.
Better the music that I love outside America.
I move a vote of thanks to one and all whose efforts made this possible.
No one who heard could but admire your eloquent remarks, Premier.
And millions more hear what we say through satelite technology
Than ever heard a public speech before.
No one is out of touch,
No one, no one,
No one is out of touch.
Telecommunication has broadcast your message into space,
Yet soon our words won’t be recalled,
While what we do can change the world.

We have at times been enemies
We still have differences, God knows,
But let us in these next five days
Start a long march on new highways
In different lanes but parallel and heading for a single goal.

The world watches and listens, we must seize the hour
We must seize the hour
We must seize the hour
We must seize the hour
And seize the day!

ALL:

Cheers! 

* * *

NIXON:

To Chairman Mao!

THE PREMIER: 

The U.S.A.!

* * *

NIXON: 

Everyone listen! 
Listen! 
Listen!
Just let me say one thing.
I’ve opposed China!
I’ve opposed China!
I’ve opposed China!
I was WRONG!

“Words, as is well known, are the great foes of reality.” They mislead you by making you think it’s possible to describe concretely a feeling that defies description. Your feeling impels you to write words. Someone else reads them. They make him feel a certain way. It is a different feeling from what you feel. The words have interfered because by bestowing an illusion of precision they have made you think you’ve communicated something that you have not. Or you realize they have failed to communicate your message, which frustrates you. They are the building blocks of reasoned argument. But their potential uses span far beyond that, and when they are used for other purposes they almost imply that reason can infiltrate those purposes, that reason can infiltrate emotion, that reason can penetrate feeling: that it can solve any problem. You regret some things you say. You get upset over what someone else doesn’t say. It’s rare that there are those ideal moments when you say just what you want to say and hear said just want you want to hear said and even then the moment is fleeting and before you know if you’ve said too much or too little and there are you are back where you were. Not that that realization stops you from wanting the cold comfort of those moments nonetheless.

But words are all we have. Real life is an imperfect whole composed of imperfect parts and the sooner you make peace with that the better things are for all involved. Wouldn’t it be nice to have a bigger, closer family? Wouldn’t it be nice to have made it to Harvard? Wouldn’t it be nice to be stronger and thinner? Wouldn’t it have been nice to realize certain things sooner? To not have wasted so much time on someone who you didn’t even realize you loved; to not have spent so much time apologizing for things that weren’t your fault; to have ensured that everything you did was, at least in some way, for yourself or for someone else that matters rather than a faceless entity who could quickly spit you out at a moment with little to show for lots of effort.

It’s hard to know what to make of that. Do you still strive for perfection while realizing it is unattainable? The answer has to be yes or at least has to be that you don’t give up completely and never try so that you never fail. Is it right to say it’s always unattainable? And does it even matter? What is perfection anyway? Does it even exist? Certainly there are many ways to make mistakes — mistakes which have the benefit of teaching you what not to do in the future. But the existence of wrong doesn’t imply the existence of right. Most things are shades of grey rather than black and white. But some shades are better and worse, not just different.

From where does the tendency to dwell on something you can’t change originate? The grown-up thing to do is to take as given what is given and proceed from there. Acting like a grown-up doesn’t automatically follow being a grown-up. If only it did.

Not knowing makes the future both exciting and terrifying. As time goes on uncertainty diminished because you can collect data points that allow you to compare past expectations with past results, to see how well you predicted the outcome, and to adjust future predictions accordingly. But when there’s no past data and thus no frame of reference the uncertainty can be crippling. Or invigorating.

What would life be if we knew the outcome ahead of time? If things were pre-ordained and we were mere actors reciting lines in a script it would be awful. It’s why I don’t believe in fate. At best, the concept of fate suggests that there is a script out there somewhere but we don’t know about it or haven’t read through the whole thing before starting to play it out again. That can’t be right but it suggests our choices are meaningless. The world is too complicated and human lives too intertwined for things to work that way. Belief if fate is disbelief in yourself. It excuses inaction. If things are bound to turn out the same way regardless of what we do, then why do anything? With no chance of failure, what’s the joy in success? At least when you feel pain you know you’re alive. “We took risks, we knew we took them, things have come out against us, therefore we have no cause for complaint.” Precisely.

five months of happiness and counting.

Batter my heart, three-person’d God, for you
As yet but knock, breathe, shine, and seek to mend;
That I may rise and stand, o’erthrow me, and bend
Your force to break, blow, burn, and make me new.
I, like an usurp’d town to’another due,
Labor to’admit you, but oh, to no end;
Reason, your viceroy in me, me should defend,
But is captiv’d, and proves weak or untrue.
Yet dearly’I love you, and would be lov’d fain,
But am betroth’d unto your enemy;
Divorce me,’untie or break that knot again,
Take me to you, imprison me, for I,
Except you’enthrall me, never shall be free,
Nor ever chaste, except you ravish me.

I have lately become obsessed with the operas of Benjamin Britten.  It’s weird how I migrate from composer to composer and find something new that interests me.  I never lose love or respect for the music I’m already familar with, but gaining a new body of works to appreciate adds something to my life.  It makes it better in a unique way that would’ve been impossible otherwise.  Imagine if I’d gone my whole life without become acquainted with them?  It’s a reason to continuously seek out as much new music as possible.

How I “discovered” Britten is a bit tangled.  Of course I’d heard of him and knew a few of his works.  (His Violin Concerto is excellent.)  But what caught my attention was the mutual respect between him and Shostakovich, who remains my favorite composer.  They struck up a friendship in the later years of both their lives, and one that was a bit odd given that it was the height of the Cold War and travel between the USSR and England was not always easy.  Anyway, on one visit, Britten gave Shostakovich an uncompleted score of “Death in Venice” to look over, and Shostakovich loved it.  That was enough for me to try to get a hold of a recording. 

As it turns out, Britten made a shitload of recordings of him conducting his own pieces — although not actually “Death in Venice” since he was very ill when it was finally produced.  I have found four box sets, two of his operas and two of his orchestral and church works; here’s an example.  They’re relatively cheap for the amount of material you get, so I got all four, and I’ve been blown away.

I’m not naturally an opera fan, but having the opera in English helps SO much.  You still can’t understand a lot of what they are saying, but it draws you into the story more and you can pick up more and more words as time goes on.  His operas are packed with creative instrumental writing not to mention excellent vocal settings of the text.  For example, A Midsummernight’s Dream contains nothing but Shakespeare’s original text (with the exception of one line, added to fill in background for a lot of the original Act I of the play, which was cut), but the musical settings are so inventive.  Oberon is played by a countertenor, which is this creepy male voice in the alto/lower soprano range, and has a couple haunting themes accompanied by the celesta.  Puck’s role is entirely spoken, but in rhythmic cadences and always with trumpet/tom-tom interspersed throughout.  The lovers and the woodsmen each have a distinctive style of music that goes with their scenes and fits perfectly.

I could go on.  I will say that “Billy Budd” and “Owen Wingrave” are my least favorite operas of the set — atlhough somtimes I warm up to things after a while, so I may yet change my mind.  But “Turn of the Screw” is haunting, with a twelve-tone theme that keeps come back in variation after variation; “Glorianna,” although a critical failure, is a fabulous story depicting the relationship between Queen Elizabeth I and the Earl of Essex and is one of my favorites.  And of course “Peter Grimes,” which is, luckily, playing in San Diego this year.

Not only was Britten friends with Shostakvoich, but also Rostroprovich, which prompted him to write a set of three excellent Solo Suites for Cello, as well as a Sonata for Cello.  (There is also a “Cello Symphony,” although I am not particularly fond of it.)  I was interested to learn recently that Rostroprovich was married to Galina Vishnevskaya, who was the intended soprano for the first performance of Britten’s “War Requiem,” and who has an unbelievaeably powerful voice.  (She didn’t end up making the premiere because the USSR wouldn’t let her out of the country for the performance, but she recorded it later in a performace included on the box sets mentioned earlier.)  I was also surprised to learn that she is the singer who plays the title role of the recording of Shostavkovich’s “Lady Macbeth of the Mtsensk District” that I have.  Small world.

The box sets also contain some recordings of Britten rehearsing the orchestra perform the taping of the “War Requiem.”  He didn’t know the tape player was still running, so it captures him as he naturally would be, and it’s charming to hear him interact with the orchestra and chorus.  He’s a conductor you’d want to play for.

The experience definitely has me on the lookout for other 20th century composers of operas in English.  John Adams’s Nixon in China is pretty damn good too.

I often wonder why.  There are a lot of things that take up time but don’t lead to anything tangible.  So what’s the point?  Travel strikes me as one.  You see new places, take pictures, ahd have fun, but then you’re back and it’s mostly forgotten.  You resume your daily life just as it was before.  Vacation in general seems a bit overrated as a way of making things better.  You run away from your regular life but when you come back you’re faced with the same problems, same worries, and same insecurities as before.  It does help you reset, like a release valve that allows pent up stress to escape.  But it’s not a long term solution, for when you return things start to build up again.  Releasing the pressure isn’t good because it let’s you continue on without ever confronting the underlying problem.

Another why is why try to be friends with someone after you learn that a relationship with them isn’t meant to be?  It seems like a reciepe for torturing yourself.  It’s an opportunity to be around the person, which gives you pleasure even if it is secret.  It is illusory, though, and that secret prevents it from being a real friendship and probably prevents you from ever being capable of real friendship with that person.  Another alternative is shunning the person, which seems unsatisfactory too.  So you are left in the awakward position of acquaintenceship.

How do you come to the realization that it isn’t meant to be?  Sometimes it is just a feeling.  Pessimism and lack of self-confidence skew perception and make it difficult to know whether that feeling reflects reality.  Yet it seems hopeless:  how could it possibly be; it has never worked out before so why should this be any different; is it even an option; if it were an option are there complications that would nix the deal.  Sometimes making the first move is simply not an option due to external constraints.  Those constraints can be convenient to someone already disinclined to make the first move.

A relationship is the one thing in life that I can see a clear answer to the question “why is this desirable.”  Going anywhere is better when you’re part of a pair.  Someone to talk to at intermission, make conversation with over a meal, be a partner in crime on excursions as varies as trips to the beach or the supermarket (or even a vacation!).  Love isn’t just a romantic ideal; it’s functional.

Which is not to say there is no place for being alone.  Just not all the time and for all of your life.

A number of events that are vexing and would be even more vexing if I have time to dwell on them:  Infatuation with an inappropriate person; having a stream of ugly people interested in me while a stream of attractive people are responsive but show no real enthuasism; being too fat; feeling like my life needs new direction but not having the energy or inspiration to redirect it.

One problem I have is that, where some things are concerned, I am an emotional child.  I didn’t have good social skills when I was younger.  I don’t now.  So I have far less experience interacting with people than is normal for my age, far less experience falling for someone than most people my age, and far less experience parsing that feeling, pursuing it (i.e., actually making it so someone might reciproacte), and far less experience dealing with rejection.  So I lash out.  I am impulsive.  I say inappropriate things.  I have inappropriate feelings.  Fascination becomes repulsion; happiness becomes despair; and on and on — all at the smallest shift in the winds, any tiny social cue that may not actually be a cue that I take as a slight.  And I am all too willing to assume the worst, never having had the best and not having enough self-confidence to believe I deserve anything more.

Emotional immaturity propels me into crushes.  And I move from one crush to the next.  I want to stop myself from doing something stupid on account of these crushes, but it is very, very hard.  Paradoxically, it also deprives me of any ability to make the first move, in any calculated, non-stupid way.

i love jim and pam together, and i found tonight’s episode of the office moving.  because jim LOVES pam in a very heartfelt way.  he’s not settling; he’s not in love with anything other than who she really is; his love is emphatic and driven.  it reminds me of levin’s declaration, upon seeing a fleeting image of kitty pass by in a carry, “i love HER.”  to have a feeling so forceful yet so true, so innocent and heartfelt.  how wonderful!

The priests kept on saying that Galileo
was dangerous and foolish.
But, as time has shown,
the fool was much wiser.
A certain scientist, Galileo’s contemporary,
was no more stupid than Galileo.
He knew that the earth revolved.
But he had a family.

i sometimes find it very difficult to determine what is real and what is wishful thinking.  because if it were real it would be great, but am i projecting what i want to so great an extent that it disguises what actually is.  and would anyone else see it my way?  if not, is it because they are unperceptive and wrong or because i am deluded?  there is no satisfactory way out.  there is no way to know for sure.  sitting and pining away is not a solution.  forgetting it sucks because if you resolve everything in life by forgetting about it eventually life itself passes you by entirely and you are dead.

Do you don’t you want me to love you
I’m coming down fast but I’m miles above you