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| "It's a long way to heaven, it's closer to Harrissburg
But that's still a long way from the place where we are
and if heaven exists it's a pair of train tracks
and the devil is the railroad car" - Ritter
I used to be dissappoionted at these lyrics and the rest. I breathed them today, and almost nothing else, while continuously rewording in them what I finally understood:
One, we are unhappy where we are; we want more; we discover an honest need to seek. Two, our best happiness comes from loving home, attending to our momentary and particular allies, devoting ourselves to our familiar and intimate holdings. The railways and journeys explain themselves carefully and perfectly once you understand this.
Maybe his meaning is uninteded, but this thought is something I can
only see in him, Hugo, and Tolstoi. You understand it best in their
political dealings--in how easily their characters could have associated
with either side. Their temperaments land them loosely, unimportantly on one side, which does little to influence who they are, because both seeds are the two parts of us, wickedly united.
The scene? Notions of far-aways forsake
our divine endowments--("possibly everything; actually nothing")--but still
we can't stay
here, like this. We are suspended, which can possibly teach us true and natural happiness.
We can't go; we can't stay; so Christ called us out. This thought fell onto the side of "very profound Christian thoughts"--the side on which "Let not your left hand know what your right hand doeth" and "Jesus saw him and loved him" lies-- which is very near to the "very stupid Christian thoughts" side--on which completely different doctrines sounding about the same effervesce pathetically.
On closer look, I never chose to be a "believer" or "disbeliever," but twenty years of life has revealed higher mysteries than those contradictions which usually excite and incapacitate me. I believe because of this, I just don't know what.
I wanted to ask Pastor Steven why his eyes were like that, tired and swollen; what it is he is bearing; and why he can't speak of it. I remember how he told me all I need to know: to care for those with less than me, to hold accountable those above me, and to love deeply those closest to me. He never said it, but from all men like himself I realized how wisdom, not love, protects us, but only wisdom can love correct, and not the other way. For living in this incompassionate world of benevolence, complex but not complicated, to which I am called, I wanted his prayer and time; I coveted the strength he didn't have; I wished, hoped, prayed, doubted, decided. But he is like me.
I guess digesting half of Anna Karenina in two days made me notice things. I really just want to avoid three hard days of economics studying, want to avoid thinking about the events nearing me I shouldn't think about too much, want Mike to bring back icing for the cake I made, snowball fights, raquetball, marriage and sex, the best kind of drunkenness, wall street journal and more important work after that, reading Middlemarch for fun and Locke to figure out he bullshits, chances to learn any period of history or any poem...
I learned to not write angry replies to letters to editor today. I learned how gold prices influence the futures-spread of two new firms. I also did three really stupid things, lied twice, and hurt at least two people.
There are thoughts so much more intimate I don't want to write, don't want to admit for more than a second, can't even say to my journal, and until I can say these I feel stupid at the end of any other writing. Because we can write ourselves into hell, but erasing doesn't bring heaven.
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| leave it to me to
shake, shake away
the plasma screens
wired to our minds
like chains, fettered
to that old tree
eve ate of first
at the last point
before human race
and human birth
sent us to sand and seed
war and greed, fighting between
lust and need
please, the end is all I see
the end is running away
bending like the earth
towards its own end of time called
unseen, prophesized, impending renewal
to shake, shake away the plasma screens
wired behind the way we are
or rather, what we see
in a frail state of courage
trying to romanticize our way
past spiritless intangibles
like plasma screens,
they're all we see...all...we...see | | |
| Why I like Northwestern:
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Hi Nathan, Your grade will be A- if you choose not to write the final paper. However, writing an A paper will also give you an A in the class. The paper is due next Wednesday, and I posted the question on Blackboard.
-David
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David,
Professor Breen said he'd give me an A--without writing the final paper--because he likes me and all the animated conversations we've had. Does this still apply?
Nathaniel
ps - I love America
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Yes. Happy Memorial Day. You are a conservative prig.
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Why I hate Northwestern:
Dean Montgomery. Campus Police. Humidity. Ordinary Least Squares Regression. The English department. Vomit and alcohal scent. Rich jewish community. Too easy to beat the liberals. | | |
| The greatest lost track of all time:
The Late Greats' "Turpentine"
You can't hear it on the radio
You can't hear it anywhere you go
The best band will never get signed
K-Settes starring Butcher's Blind
Are so good, you won't ever know
They never even played a show
You can't hear 'em on the radio
The greatest singer in rock and roll
Would have to be Romeo
His vocal chords are made of gold
He just looks a little too old
The greatest lost track of all time:
The Late Greats' "Turpentine"
I can't hear it on the radio
I don't hear it anywhere I go
The best song will never get sung
The best life never leaves your lungs
So good, you won't ever know
I never hear it on the radio
Can't hear it on the radio | | |
| Friends,
I live in Chicago, IL now and attend Northwestern University. I mostly spend time in coffee shops, class, or somewhere on a very pretty campus. I study economics, which I hate, and on the side publish a politically conservative paper, which I enjoy. My favorite activies are boxing, music appreciation, writing, sports with raquents, downtown Chicago, and political involvement. Future plans include going to Marine boot camp this summer, iterning in D.C., and becoming a famous conservative politician/journalist. Vote for Brownback.
More intimate details on my life can be found at nzebrowski@gmail.com.
If you thought my last post was very poetic, I didn't write it, Wilco did. They are a great band. Most of their songs are better than songs most people listen to.
Brother Lawrence said, "Thinking often spoils everything and evil usually begins with our thoughts." Acts of the will mean everything, he said, and acts of the intellect or feeling very little.
I think David spent a lot of time trying to get his mind on the right things, and once he did, he was unstoppable. I catch hold of God's continual grace infrequently and surprisedly--probably twice a wek.
I feel a new, constant strain to turn my thoughts back to God, because the places they come from are wearisome. I think less for understanding things which themselves have no good about them, and try to change my thoughts to a desire for God's complete reordering of things. Giving us grace to live fully alive, and fully joyful, is his plan, and we learn this by taking every experience, good or bad, to have an eternity of value.
I remember switzerland with most of you somewhat clearly, and definetly know it and you were formative in my life. I hope you can say the same; i hope you leave me a nice comment about your life. | | |
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