2 or 3 things I know about her

Be eloquent in praise of the very dull old days which have long since passed away,
And convince ’em, if you can, that the reign of good Queen Anne was Culture’s palmiest day.
Of course you will pooh-pooh whatever’s fresh and new, and declare it’s crude and mean,
For Art stopped short in the cultivated court of the Empress Josephine.
And ev’ryone will say,
As you walk your mystic way,
“If that’s not good enough for him which is good enough for me,
Why, what a very cultivated kind of youth this kind of youth must be!”

Paitence, Gilbert & Sullivan

We hosted Richard Stallman two weeks ago. It is a strange experience to have a man whom you deeply admire, whose work has helped to drive you down the path your on, sitting in your living room at 12.30 at night answering emails on his laptop. A lot of feelings and thoughts run through your head, and the ones which manage to not cancel each other out, and make it to the tip of your tongue seem far short of anything of interest or importance.

I am making this entry more as a placeholder for when I will be able to write in an more intelligible fashion on the whirlwind of events and situations that enveloped our house, which seem to follow RMS like so many hopes & dreams.

In lieu of that future post I offer this Chassidic story:

The Rebbe was traveling in a train car between two European Cities when a gentleman, well-dressed and mannered, a throughly modern young man in every-way, asked for an audience. He had heard so much about the Rebbe and had so much to tell and ask him. He was granted his request and entered the compartment. They spoke for some time as he smoked a cigarette and the Rebbe puffed on his pipe. After his second cigarette the gentleman stood up and said curtly, “And all this time I have heard about an important thinker, modern, and vibrant. But I am sad to discover just the opposite!” The Rebbe laughed as he pocketed his pipe. The man looked at him aghast.

“Funny”, the Rebbe said, “I feel the same way.”