A nightmare network of ganglia, charged and firing without my knowledge, cuts and splices what I do see, editing it for my brain. (21)
Annie Dillard, "Seeing," Pilgrim at Tinker Creek (1974)
Question: Where in the conductive cuts and splices do the ganglia end, the brain begin, the seeables stand apart, quarantined in their viewspace?
For Rhetsy, a five2 list of givers whose giving has thinned.
I realize the call invited lists of five; this one, rules tweaked, turned out five-squarish because there are just too many givers giving in the world.
Feedlied across this snapshot of John Feathers' vast collection of maps, city guides (mostly from Los Angeles), and pamphlets--an innocuous archive or impressive case of cartographic hoarding, I don't know. The archive, its unusual ordinariness, its scale, its discovery, all of this is interesting, or passingly so for map enthusiasts, the sharpest thumbtack of this piece for my thinking is from the video, the note near the end about the memorial function of maps, their capacity for temporal-affective relocation, their dormant-until-brightly-lit teleportation function: when-where, an interlacing of spacetime. After the pragmatic, what do maps want more than this?
08/14 11:46 AM/@derekmueller: Tikes one table over in heated discussion about whether pinky or thumb is more useful digit. Younger one--Charlie--makes convincing arguments about pinky's usefulness for dabbing, tasting crumb-sized portions, like extraneous salt. via Facebook
08/05 01:46 PM/@derekmueller: Syllabus is almost ready for one of the classes I'm teaching in the fall, Introduction to What A Mess. via Facebook
08/01 05:31 PM/@derekmueller: After an afternoon-long skating rink birthday party, which one fades away first: the boom thump of bass-boosted pop hits or the lingering everywhere-skated sweatsmell of all ages and sizes sweatfeet? via Facebook