bnh: (pensive)
I've spent most of the day curled up on my bed (at least I am not pregnant) reading about physics, from Aristotle to Gordon Kane (maybe he is well-known in the realm of physics, maybe not, I have no idea), and including: "Perhaps it seems surprising that physicists seek beauty but in fact they have no choice. As yet there has not been an exception to the rule that the demonstrable solution to any problem will turn out to be an aesthetic solution" (Gut Symmetries, Jeanette Winterson).

Grand unifying theories just seem like god, to me.

I've been doing a lot of thinking about god, lately, too, what with my New Testament class and Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, but mostly it is the Hebrew god that I've been thinking about, and how demanding he was. He was just as needy as the other gods, he too demanded steaming blood on the altar, is it just that gods are envious of our corporeality? I've always been fascinated by the evolution of sacrifice in the whole of the Christian Bible: the near-slaughter of Isaac to the blood of animals to the crucifixion of Jesus.

But now my head is spinning with things like Planck's constant and effective theories and grand unified theories, and I keep thinking about my secret attraction to science and math. I'm actually pretty good at science and algebra, but I declared my alliance to literature back when I thought there had to be divisions and I have stayed in that camp. Because of that, I was decidedly not a "math and science person" so I never really tried. I shone in anatomy & physiology, though, and I was pretty good at algebra. It is that old truism, the more I find out about, the more I find there is to find out about. This world is filled with so much, and there is beauty to be found in all of it.

Also: see this. This whole snake thing goes back further than I think.
bnh: (martyr)
The problem is, sometimes I want to cry (sometimes under the influence of estrogen or progesterone or some other premenstrual thing) and there's never one thing that'll do the trick. It's sometimes Casablanca and it's sometimes old journal entries, and it's sometimes a song even if I can never recall it, and it's sometimes abuse (more than I'd like to admit, it's abuse past or present), and it's sometimes nothing. It just never seems to be there when I actually want it.

And who ever thought that time would pass so quickly? Who could have predicted what happened? Who would've thought that this was how things would turn out? It's been almost three years (over three years, depending on what you're talking about), and it still hangs heavy on my heart sometimes, but this summer especially.

And we're almost there, funny how it takes a combination of things sometimes, and it's almost always memories.


bnh: (Default)

February 2008



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