Across the highwaying, it autumned. A very bad rendering of Borges' invented language. In the shadow of Selmin, I am digging into another shadow: Borges. I might as well become an owl. I fell in love with 'Tlon, Uqbar, Orbis Tertius,'' a story about language. Here is part of the review: "In 'Tlon, Uqbar, Orbis Tertius', perhaps the height of philosophical playfulness as literature, Borges invents an orderly alternative way of thinking and talking. He sets down the principles of a language in which there are no nouns, only ''impersonal verbs, modified by monosyllabic suffixes (or prefixes) functioning as adverbs.'' '' 'The moon rose above the river' is 'hlor u fang axaxaxas mlo,' or, as Xul Solar succinctly translates: Upward, behind the onstreaming it mooned.'' Marvelous." Yes, marvelling. Before learning this imaginary language, though, I have to improve my basic French, and hone my poor Turkish. Sunday evening. Sitting alone on my favorite French-country-style wooden table, enjoying the great pastoral view across our spacious balcony. No fireplace. :) The romance of the spectacle is intermittently disturbed by long convoys of wailing ambulances... Our apartment overlooks an upscale neighborhood, Belle Haven, an 'American dream' collection of houses and mansions, buried under a thick veil of autumn extravaganza. I realize it is almost December. Yet one more autumn is passing by, almost unnoticed, in all its earthy hues and whispering. I find myself yearning for the profound - to me almost unworldly - serenity of those aging giant trees. From where I stand, I see nothing but a leafy sequel of yellow, brown, ruby petals; naked branches breathing fresh air across the busy highway. Today is my 'no coffee' day; fighting insomnia. Lots of things passing through my mind as I scribble down today's monologue. The current state of affairs in this country (and how little I can do to change the reality, in fact, how indifferent I am) and my job search (I am not despairing yet)...."Nothing shows a man's character more than what he laughs at."
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe