June 23rd, 2005

laszlo moholy-nagy_chx

Naked Moon Nights

What with the brief nights and the alluring moon and the nostalgic woolgathering which this warm season induces, there is very little time left for the Internets, and even less for writing. There is furthermore the fact that, while the very hot weather to come will diminish my appetite, this moderately hot period with cooler nights has the opposite effect, and I thus spend much of the night foraging for snacks. I'm going to have to pick up some of that tasty no-sugar-added ice cream, I think. It's quicker than making a batch of waffles or a bowl of popcorn.

I think that I might have missed a visit by deer, despite the fact that I spent much of the night outdoors. By morning light I see that the number of roses on the bushes along the street has been reduced. The deer must have come by and had their snack while I was busy in the kitchen making one of mine.

Happier news is that the tiny gray spider who is still sitting on my wall is not dead. I saw it move a couple of its legs a while ago. I'm amazed that it can remain practically motionless day after day. I still have no idea what it eats. I'm beginning to think that it might be living on my dead skin cells that flake off and drift over to its position. Maybe its an offshore arachnid parasite of some sort. Or, as its presence provides me with some pleasure, maybe it should be considered a symbiont. In either case, it does no harm that I can see. I just hope it hasn't hypnotized me.

I was going to stick some links with lots of accompanying verbiage in this post, but the time is short. I'll drop most of the verbiage, and most of the links:

Today, new Federal regulations go into effect that will criminalize just about everybody who maintains a sexually explicit image stored on any American server, unless they have proof of the age of the person or persons depicted in the image. The images can be granny porn, but you still have to be able to prove that granny is at least 18. The maximum sentence for not being able to prove granny is at least 18 will be ten years in prison. Read the regulations here.

I find it interesting that the Wired News article is headlined "Blue Law Makes Webmasters See Red." Semi-clever wordplay, but it misuses the term Blue Law which originally only described laws prohibiting businesses from operating on Sunday. Ah, the language blurs away while the government spends a fortune trying to make smutty pictures go away. I wonder of the two are related?


Is it strange that I can already sense the decline of the year? A Mediterranean climate brings dessication when the evenings are yet long and spring rains are but recently departed. A few hot, dry days are sufficient to give the landscape a disheveled appearance, inducing in the observer a sense of melancholy which, in damper climes, would not arrive until autumn. The air carries that scent that is peculiar to grass when it is beginning to turn brown- a mixture of decay and dustiness. Neither the scent nor the mood is repellent, but they are certainly more conducive to brooding on mortality than to lighthearted thoughts.

It is different near the coast, where cooling afternoon breezes are apt to bring rich and energizing oceanic odors, redolent of life. Here in this inland realm, the streams grow sluggish, and the swaths of land between them display an almost early-autumnal quality, lying quiet and shaggy, like an old lady napping beneath a worn shawl knitted in shades of yellow and brown, and a bit of fading green. The hazed afternoon sun falls as though through dusty window sheers unmoved by any breeze. It is the essence of desuetude.

Evening brings some relief, as the heat rises and draws a cooler air from the forests. The slightest rustle of leaves is like a sigh. Night remembers spring long after the days have forgotten it. The crickets begin to chirp and the jasmine releases its perfume, driving out the melancholy thoughts. The dryness of the landscape is concealed, and can be forgotten for a while in the soft moonlight. I can almost smell the distant sea.