And Carl Jung And Old Kung Fu Movies (I Like 2 C) (B)*
I've lived in 7 different houses in the past 5 years and to all but one of these wondrous abodes I've dragged a copy of I Ching. I dragged around a few other books I fully intended to read to further blow up my intellectual balloon too but these, like I Ching, were never devoured by my eye sockets.
Today was a very standard day, I woke up 5 minutes BEFORE I should have left the house brushed my teeth, had a shower and arrived at work 20 minutes late. I texted Bossman man 20 minutes AFTER I should have left the house to inform him of my impending tardiness though, so that's okay right? Thank god I'm currently in very, very loose employment. The rest of the day went smoothly but with a hint of surreality. Bossman and I were working in Wrexham* for a client who is currently going with The Mothership. Bossman, currently married to but separated from The Mothership, probably has inkling that this union is afoot which coloured today with a dark and confusing humour. Not present today was Mushroom Man. His absence confuses me more and more these days since he definitely needs the money more than I do. But we can't complain.
The day moved on nicely with the client (Benz) even preparing a sausage sandwich for my lunch. What a supreme customer. As per usual I weeded, I kneeled and I dragged twigs, branches and bric-a-brac galore to Bossman's trailer but the time seemed to fly by. Nice one Benz, must've been the sausages, crisps and Lidl diet cola (anything that is not official coke shall not be called coke; the imitations always have that "we tried to copy the recipe and failed" aftertaste). And the glute-free log of course. That was particularly spectacular.
I've realised this has turned into a multi-paragraph epic about my day. Great.
After my triumphant return home I took a shower and, as usual, started looking at myself in the mirror of my boudoir for an extended time for no real reason. There's a negligible motive concerning vanity whenever I do this, I'm not sure of the other inspirations. But upon snapping back to reality and wupping there goes gravity my eyes cast down to the row of books under the mirror. There it was. I Ching. The mystical book of which I'd conducted no research and only ever read the blurb. It's an attractive blurb, that's why I've dragged it round for so long. At long last I delved in. I skim read the preface by the son (?) of the translator. I learned that the language manipulator, a German by the name of Richard Wilhelm, was the first translator of I Ching to try and make the text understandable to the layman. Being a layman myself I find this encouraging. I then flicked to the foreward by C. G. Jung, a man I'd only really heard about in "The Irony of It All"*
And after 4 years of not reading I Ching, I was engrossed. Engrossed not by the mystical hexagrams and the tings and the tungs but by Jung's attempt at explaining the difference between Western causality and Eastern "synchronicity" as Jung calls it. I'm still not on form so it was quite a challenging read. I had to read and re-read bits again and again but each repetition was enjoyable - an odd sensation for someone who usually gets more frustrated than entertained by his own failure to comprehend sentences.
I haven't got anywhere near the actual subject matter of I Ching of course. I went off on a frenzied Wikipedia rampage and found out about The Red Book (and its unwieldy cost) and the origins of Myers-Briggs and now I'm torrenting Jung's complete works in both txt and PDF format.
On Friday 13th March 2015 a particularly strange event place between myself and my subconscious that altered the way I see the world. It led me to 28 days in Jeynes Place and ultimately it led me to the day I had today. You remember, the smooth one with the sausage sandwich. Some of the ideas that came out of that strange event, which we will call "Blob Night", are eerily similar to synchronicity and another of Jung's concepts known as "collective unconscious". I have a distinct feeling that I'm on the road to becoming a Jungian. But between then and now I'll probably read 5 other books before I finish getting my head around I Ching and then read a few more from Philosopher's Notes TV before finally studying any of Jung's writings. When I do get there though, I'll verbalise my interpretations and put them on here. Deal? Deal.
It's 23:50 and I should have gone to bed an hour and twenty ago. And I still haven't texted Jaguar to tell him I'm going to phone him tomorrow. And I still haven't done any web development. Let's read something about CSS3 and call it a night shall we.
p.s. Wrexham is a town that sits particularly close to my heart for two big reasons. They shall remain nameless except in pseudonym format: Sorrow Lady and Lizard
p.p.s. How lovely is Gail Porter
p.p.p.s 2CB just made me giggly
Today was a very standard day, I woke up 5 minutes BEFORE I should have left the house brushed my teeth, had a shower and arrived at work 20 minutes late. I texted Bossman man 20 minutes AFTER I should have left the house to inform him of my impending tardiness though, so that's okay right? Thank god I'm currently in very, very loose employment. The rest of the day went smoothly but with a hint of surreality. Bossman and I were working in Wrexham* for a client who is currently going with The Mothership. Bossman, currently married to but separated from The Mothership, probably has inkling that this union is afoot which coloured today with a dark and confusing humour. Not present today was Mushroom Man. His absence confuses me more and more these days since he definitely needs the money more than I do. But we can't complain.
The day moved on nicely with the client (Benz) even preparing a sausage sandwich for my lunch. What a supreme customer. As per usual I weeded, I kneeled and I dragged twigs, branches and bric-a-brac galore to Bossman's trailer but the time seemed to fly by. Nice one Benz, must've been the sausages, crisps and Lidl diet cola (anything that is not official coke shall not be called coke; the imitations always have that "we tried to copy the recipe and failed" aftertaste). And the glute-free log of course. That was particularly spectacular.
I've realised this has turned into a multi-paragraph epic about my day. Great.
After my triumphant return home I took a shower and, as usual, started looking at myself in the mirror of my boudoir for an extended time for no real reason. There's a negligible motive concerning vanity whenever I do this, I'm not sure of the other inspirations. But upon snapping back to reality and wupping there goes gravity my eyes cast down to the row of books under the mirror. There it was. I Ching. The mystical book of which I'd conducted no research and only ever read the blurb. It's an attractive blurb, that's why I've dragged it round for so long. At long last I delved in. I skim read the preface by the son (?) of the translator. I learned that the language manipulator, a German by the name of Richard Wilhelm, was the first translator of I Ching to try and make the text understandable to the layman. Being a layman myself I find this encouraging. I then flicked to the foreward by C. G. Jung, a man I'd only really heard about in "The Irony of It All"*
And after 4 years of not reading I Ching, I was engrossed. Engrossed not by the mystical hexagrams and the tings and the tungs but by Jung's attempt at explaining the difference between Western causality and Eastern "synchronicity" as Jung calls it. I'm still not on form so it was quite a challenging read. I had to read and re-read bits again and again but each repetition was enjoyable - an odd sensation for someone who usually gets more frustrated than entertained by his own failure to comprehend sentences.
I haven't got anywhere near the actual subject matter of I Ching of course. I went off on a frenzied Wikipedia rampage and found out about The Red Book (and its unwieldy cost) and the origins of Myers-Briggs and now I'm torrenting Jung's complete works in both txt and PDF format.
On Friday 13th March 2015 a particularly strange event place between myself and my subconscious that altered the way I see the world. It led me to 28 days in Jeynes Place and ultimately it led me to the day I had today. You remember, the smooth one with the sausage sandwich. Some of the ideas that came out of that strange event, which we will call "Blob Night", are eerily similar to synchronicity and another of Jung's concepts known as "collective unconscious". I have a distinct feeling that I'm on the road to becoming a Jungian. But between then and now I'll probably read 5 other books before I finish getting my head around I Ching and then read a few more from Philosopher's Notes TV before finally studying any of Jung's writings. When I do get there though, I'll verbalise my interpretations and put them on here. Deal? Deal.
It's 23:50 and I should have gone to bed an hour and twenty ago. And I still haven't texted Jaguar to tell him I'm going to phone him tomorrow. And I still haven't done any web development. Let's read something about CSS3 and call it a night shall we.
p.s. Wrexham is a town that sits particularly close to my heart for two big reasons. They shall remain nameless except in pseudonym format: Sorrow Lady and Lizard
p.p.s. How lovely is Gail Porter
p.p.p.s 2CB just made me giggly
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