leonardcohenforum.com

biochemistry - yeah, that's what I meant.
Tough stuff!

I have a mental block against the word.
It was the toughest course I ever took -
-an independent study in organic chemistry.

Or course it didn't help that I had never taken any chemistry course before it.
And I always waste a lot time working out natural math questions.
In that case it was the obvious little topology questions.
So I should have waited to read about that kind of thing somewhere else.
But I can't wait for those things.

Now I can't remember if I dropped out of it, or aced it and flunked everything else.
(All my grades were either Fs or As.)

Laurie,

what do you think of a poem that puts on par a birthmark above one's knee to being born blind?

I think it is strangely challenging
powerful
it forces the reader into the author's experience/mind
it is (obliquely) a comment on the power of vanity
and egocentricity
"headupyourarseosis"..... imbalance
(and therefore fits in perfectly with Plath and the Big N.
one sitting in a cold room wasting his life
and the other dwelling on misery
both avoiding the sunshine)
and it works.

You should love that line of Manna's AA/L!

Matj

Back to my freakin tag-line. Ridiculous. Everything I know about Nietzsche is wrapped up in that line, it is you burdened with the details of his life, not me.

As for 'that' line, I hope that Manna can see the bad choice made in that comparison (which is why I brought it up).

regards,
Laurie

Thank you, thank you, thank you all, for I have done nothing but laugh as I read this page. First of all, I should apologize for calling myself a biochemist. I am not, there are really few true biochemists left. I am a molecular biologist.

Organic chemistry is a whole other thing, and that you took it as an independent study only serves to increase my admiration for you. The only independent studies I ever took (that I got academic credit for, I mean, because life is often an idependent study) were art classes. Art classes always seemed like independent studies anyway, so I just freed my time for when to attend.

OK. So.

Most Chemistry is the study of electrons. How do electrons move around? (This doesn't include nuclear chemistry, and beyond that nuclear chemistry includes certain kinds of bombs and radioactivity, I don't know anything about it.) So when we do chemistry, we watch chemical reactions and how that changes the chemical proporties of things.

Organic chemistry is the chemistry of organic molecules. Organic molecules are basically those that have lots of carbon, and they have their own special college classes to explain the reations they do. But it's still chemistry. Not biology.

Biochemistry is the same as regular chemistry, except that the chemistry is accomplished by enzymes which act as catalysts inside and outside cells. Therefore it has its own rules, but most of those rules are derived from regular chemistry. We're still watching electrons move around. We're still figuring out the reaction schemes, transition states, and that sort of thing. Just in the context of an enzyme's active site.

I do molecular biology. I think the best way to explain MB is using the legos analogy. Legos have a certain protocol for interacting. You can build anything your heart desires using legos, but the chemical properties of the legos remain unchanged until you set the whole business to flame or pour acetone (maybe) on it, etc. See? I study how biological macromolecules use a protocol to interact and keep us alive. Well, not really, I study how they keep fruit flies alive, but we're pretty much the same as fruit flies in this regard, so it's OK.

This may seem off-topic, but I believe it is the most important contribution I could make to the thread today. At the risk of sounding like a braggart, I got As in all these courses. The only non-As I got were in animal behavior (and it wasn't because I didn't learn animal behavior, but we don't need to get into that, but it wasn't what may come to mind) and in sociology, and that was because I was an immature brat. I was never bold enough to get an F.


=============

Here is where I think the phrase "like one born blind" came from. I had a blind friend once who you could easily forget was blind. He was the only person I have ever known who was blind, and it didn't seem like a big deal for his life. He went right on living, finding a way. It's my only frame of reference. Maybe the line is inappropriate for those outside my experience. And I think the situation where one has had sight to lose is much harder. But for Bobby, being blind was just part of being, nothing to credit or blame.

Just a note, Manna. I listened to a segment on a book regarding a man who regained his sight, having lost it at a very early age [three, maybe?]... or gained it, never having had it. So many other scenarios were discussed and mentioned that I've forgotten which one related to the author. However, it was much talked about, how people long-blind have been so disappointed with what they've 'gained,' having gained sight, that it's more than you might expect, led to depression and even suicide. Very interesting aspects of their new world, like depth perception, etc. were discussed, too... too many to mention, really. It was a good segment, though... and I don't know if it relates to your poem, at all ... thanks for the breakdown of all these fields of study.


~ Lizzy

Manna wrote:and that was because I was an immature brat.

I don't believe that for a second. You must be pulling my lego.
I think you must always have been the mature brat that
you are now.

~
So you're saying that we-all here are just fruit flies
on the succulent rotting pomes of Mr Cohen?
Is that what you're saying?

~~

Back when they thought I was crazy because I hated war,
they ran a bunch of tests on me, I guess because they
just wanted to know how anyone could possibly feel that way.

It all culminated in several months of real true-blue
full-blown psychoanalysis. Which I very much enjoyed.

The guy was blind. But he was hands down the most
insightful person I have ever met. And he taught me a lot.

When I asked him about his blindness, he told me
to close my eyes tight. And he asked me what I saw.
And I said, basically, darkness, blackness, with splotches
of dim lights floating around.

But he said it's not like that at all. It is much more
like what's behind your head.

So that's how I reacted to "Like one born blind".
Simply as being oblivious to the associations of
all three women.

And a very good thing too, to not be burdened by
those kinds of expectations while growing up.
To be aware of them would have stifled the immature
brat in you. And then you would have made the grade
and become a sociologist instead of a molecular biologist.
And then you never would have "come to Cohen"
and write the poem.

This is called "the blind butterfly effect."

This is called "the blind butterfly effect."

Bingo .

A beautiful Mannarch, I believe . Very colourful .


~ Lizzy

~greg wrote:So you're saying that we-all here are just fruit flies
on the succulent rotting pomes of Mr Cohen?
Is that what you're saying?

Yes. That's what I'm saying. Do you like dew?

Well, I suppose I'm the only one who'll get that joke, so I better explain. Drosophila is the latin name for the genus of fruit flies. It means "dew-loving."

and he wrote:So that's how I reacted to "Like one born blind".
Simply as being oblivious to the associations of
all three women.

I was hoping there was some of something like this in there, and I'm glad you said it instead of me. We just went to a movie, and on the drive I was trying to remember what had brought me to invoke blindness in the first place, and I think it originated in a similar set of thoughts. I wasn't really blind to it growing up, but I was never embarrassed by it. My friend (the one who joined the circus), once drew a Mr. Potato Head face on it.

In your psychoanalysis did they ever ask you this: if you were an insect, what insect would you be? I know my answer, and I am at peace with it. I'm a blind Mannarch Butterfly. Is that much different from being a fruit fly? We're all insects, brothers and sisters.

Dad?

Look.
Silvia Plath, in that poem I quoted, compared a kid to a "blind mirror".
Because the kid was blisfully oblivious to what she saw reflected in its face,
Right?

And you, in your poem, were talking about 3 women (fates?)
who were really only seeing themselves reflected, as in a mirror,
while the kid (you) were blissfully "blind" to all that.
Right?

Get it?
It's the same thing!

~
So if Laurie can fault you for that simile,
then she has to fault Plath for it too.

Which, I was thinking, she might be less inclined to do.

But the truth is I don't know if Plath means any more to her than Nietzsche.
While I do know that I did get the impression that she is not
likely to change her attitudes about anything, once they've set.

Which did have something to do with why I responded
to this thread in the first place.

I responded to this thread because it seemed to me that
Laurie was not simply being "critical and not praising".
(There is no law of symmetry about a need to balance criticism with praise.)

But Laurie's criticism was not just relentlessly negative.
It was also forced and artificial. And ridiculous.
Almost like a parody of criticism. And all the more so
with each subsequent statement of it.

Which his why I said "you've got to be kidding."
Because I thought that might actually be the case.

As I said, I only speed-read these things
And after I read this particular thing a little more carefully,
then I noticed a winky in there somewhere.
And then Laurie admitted that her criticism was not,
as I thought not, about the poem itself,
or even about you being overly smitten by your poem,
but was really about some incident involving a troll named 'huck'.

And then you said:
"for I have done nothing but laugh as I read this page."

Obviously, I should not have said anything.
~~

And no, this is not "my kind of poetry."
Nor is Plath. But I did enjoy this poem.
And I have enjoyed Plath's poetry.

Because I don't just read "my kind of poetry."
I read poetry and watch movies and listen to music
and stare at pictures and talk with people- because
I am interested in people. All kinds of people.
In other words, not just myself.

I tend to (and try to) take people at face value. And I think it is (or can be) a fault. Of mine. It makes me come off as very serious, especially when people around me are being clever and I don't get it. And I often don't get it.

I'm no good at understanding people, especially clever people. I can't tell what they may be thinking behind what they've said, and if they're clever, they're probably thinking because that is what clever people do. I should remember to ask when I get confused, but I fear I would end up contorting myself into a permanent question mark. (All those broken bones would be mightily uncomfortable.)

I assumed you were talking to me, trying to tell me something with this Plath poem, and I couldn't figure out what. I thought that since I made it known you said something I had thought, that you were likening me to the child here who unknowingly yet lovingly follows around the thought of his invisible papa. Or something. Me, the happy puppy, with my little panting tongue and big eyes. It didn't feel very good, and I wanted to lie and show that I didn't care if you thought of me this way, so I tried to be funny. Again. I'm glad you responded to the thread, regardless your reasons, because you used the word...

great.

And even though it isn't really true, I allowed it to be for a second, and I let you stroke-stroke-stroke my ego. Maybe someday I'll write a great one, until then, don't stop telling me I already have. OK? This one is in the notebook, which means I'll come back to it someday and re-edit it. Again. Probably. I like this one, yes. Great? No. And I know that a poem is made of wood pulp and ink, and that it can never love me back.

If you, Laurie, were being goofy in your analysis of my poem, I didn't get it. Can someone please please please please please just be f***ing straight with me? I'm no good at figuring out you clever people. Especially when you don't use emoticons.

(btw, I thought that tattoo ditty was amazing. Really good stuff. I just wasn't quick enough to comment & analyze, and I didn't make myself a copy, and now you've deleted it. Grumble grumble grumble.) But I've only been paying much attention to you since the thing with Huckleberry, so I don't know you well at all yet, except for some of the other group-dynamic stuff that I am actually trying really hard (not hard enough) to find a way not to talk about.

Urgh! Barf! Anyway...

I don't know what kind of things you would say, and if I should take you as meaning what you say or not. When the answer is not, it gets difficult, because then I have to figure out when the answer is no and when it's yes. Because people can't always mean the opposite of what they say. Yeah? Well, maybe some can. Some pathologically ironic person. Are you pathologically ironic? And how should I take the answer to that question?

bile them cabbage down...
::::: Please understand me. I don't understand anything. I'm sorry to be such a self-centered git. But maybe now you know some of my faults a little better, and maybe that has some value. :::::

Please also know that I mean everything I say, except when I don't. Clear? OK.

love,
Manna

Well.

Sorry I was such a grumpy grouch yesterday. I don't know what was behind it. Wish I'd gone for a walk. I haven't been getting enough sleep, and that's always a good excuse.

Hi Manna ~

I thought of you the morning I left Florida to fly to Michigan for the 'official' beginning of my holiday. The unofficial beginning was staying in the motel the night before, so as to be closer to the airport for a 6 AM flight.

When the taxi dropped me off, it was beneath the sign "Monarch" and I thought, "I must remember to tell her this." Nice name for an airline don't you think? Since they are known for tirelessly flying very long distances to reach their destination.

Keep going the distance, Mannarch .


~ Lizzy

Thanks, Lizzy. I just saw this today.

I've been riding my bike to school, and I shower at one of the fitness centers on campus here. This morning in the locker room, I saw a woman with a birthmark in almost the same place as mine. Hers was a little smaller, darker and closer to the knee, and I said something intelligent like, "Huh!" I was tempted to ask if anyone had ever made a prophecy to her about it, but I didn't want to be too personal like that the first time I met her. I didn't even get her name. Maybe I'll see her again sometime. Funny, but I remember her birthmark more clearly than I remember her face.