My GTA position started yesterday. It looks like it will be fairly lowkey. I'm not teaching...just going to class, taking attendance, correcting papers and exams, maybe helping to monitor small group discussion. Oh, and some minor photocopying. All in nothing that will interfere too much with thesis work:)
I've begun reading Foucault. No doubt I'll move from my overload of posts on Deleue to an overload of posts on Foucault. Hold onto to your hats...
My dad called last night to wish me happy birthday. He told me this story: Your grandmother always said she was full blooded Native American. Her dad was on the tribal elders of the Passamaquoddy tribe in the North [of Maine].
Who knows if this is true. My family is on the dark side but I doubt if my grandmother was full-blooded as my Dad claims. Someone traced her to the MacArthur's who landed in Nova Scotia from Scotland. Someone married someone name Helen Smith (who is my great grandmother) there but there's no record of her birth, etc. I'm not sure if maybe somehow she moved to Maine and hooked up with the Passamaquoddy tribe? My dad also my grandmother remembers going to the reservation with her father who is listed as an MacAruthur. It's so convulted...these memories and stories.
And finally a wonderful quote about vinyl from the dark mind of John Rebus via Ian Rankin. For a bit of context, Rebus is left his brother's albums after his brother's death.
I've begun reading Foucault. No doubt I'll move from my overload of posts on Deleue to an overload of posts on Foucault. Hold onto to your hats...
My dad called last night to wish me happy birthday. He told me this story: Your grandmother always said she was full blooded Native American. Her dad was on the tribal elders of the Passamaquoddy tribe in the North [of Maine].
Who knows if this is true. My family is on the dark side but I doubt if my grandmother was full-blooded as my Dad claims. Someone traced her to the MacArthur's who landed in Nova Scotia from Scotland. Someone married someone name Helen Smith (who is my great grandmother) there but there's no record of her birth, etc. I'm not sure if maybe somehow she moved to Maine and hooked up with the Passamaquoddy tribe? My dad also my grandmother remembers going to the reservation with her father who is listed as an MacAruthur. It's so convulted...these memories and stories.
And finally a wonderful quote about vinyl from the dark mind of John Rebus via Ian Rankin. For a bit of context, Rebus is left his brother's albums after his brother's death.
Rebus had waved him good-bye and stared at the gift. Then he'd eased himself down onteh floor beside the boxes and started going through them: a mono Sergeant Pepper,Let It Bleed with the Ned Kelly poster, a lot of Kinks and Taste and Free...some Van der Graaf and Steve Hillage. There were even a couple of eight-track cartridges--Killer by Alice Cooper; a Beach Boys album. A treasure trove of memories. Rebus placed the sleeves beneath his nose--the very smell of them took his back in time. Warped Hollies singles, left too long on the turntable after a party...a copy of "Silver Machine" with Mickey's writing on it--This Belongs to Michael Rebus--Paws Off!!!
And Quadrophenia, of course, its corners creased, the vinyl scarred but still playable.
3 comments:
One's heritage/origin as intriguing and convoluted as a record collection?
*From my office on campus where I should be preparing a Spanish lesson for Thursday, and about to go into a classroom to teach my first class in almost four months.
Killer 8-track!
You write: "My family is on the dark side..." And you're right about that but i also need to add that all origins of anyone's heritage are "on the dark side" as well.
So to me, this is a beautiful example of how muddy and unclear (mixing imagination, the virtual and desire) all origins are, how fantastic and great stories the search for origins yields.
On a side note I always thought you looked like some of the people (although i only met a couple) that came from the Old Town area in Maine.
Quadrophenia! my fave track from that album is definetely "Drowned":
There are men high up there fishing,
Haven't seen quite enough of the world,
I ain't seen a sign of my hero,
And I'm still diving down for pearls.
Let me flow into the ocean,
Let me get back to the sea.
Let me be stormy and let me be calm,
Let the tide in, and set me free.
I'm flowing under bridges,
Then flying through the sky,
I'm travelling down cold metal
Just a tear in baby's eye.
Let me flow into the ocean
Let me get back to the sea
Let me be stormy and let me be calm
Let the tide in, rush over me.
I am not the actor
This can't be the scene
But I am in the water,
As far as I can see...
I'm remembering distant memories
Recalling other names.
Rippling over canyons,
And boiling in the train.
(and not just because Phish covers this song fantabulously),
hugs & love,
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