Prelude No. 15 (in C-major) OR winter takes fall

November 3 OR what joy it’ll bring!

I started reading Ulysses today. Stately, plump Buck Mulligan came from the stairhead, bearing a bowl of lather on which a mirror and a razor lay crossed et cetera et cetera et cetera. I’ve always wanted to read, or pretend to read, an impressive book like Ulysses. That is why I read in parks and cafés and buses and et cetera: I wish to be seen. (“Isn’t that Andrew sitting by himself, reading?” “What a loser.”) I was in the Språk och Litteratur centre today, loitering, when it occurred to me that I ought to do something dangerous. We all have our own understandings of words. For others, dangerous denotes something actually dangerous. For me, and James Dean before me, it is borrowing a book from the library (and then returning it a day late).

November 13 - 16 OR Stockholm

Where is the furthest north you have ever been? Bowen? Ayr? Tully? The answer is, of course: nowhere, directions are relative. Nevertheless, I have been to Stockholm. A more beautiful and more northern city I have never seen. No words can describe its wonder or enchantment, except wonder and enchantment, respectively. I especially enjoyed the followings nouns: castle, bridge, alley, valley, gallery, harbour, boat, and brew. Stockholm is a city of islands; http://www.maps.google.com/.

I stayed in a hostel in Södermalm with Lukas, Vasco, and Wally, whom you may recall from my earlier adventures. We drove to Stockholm on Friday and returned on Monday. Actually, Lukas did all the driving—he was doing very well until he turned on the engine. Vasco, bringer of cake, was the navigator. Wally, eater of cake, rarely moves between meals, and slept for most of the journey. I forget what I did, but it wasn’t fun. We stopped by the lake near Jönköping to enjoy the view. We did not, however, predict early fall of night, which occurred on or near the stroke of noon. Consequently, we did not enjoy the view.

We walked the streets of Stockholm. In a Viking bar we mulled a mulled brew; in the Vasamuseet we watched a ship fall, and rise; in the modern art gallery we saw Dali become himself.

November 4/11/18/25 OR nothing left for me to do but DANCE

I’m a party animal. Four weeks in a row, I’ve been to VGs night club. The first three times, I went with my Swiss/German/Belgian friends from Östra Torn. On all three occasions, we said we’d better get there earlier else we’ll have to wait in the queue, and on all three occasions we were the first in the club. There is nothing more embarrassing that being the first person in a night club, except being me on any other occasion. Nevertheless, I come out so the party gets started. So, now, I live only by the night. I live by the day, too, but as Superman.

November 3 - December 2 OR philosophising with a hammer

I am about to complete the second in a trilogy of international courses: advanced ecology, philosophy of science, theoretical ecology. Ipso facto, for the past month, I have been otherwise engaged with the philosophy of science. Most of my colleagues from advanced ecology are now studying evolutionary advanced ecology. When I told them I was studying philosophy of science they gave the same look a mother gives when she finds out her son is stupid. So, now I tell everyone I study super-science.

Actually, philosophy of science is very interesting. I’ve always wanted to be a philosopher, but I’d rather be handsome. Lately, I have taken to questioning morals. My philosophical enquiries, however, take the form of a Seinfeld bit. “So what’s the deal with the categorical imperative? What's so imperative about it? I mean, it’s not like we’re purifying concepts in a moral blender.”

Also lately, I have been reading Nietzsche, which is devastating and beautiful. Mostly, I read Nietzsche for the café effect I mentioned earlier. Which reminds me: I never did finish Ulysses...