I hope you’re sitting down,
as you read this, for what I am about to write will no doubt shock you. I have goofed.
I was imagining a bit of a break for myself today but instead have made
twice the work for my tired mind. I
would like to say that I have 事半功倍[1]
but we have already introduced this particular chengyu week’s ago, so let’s just say that I feel a bit 愚昧无知[2]
If you look back a few posts you’ll notice something called
“Summary 20.” I arbitrarily decided to
summarize a few items that are regularly featured on DustyBrine, every
twentieth posting. This daily pace is a
torrid clip and I want to ritualize a bit of harvesting. Certain features on this blog will be
consistent every time. Every post has at least one chengyu, like those listed above.
Chengyu are Chinese idiomatic
expressions, generally involving four characters that often harken back to
classical Chinese but are very important in contemporary vernacular. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chengyu Look for one, and the footnote explanation, every time. And where appropriate I’ll make sure there’s
a link to more information, like I just did.
The dust of DustyBrine is anchored in the abundant yellow
soil of continental China. (Would that
the dust would stay anchored rather than stalking my and my family’s lungs,
particulate.) The chengyu are a rigor, a discipline to always ground these postings
in the local soil, regardless of where we fly off to like Selcuk, Turkey or
Brownsville Brooklyn. The brine of
course, is the sea. That interface of
dry yellow, continental soil and salty blue, oceanic spray is the crossroads
that this space invokes. Welcome.
Historically China never looked to the sea for much beyond
salt, seafood, and the elixir of life.
Dangers came on horseback from the west and the northwest. (Mongols, Khitian, Turkic, etc.)
Civilizations worthy of the name, things ineffable, inexplicable, but intellectually
rigorous, also came from the west (Indian and Tibetan Buddhism). When the European gunboats finally did arrive
by sea, the mandarins were flummoxed. All
that could be gainfully learned was there to be studied in the Classics. And the Classics always spoke of threats by
land from the west. Threats did not come
by sea.
Threats and opportunities abound in the brine. Contemporary China’s gaze is now firmly fixed
on the Pacific for a myriad of reasons.
And as she begins to build a blue water navy and project her power
beyond her shores, she runs up first against those immediate neighbors, who are
separated by sea but united under a civilizational arc. Japan and the Koreas are the steel to China’s
flint that ignites this particular meeting point with excitement, creativity
and grave danger. Dustybrine lights
quickest, most frequently at these neighborhood-meeting points. And yellow dust blows around the world and
salty sea covers the planet and the metaphoric crossroads is manifest, everywhere
at once, sparking off wherever it is you're reading from.
Accordingly, whatever I read or watch in an interconnected
world is fair game to reference with a hand on the lightning rod. Furthermore all this dry, salty drama should
be photographed for posterity, at least as long as the iPhone is charged, and so
I will add two photos of whatever I deem fit, with each post, as well. Finally, every single day I am listening to
music that choreographs my North Asian life.
I need music when I am pushing myself to exercise, I want music when I
sit down to write, and I need a different accompaniment when I’m I the car or
making dinner. Music is the aural
blessing that sanctifies so much in my world.
So we will speak about it.
Today is easy. I was
listening to the pianist Sonny Clark’s 1957 debut release “Dial S for
Sonny.” http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dial_%22S%22_for_Sonny
The tune “Shoutin’ On a Riff” ” is a hard driving bop groove and chopping
chicken I found the trumpet solo had grabbed ahold of my ears. Who is that?
The tune’s historical feel meant it was probably Donald Byrd or Lee
Morgan. But it was flashy and aggressive
in a way that didn’t speak to either gent.
I wondered if it was Freddie Hubbard but this would be too early. I looked and it was, in fact Art Farmer,
whose name I knew but about whom I knew nothing. Rido (www.rdio.com)
is a fine online music service and the rest of the night and all of today I
have been feasting on this gentleman from Council Bluffs, Iowa. I will have more to say about the man, his flumpet and his twin brother, off in the
future. For now we can consider instead,
that dexterous leader of the 1957 set that introduced me to Mssr. Farmer in the
first place, Sonny Clark, of Herminie Pennsylvania, who would be dead within
six years of his big debut at the tender age of 31. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sonny_Clark
Time. Time,
irreplaceable, can be even more precious than water or soil. I wrote a manuscript this year that I want to
publish. The working title is the “Seven
Deadly Starbucks” (7DS) and within I look at each of the seven different
“deadly sins” in a different Starbucks across North Asia. So we look at anger, my anger, the anger of
my host country, standing in line in San Li Tun, Beijing. We look at greed in Hong Kong and sloth in
Tokyo, etc. and try to suggest some ironic possibilities for how to improve
regional relations given the remarkable rise of Chinese civilization in our
lifetime. The only time we leave the
region is to go back home, to New York City where we can safely examine the
vilest sin of all, pride.
And as the Last Poets yell and Sonny Clark probably knew,
“time is running out.” So we will use
this daily ritual to forward ideas in this manuscript and push it towards
editorial refinement and public release.
If you’ve been tuned in you’ll note we’ve spent some time on anger, lust
and gluttony. Greed and envy are up on
deck.
I sat down today with the notion that this was second time
we’d reached the twentieth posting mark.
“Summary 40” would be easy to compile and set me free for all my other
daily tasks early with time to spare.
But as often happens at the DB crossroads, I ran into Legba, the trickster
and he cut out with my time. I listed
out all the chengyu, I listed out all
the reading or other media referenced and I listed out all the music
profiled. The parameters were set, and
the innovation requirements minimized. Done
early, with the day before me. But a few
posts back in this Blogger interface, I’d inadvertently saved a draft as a post
and tallied it improperly. Today
therefore, is only thirty-nine, not forty.
Tomorrow, then, we’ll summarize the last nineteen. At least tomorrow’s work is largely
done. And ideally you know a bit more
about what I’m trying to do and what to expect if you revisit this crossroads
in the future.
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