[8 July 1984]
I
|
’m lying here sleepless, pondering unanswerable questions—and
not even big unanswerable questions, just puzzles like why do standard Beatle
discographies insist that there are no cuts from the movie on the album Let It Be when it is obvious that at
least two and more likely three cuts are found on both? or What possessed J. A.
T. Robinson (the late Bishop of Woolworths) to claim that the church’s
condemnation of a narrative about
Paul proved that the early church objected to the common Hellenistic practice
of pseudepigraphy (the narrative was anonymous, after all)? or why don’t any
two Persian music theorists agree on the actual intervals used in Persian
music?
It’s been a good day here, today, I mean. We went to a private
screening of Return of the Jedi this
morning, which was okay, I guess, and talked afterward with (well, listened to
mostly) this character whose hobby is restoring old film projectors—monstrosities
from the 20s mainly. It was a warm day,
sunny and clear. Last night I dreamed about a lost tooth and a girl I haven’t
seen in fifteen years.
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