Monthly Archives: July 2020

Charles Bukowski

It is in the death flow Death Flow DEATH FLOW 11:06 AM Friday morning. Once again the Creator God has blessed us with an abundance of sunshine and cool weather. I am slowly waking up to the last Friday of July 2020. Tomorrow will be August 1, 2020. On the 14th of August I will celebrate my
68th birthday. Our son Josiah will be 38 on the 3rd of August. Josiah and his family moved last week to Lyden, Washington. Josiah is starting over in a new place. He has no job and does not know anyone in Lyden. Joe’s wife Hannah has a job this Fall teaching High School English. Right now they do not know if the Lyden School District will be having classes. Josiah was a High School History teaching, now he is unemployed and wondering what the future holds for him.

I got up this morning around 7:15 AM. Once again I slept down in the lower level/our open basement because it is cooler sleeping down there among my books. It is 81 degrees last night when I went to bed up here on the first floor of our home found in the Wasteland. When I got up this morning Carol was already out walking among the living dead in our neighborhood. I find it impossible to walk among the living dead.

Carol left this morning to take food to a family that are roll members of her church. Carol finds meaning in preparing meals.

I came to our main computer this morning to make a list of books I have by the American poet Charles Bukowski. Recently Carol found a used book at a local thrift store she thought I would want titled, ‘Charles Bukowski: Locked in the Arms of Crazy Life: A Biography’ by Howard Sounes. Carol noticed in looking at used books at this thrift store that this book had been published by Grove Press. I have told my wife if she sees any book published by Grove Press to buy it. So I have been reading this biography on Bukowski along with my books on Samuel Johnson. I got out of the lower level the other night my Charles Bukowski books to maybe show in a future video for my Youtube channel.

‘Post Office’ A Novel By Charles Bukowski

‘Hot Water Music’ By Charles Bukowski

‘Factotum’ A Novel By Charles Bukowski

‘Play The Piano Drunk Like A Percussion Instrument Until The Fingers Begin To Bleed A Bit’ Poetry By Charles Bukowski

‘Tales Of Ordinary Madness’ By Charles Bukowski

‘Screams From The Balcony: Selected Letters 1960-1970’ By Charles Bukowski Edited By Seamus Cooney

‘Beerspit Night And Cursing: The Correspondence Of Charles Bukowski And Sheri Martinelli 1960-1967’ Edited By Steven Moore

‘The Mathematics Of The Breath And The Way: On Writers And Writing’ By Charles Bukowski Edited With An Introduction By David Stephen Calonne

‘Love Is A Dog From Hell’ Poetry By Charles Bukowski

‘Sifting Through The Madness For The Word, The Line, The Way’ New Poems By Charles Bukowski

‘Essential Bukowski: Poetry’ Selected and Edited by Abel Debritto

‘Slouching Toward Nirvana’ New Poems By Charles Bukowski

This is all the books I have by Charles Bukowski right now. I am always searching for books by Bukowski at thrift stores.

So the morning crawls by. I have no plans for the day ahead of me. This morning I have been reading from a book titled, ‘Dr Johnson’s Dictionary: The Extraordinary Story of the Book that Defined the World’ By Henry Hitchings. Last night I read late into the night, ‘The Life of Samuel Johnson’ By James Boswell. Yesterday I finally got in the mail the second volume to massive biography on the life of the writer Saul Bellow titled, ‘The Life of Saul Bellow: Love and Strife 1965-2005’ biography By Zachary Leader.

I will close to face the death flow.

to decamp

It is 2:29 PM Thursday afternoon in the slow unwinding of my life. It is a sunny day and not so hot. If I had it my way I would shut up the house and turn on the central air system. I like the house cold and dark. Carol likes all the windows open and sunlight burning into the spaces we wander around in as we grow old and moldy.

I got up this morning around 7:30 AM. I slept down in the lower level because it is cooler down there. Our bedroom at night is too hot for me to sleep comfortably. So I came upstairs to find Carol having a morning meal. I got a can of cold water and sat waking up. I really never woke up today. I am feel sick these days. I am sick of America. I am sick of the COVID-19 plague. I am sick of absolutely everything! I wish the world would disappear!

I did write in my paper diary today and I did read some more of the book, ‘Charles Bukowski: Locked in the Arms of a Crazy Life: A Biography’ by Howard Sounes. Not much to write about this afternoon. Carol left to visit our local public library. I did get two used books in the mail this afternoon-‘Dr Johnson’s Dictionary: The Extraordinary Story of the Book that Defined the World’ By Henry Hitchings and ‘The Life of Saul Bellow: Love and Strife 1965-2005’ biography by Zachary Leader.

Last night I read and watched television. I went to bed around 1:30 AM and now I feel sick/wasted/exhausted. I will close.

Dictionary Johnson

It is 2:10 PM Wednesday afternoon in the flow of decay. It is hot humid sunny afternoon. Last night we closed up the house and turned on the central air system to keep the house from overheating. We are not ready to be cooked and eaten by the Angel of Death.

I got up this morning around 6:30 AM. When I got up I found my wife in her usual spot in the Cosmos. I got myself a can of water and sat in my living room chair and dozed till 7:30 AM. I roused myself up around 7:30 AM and got myself a cup of coffee. I took my cup of coffee to the main computer station and surfed the World Wide Web. After messing with our main computer I wrote in my paper diary and then I read all morning, ‘The Life of Samuel Johnson’ By James Boswell. I have been reading this afternoon from a book titled, ‘Samuel Johnson and the Life of Writing’ biography by Paul Fussell.

This afternoon we are babysitting Josie and Cora while Caleb and Emily look at cars to buy.

There is nothing else to write right now. Last night I read, ‘The Life of Samuel Johnson’ till Midnight. Now it is another day.

I suppose I will close to drift.

No. 110 Rambler posted by Samuel Johnson

No. 110. Repentance stated and explained. Retirement and abstinence useful to repentance.
Apr 1751
Posted by Samuel Johnson in The Rambler
At nobis vita, dominum quarentibus unum
Lux iter est, et clara dies, et gratia simplex.
Spem sequimur, gradimurque fide, fruimurque futuris,
Ad qua non veniunt prasentis gaudia vita,
Nec currunt pariter capta, et capienda voluptus.
PRUDENTIUS, Cont. Sym. ii. 904.
We through this maze of life one Lord obey;
Whose light and grace unerring lead the way.
By hope and faith secure of future bliss,
Gladly the joys of present life we miss:
For baffled mortals still attempt in vain,
Present and future bliss at once to gain. F. LEWIS.
That to please the Lord and Father of the universe, is the supreme interest of created and dependent beings, as it is easily proved, has been universally confessed; and since all rational agents are conscious of having neglected or violated the duties prescribed to them, the fear of being rejected, or punished by God, has always burdened the human mind. The expiation of crimes, and renovation of the forfeited hopes of divine favour, therefore constitute a large part of every religion.
The various methods of propitiation and atonement which fear and folly have dictated, or artifice and interest tolerated in the different parts of the world, however they may sometimes reproach or degrade humanity, at least shew the general consent of all ages and nations in their opinion of the placability of the divine nature. That God will forgive, may, indeed, be established as the first and fundamental truth of religion; for, though the knowledge of his existence is the origin of philosophy, yet, without the belief of his mercy, it would have little influence upon our moral conduct. There could be no prospect of enjoying the protection or regard of him, whom the least deviation from rectitude made inexorable for ever; and every man would naturally withdraw his thoughts from the contemplation of a Creator, whom he must consider as a governor too pure to be pleased, and too severe to be pacified; as an enemy infinitely wise, and infinitely powerful, whom he could neither deceive, escape, nor resist.
Where there is no hope, there can be no endeavour. A constant and unfailing obedience is above the reach of terrestrial diligence; and therefore the progress of life could only have been the natural descent of negligent despair from crime to crime, had not the universal persuasion of forgiveness, to be obtained by proper means of reconciliation, recalled those to the paths of virtue, whom their passions had solicited aside; and animated to new attempts, and firmer perseverance, those whom difficulty had discouraged, or negligence surprised.
In times and regions so disjoined from each other, that there can scarcely be imagined any communication of sentiments either by commerce or tradition, has prevailed a general and uniform expectation of propitiating God by corporal austerities, of anticipating his vengeance by voluntary inflictions, and appeasing his justice by a speedy and cheerful submission to a less penalty, when a greater is incurred.
Incorporated minds will always feel some inclination towards exterior acts and ritual observances. Ideas not represented by sensible objects are fleeting, variable, and evanescent. We are not able to judge of the degree of conviction which operated at any particular time upon our own thoughts, but as it is recorded by some certain and definite effect. He that reviews his life in order to determine the probability of his acceptance with God, if he could once establish the necessary proportion between crimes and sufferings, might securely rest upon his performance of the expiation; but while safety remains the reward only of mental purity, he is always afraid lest he should decide too soon in his own favour; lest he should not have felt the pangs of true contrition; lest he should mistake satiety for detestation, or imagine that his passions are subdued when they are only sleeping.
From this natural and reasonable diffidence arose, in humble and timorous piety, a disposition to confound penance with repentance, to repose on human determinations, and to receive from some judicial sentence the stated and regular assignment of reconciliatory pain. We are never willing to be without resource: we seek in the knowledge of others a succour for our own ignorance, and are ready to trust any that will undertake to direct us when we have no confidence in ourselves.
This desire to ascertain by some outward marks the state of the soul, and this willingness to calm the conscience by some settled method, have produced, as they are diversified in their effects by various tempers and principles, most of the disquisitions and rules, the doubts and solutions, that have embarrassed the doctrine of repentance, and perplexed tender and flexible minds with innumerable scruples concerning the necessary measures of sorrow, and adequate degrees of self-abhorrence; and these rules, corrupted by fraud, or debased by credulity, have, by the common resiliency of the mind from one extreme to another, incited others to an open contempt of all subsidiary ordinances, all prudential caution, and the whole discipline of regulated piety.
Repentance, however difficult to be practised, is, if it be explained without superstition, easily understood. Repentance is the relinquishment of any practice, from the conviction that it has offended God. Sorrow, and fear, and anxiety, are properly not parts, but adjuncts of repentance; yet they are too closely connected with it to be easily separated; for they not only mark its sincerity, but promote its efficacy.
No man commits any act of negligence or obstinacy, by which his safety or happiness in this world is endangered, without feeling the pungency of remorse. He who is fully convinced, that he suffers by his own failure, can never forbear to trace back his miscarriage to its first cause, to image to himself a contrary behaviour, and to form involuntary resolutions against the like fault, even when he knows that he shall never again have the power of committing it. Danger, considered as imminent, naturally produces such trepidations of impatience as leave all human means of safety behind them; he that has once caught an alarm of terrour, is every moment seized with useless anxieties, adding one security to another, trembling with sudden doubts, and distracted by the perpetual occurrence of new expedients. If, therefore, he whose crimes have deprived him of the favour of God, can reflect upon his conduct without disturbance, or can at will banish the reflection; if he who considers himself as suspended over the abyss of eternal perdition only by the thread of life, which must soon part by its own weakness, and which the wing of every minute may divide, can cast his eyes round him without shuddering with horrour, or panting with security; what can he judge of himself, but that he is not yet awakened to sufficient conviction, since every loss is more lamented than the loss of the divine favour, and every danger more dreadful than the danger of final condemnation?
Retirement from the cares and pleasures of the world has been often recommended as useful to repentance. This at least is evident, that every one retires, whenever ratiocination and recollection are required on other occasions; and surely the retrospect of life, the disentanglement of actions complicated with innumerable circumstances, and diffused in various relations, the discovery of the primary movements of the heart, and the extirpation of lusts and appetites deeply rooted and widely spread, may be allowed to demand some secession from sport and noise, business and folly. Some suspension of common affairs, some pause of temporal pain and pleasure, is doubtless necessary to him that deliberates for eternity, who is forming the only plan in which miscarriage cannot be repaired, and examining the only question in which mistake cannot be rectified.
Austerities and mortifications are means by which the mind is invigorated and roused, by which the attractions of pleasure are interrupted, and the chains of sensuality are broken. It is observed by one of the fathers, that he who restrains himself in the use of things lawful, will never encroach upon things forbidden. Abstinence, if nothing more, is, at least, a cautious retreat from the utmost verge of permission, and confers that security which cannot be reasonably hoped by him that dares always to hover over the precipice of destruction, or delights to approach the pleasures which he knows it fatal to partake. Austerity is the proper antidote to indulgence; the diseases of mind as well as body are cured by contraries, and to contraries we should readily have recourse, if we dreaded guilt as we dread pain.
The completion and sum of repentance is a change of life. That sorrow which dictates no caution, that fear which does not quicken our escape, that austerity which fails to rectify our affections, are vain and unavailing. But sorrow and terrour must naturally precede reformation; for what other cause can produce it? He, therefore, that feels himself alarmed by his conscience, anxious for the attainment of a better state, and afflicted by the memory of his past faults, may justly conclude, that the great work of repentance is begun, and hope by retirement and prayer, the natural and religious means of strengthening his conviction, to impress upon his mind such a sense of the divine presence, as may overpower the blandishments of secular delights, and enable him to advance from one degree of holiness to another, till death shall set him free from doubt and contest, misery and temptation[b].
What better can we do than prostrate fall
Before him reverent; and there confess
Humbly our faults, and pardon beg; with tears
Wat’ring the ground, and with our sighs the air
Frequenting, sent from hearts contrite, in sign
Of sorrow unfeign’d, and humiliation meek? Par. Lost. B. x. 1087.

the cycle of American history

It is 12:03 PM Tuesday afternoon in the flow of my life. It is 80 degrees inside my cell this afternoon. Outside it is hot and sunny. If it gets any hotter I will shut the house up and turn on the central air system.

I got up this morning around 7 o’clock AM. Carol was already up getting ready to for a morning walk with her friend Karen. Carol left this morning to do errands and to meet up with her cousin’s on her Dad’s side for coffee and conversation. Carol likes to talk to people.

I spent the morning writing in my paper diary and reading some more of the book, ‘The Life of Samuel Johnson’ by James Boswell. I did leave the house this morning around 10:30 AM to visit local thrift stores to search for used books. One local thrift store has closed due to the upsurge in people getting sick and dying from the COVID-19 plague. I did find two other local thrift stores open and found these used books-

‘Phoenix Harvest’ memoir by Han Suyin (China: Autobiography, History, Book 5)

‘Age of Reformed From Bryan To F.D.R.’ essays American History by Richard Hofstadter

‘Animal Farm’ a novel by George Orwell

‘The Lost Fortune of the Tsars’ Russian History by William Clarke

When I got home it was around 11:30 AM. So goes by existence. Carol did not know when she would be home today.

Last night we watched television and went to bed early. I mainly read yesterday, ‘The Life of Samuel Johnson’ by James Boswell and also ‘Designing the Life of Johnson’ literary study by Bruce Redford.

I will close to sweat and read.

in our present there is more evil and good

It is 3:04 PM Monday afternoon in the flow of decay. It is a warm humid gray day. It is predicted to be sunny sometime this evening.

I got up this morning around 6:30 AM. When I got up my wife was sitting in her usual place. I got myself a glass of cold water and sat in my living chair to make peace with another day. Why be at war with life? Now is the time to make peace with God and not wait for the wrath of God to fall.

Around 7 o’clock AM I got myself a cup of coffee and messed with our main computer. After messing with our main computer I wrote in my paper diary and then ate some food. I have spent the morning and afternoon hours today reading, ‘The Life of Samuel Johnson’ by James Boswell. I have done nothing else. Wait I did make a very short video this morning for my Youtube channel/Monday Reads.

Carol left this morning to attend a Woman’s Prayer meeting and got home from around 2:30 PM. Now she is in the kitchen making blueberry muffins. Carol also went grocery shopping early this morning.

Last night we watched on the History Channel a program on the Knights Templar of the Crusades. I got out for Carol to look at this book on the Knights Templar, ‘Dungeon, Fire And Sword: The Knights Templar In The Crusades’ By John J. Robinson. Carol found this morning at our neighborhood Little Library a book titled, ‘The Depositions: New And Selected Essays On Being And Ceasing To Be’ By Thomas Lynch. We have in our library these other books by Thomas Lynch, ‘Booking Passages’, Bodies in Motion and at Rest’, and ‘The Undertaking’.

Carol went to bed early last night and I stayed up and read late into the night, ‘The Life of Samuel Johnson’ by James Boswell.

I suppose I will close to read some more of ‘The Life of Samuel Johnson’.

The History of Memory

It is 1:00 PM Sunday afternoon here by Lake Michigan. It is another scorching hot day. We once again need rain to fall from the skies.

I got up this morning around 6:30 AM. I know someday I won’t be getting up. So I got up to find Carol reading her ESV Bible. I got myself a glass of cold water and sat in my chain in the living room to slowly wake up to another day of my Life. Next month I have my 68th birthday. Life has gone by so fast! After I woke up I made a fresh pot of coffee and wrote in my paper diary. Carol left for a walk around the neighborhood.

I spent the morning hours reading my books on Samuel Johnson and writing in my paper diary. Carol went to Covenant PCA around 10 o’clock AM and got home around 11:45 PM. Now it is 1:06 PM Sunday afternoon.

Amazon did deliver this morning a book I had ordered titled, ‘The Quest For Corvo: An Experiment In Biography’ By A.J.A. Symons. Yesterday I received two used books in the mail, ‘Samuel Johnson and the Life of Writing’ biography by Paul Fussell and ‘Designing the Life of Johnson‘ by Bruce Redford. I have been reading the last two days from these two books, ‘Samuel Johnson and the Life of Writing’ and ‘Designing the Life of Johnson‘.

Last night I read late into the night from Fussell’s book ‘Samuel Johnson and the Life of Writing’. Now it is the beginning of the last week of July 2020.

I have nothing to do the rest of the day, but wait it out. I will close to drift. There is no way out.

the purest love of virtue

It is 3:12 PM Saturday afternoon on a very hot day. Yes it hot and we have the house shut up. Earlier today I mowed the lawn and came in the house covered in sweat. While outside mowing the lawn I also chopped down plant growth. I should water this evening my wild flower garden.

It has been a normal day. I got up this morning around 7 o’clock AM. I basically did nothing most of the morning. I did write in my paper diary, but did not read anything. Carol left at 7:50 AM to go to the Holland Farmer’s Market and then to visit her parent’s grave to water the plants set on their graves in pots.

Today Amazon delivered a book I had ordered titled, ‘Designing the Life of Johnson’ by Bruce Redford. In the mail this afternoon I received a used book I had ordered titled, ‘Samuel Johnson and the Life of Writing’ by Paul Fussell.

There is not much else to report this afternoon. I have been mainly reading lately from a book titled, ‘The Life of Samuel Johnson’ by James Boswell.

I will close to read my books. Tomorrow is the last Sunday of July 2020. Next Sunday we will be in the month of August 2020.

for faith, that panting for a happier heart

It is 1:03 PM Friday afternoon in the flow of existence. Outside it is a nice day from what I can see outside our house windows. We left the air conditioner on this morning when we opened up the house. When the air conditioner kicks on I shut all the windows. Right now the house is closed because the air conditioner came on even though it is not extremely hot outside presently. There had been predicted by weathermen that it was going to be hot, but that prediction failed to materialize.

I got up this morning around 6:30 AM. I found my wife reading in the living room. She left this morning to have breakfast with a friend. I spent the morning basically doing nothing. I did film a video for my Youtube channel this morning. I read a poem by Samuel Johnson this morning. I wrote a couple of pages in my paper diary. Now we are in the afternoon hours. Carol came home and then left to do some more running around.

I plan to read this afternoon some more of ‘The Life of Samuel Johnson’ by James Boswell. Do not know when my wife will be home today. I thought of mowing our lawn, but not in the mood to do yard work today.

Yesterday I basically read all day into the night ‘The Life of Samuel Johnson’ by James Boswell. Carol went to bed early and I read late into the night. I will close to drift.

IMG_4343

the unity of God

It is 2:10 PM Thursday afternoon in the flow of existence. Outside this afternoon it is cloudy and warm. I did close the house up this morning and turned on the central air system. It is predicted to be extremely hot Friday, Saturday, and Sunday here in West Michigan.

Carol left the house this morning around 10 o’clock to do stuff and have lunch with relatives. I have been writing in my paper diary and reading from a book titled, ‘The Club: Johnson, Boswell, and the Friends Who Shaped an Age’ biography by Leo Damrosch. This morning for devotions I read some more of Calvin’s Institutes of the Christian Religion’ Volume 1. I also filmed a video this morning for my Youtube channel. So has gone by this day. Do not know when Carol will be home from her running around.

Last night I mainly read from these two books, ‘The Life of Samuel Johnson’ by James Boswell and ‘Boswell’s Presumptuous Task: The Making Of The Life Of Dr. Johnson’ biography/literary study by Adam Sisman.

There is not much else to report this afternoon. I will close to read and write.