Training Damage...
For those who don't know, I live with two roommates. Neither were home tonight. I was in the living room, cutting up reference photos for my comic and watching SAVED! or, better put, listening to and glancing up at it, when suddenly, I heard some odd noises coming out of Lindsay's room.
It sounded like a body falling into the room. Like someone had forced a window open and fallen in.
Lindsay has keys AND all of the lights are on, so she knows I'm home and it would be silly for her to break in. I thought it might have been one of our infamous mice, but there was no way they could be that loud. The smallest animal that could've made that noise would be a big dog (of course, I'm not entirely discounting this, because there was that incident where the cat fell through the ceiling a couple of months ago).
So, thinking that someone could very possibly be stupid enough to try breaking into our house, I stand up slowly and start walking towards the bedroom, when I suddenly realize that I am wearing socks on a hardwood floor.
So, figuring that if it is someone breaking in and there will be some type of altercation, I don't want to slip on the floor, so...
I take my socks off, to give my feet more traction on the floor if I have to kick the shit out of some burglar-guy.
I look into the room and all I can see is a sheet moving and there are weird moaning sounds. If it is a dog, it is a retarded dog and it is trapped under some blankets. Whatever it is, it is certainly too small to be anything worth being afraid of.
So, I whisper in: "Lindsey, is that you?"
And, of course, it is and she is drunk out of her fucking gourd. She got hammered tonight and for reasons still unknown to me, broke into her own room, fell onto her bed and got lost in her own blankets.
Satisfied that blood need not be shed, I put my socks back on and went about my business.
Interesting Random Samples of Today's Conversations...
Me: I'm gonna listen to Motorhead tonight.
Pants: Okay.
Me: I was watching Rock's 100 Shocking Moments on VH1 earlier...
Pants: Yeah?
Me: And, they once again found a way to insert Cynthia Plastercaster into a random Top 100 countdown. I swear, they fit her into it, no matter what the topic.
Pants: Heh.
Me (as if no one else is around): "...the plaster's getting harder and my love is perfection, A token of my love for her collection, her collection, PLAH-ster, CAH-ster, grab a hold of me faster...
And keeping with this theme...
Palo's set went up today and, as I am at a loss for words; I shall fall back on those same wandering minstrel-poets of the 1970's:
I really love you baby,
I love what youve got
Lets get together, we can
Get hot
No more tomorrow, baby
Time is today
Girl, I can make you feel
Okay
No place for hidin baby
No place to run
You pull the trigger of my
Love gun, (love gun), love gun
Love gun, (love gun), love gun...
For those who don't know, I live with two roommates. Neither were home tonight. I was in the living room, cutting up reference photos for my comic and watching SAVED! or, better put, listening to and glancing up at it, when suddenly, I heard some odd noises coming out of Lindsay's room.
It sounded like a body falling into the room. Like someone had forced a window open and fallen in.
Lindsay has keys AND all of the lights are on, so she knows I'm home and it would be silly for her to break in. I thought it might have been one of our infamous mice, but there was no way they could be that loud. The smallest animal that could've made that noise would be a big dog (of course, I'm not entirely discounting this, because there was that incident where the cat fell through the ceiling a couple of months ago).
So, thinking that someone could very possibly be stupid enough to try breaking into our house, I stand up slowly and start walking towards the bedroom, when I suddenly realize that I am wearing socks on a hardwood floor.
So, figuring that if it is someone breaking in and there will be some type of altercation, I don't want to slip on the floor, so...
I take my socks off, to give my feet more traction on the floor if I have to kick the shit out of some burglar-guy.
I look into the room and all I can see is a sheet moving and there are weird moaning sounds. If it is a dog, it is a retarded dog and it is trapped under some blankets. Whatever it is, it is certainly too small to be anything worth being afraid of.
So, I whisper in: "Lindsey, is that you?"
And, of course, it is and she is drunk out of her fucking gourd. She got hammered tonight and for reasons still unknown to me, broke into her own room, fell onto her bed and got lost in her own blankets.
Satisfied that blood need not be shed, I put my socks back on and went about my business.
Interesting Random Samples of Today's Conversations...
Me: I'm gonna listen to Motorhead tonight.
Pants: Okay.
Me: I was watching Rock's 100 Shocking Moments on VH1 earlier...
Pants: Yeah?
Me: And, they once again found a way to insert Cynthia Plastercaster into a random Top 100 countdown. I swear, they fit her into it, no matter what the topic.
Pants: Heh.
Me (as if no one else is around): "...the plaster's getting harder and my love is perfection, A token of my love for her collection, her collection, PLAH-ster, CAH-ster, grab a hold of me faster...
And keeping with this theme...
Palo's set went up today and, as I am at a loss for words; I shall fall back on those same wandering minstrel-poets of the 1970's:
I really love you baby,
I love what youve got
Lets get together, we can
Get hot
No more tomorrow, baby
Time is today
Girl, I can make you feel
Okay
No place for hidin baby
No place to run
You pull the trigger of my
Love gun, (love gun), love gun
Love gun, (love gun), love gun...
VIEW 13 of 13 COMMENTS
Come over. I'll make shrimp and rice.
I think the basic lesson of both translations is the same: calm acceptance of events beyond your control. The connotation of "weathering the storm" makes more of a value judgement about the rain than I think either translation makes. If anything, I would say that Wilson's translation, rather than Mukoh's, casts rain negatively, saying that despite the rain one should have the wherewithall to follow through without breaking stride, while I readk Mukoh's in, as you say, with more Taoist overtones, simply saying that the rain is beyond one's control and should be accepted as it comes, with no reference to any goal which the rain may impinge upon,