Ode on Indolence Puns

Here is a copy that has good non-spoiler gloss for about 10 words and allusions that are likely unfamiliar.

The rhyme and rhythm in Keats usually seems graceful and unforced to me, but in fact there are a lot of inversions / strange word orders / antique phrasing to achieve it. Some inverted wordings -- stepp'd serene, ripe was the drowsy hour, unhaunted quite, pale of cheek, fatiguéd eye, a lawn besprinkled o'er -- etc. It seems to me that there's a lot affinity between this and the well-known poems of Poe -- both that antique/spooky/driven attributes.

And the first line is "bigly" weird, in passive voice avoids giving the Subject (that is, you would usually express this as "I saw three figures," and I is avoided.) When you omit I for the subject, it seems to me that's self-important or royal -- if I say "All these things have been done", meaning "I did that stuff" -- that seems to me royal or pompous, dramatic wording.

An irreverent summary: he gets up and sees three ghosts trotting around, he recognizes them as avatars of Ambition, Love and Poetry, the old L.A.P. dance if you need a mnemonic, they fade when he recognizes them, he thinks how they're not so great as up to be they're crack'd, sounds like he starts to drift off and then they're back and he gives them the boot, bids them scoot.

Around line 35 is the punch line: "For Poesy! — no, — she has not a joy, — At least for me, — so sweet as drowsy noons, And evenings steep’d in honey’d indolence". If you read this biographically, it seems insincere: Keats was ambitious and plagued by romantic love. His saying he is tortured by love sounds like any self-dramatizing artist saying "you think this is easy, you have no idea how I suffer".

BUT -- for me the overall effect is a powerful invocation and celebration of the sumptuous joy of ease and comfort -- physical, intellectual and emotional. In the comments for the next few days, I'll sprinkle little observations about form, there is more than enough craft to call out in this one.

This is one of five odes -- if you get classic poetry at all in school, I think Ode on a Grecian Urn is one of the most likely you'll ever get. Ode to Autumn, Ode to a Nightingale, and Ode to Psyche are the others, that last one was a bit of life-changer for me.

So, leave comments on anything you notice in the poem, or things it reminds you of, or your reaction to it.

Next week, June 23,

Money Train isn’t a good movie. It was clearly an attempt to cash in on the Wesley - Woody paradigm that audiences had responded to in White Men Can’t Jump a few years before. In fact, Money Train pretty much replicates their characterizations from that film (Wesley is more driven and goal-oriented, Woody is a risk-taker to his and others’ detriment).

That Wesley - Woody dynamic is literally Money Train’s only reason for being - the storytelling is rambling and wildly unfocused. There are no fewer than four plots running simultaneously…

- W & W breaking in and feuding over the affections of a new partner, played by Jennifer Lopez

- W & W repeatedly running afoul of, then plotting (very haphazardly) to rob transit police big-wig Robert Blake

- Woody being thousands in debt to violent mobsters

- W & W & J Lo chasing arsonist Chris Cooper (whose gruesome method of attack was, very unfortunately, copied by a real-life arsonist after the film’s release)

Within those threads, there are even other sub-threads. And none of them intersect in satisfying fashion. It’s a mess. But this is where, to me, there’s something kind of fascinating about the film.

It’s probably unintentional, but it feels a lot like a throwback to prototypal buddy pictures from the 1970s like Freebie and the Bean and Busting, where slices of life for mismatched cops were stitched together into films that lived or died based on chemistry and occasionally inspired set pieces. There wasn’t much focus to those films, they were more like sandboxes to let the writers, actors, and directors roll out scenes that brought audiences into the unusual lives of unusual people.

Money Train seems to capture the same kind of weird energy and - as a fan of those kinds of ambling ‘70s action-comedies - I find it enjoyable for that reason, warts and all. It’s become a holiday staple for me. The actors are relatively dialed in - W & W are highly charismatic, J Lo is a ball of interesting, disruptive energy, and Robert Blake delivers every line with singular venom (given his conviction in a civil suit for murdering his spouse later in life, it is admittedly uncomfortable being left to wonder how much of this might have just been him being him).

I’m not here to tout the artistic merits of Money Train. It has none. But as a less-heralded holiday film and a (most likely accidental) throwback to the relatively unstructured, freewheeling buddy pictures of the 1970s, it holds more charm

Is there deeds in indol shops. I don’t want to go in too much details to avoid spoilers but is there dees for the shops in indol. If so is it possible to get them after indol is blocked off?

I’m already post game working on some extra stuff (before ng+) and noticed that I never got deeds there and don’t know if I can anymore.

Edit: auto correct sucks at times and mobile won’t let me edit the title. Great

What the heck did you just fudging say about me, you little chime? I’ll have you know I readed the top of my class in the Bardian class, and I’ve been involved in numerous top lane ganks, and I have over 300 confirmed teemo kills. I am trained in chime collecting and I’m the top bard in the entire runeterra. You are nothing to me but another free gank. I will wipe you the heck out with a stun that has never been seen before on this Rift, mark my fricking words. You think you can get away with saying that stuff to me over in Lathyrus's chat? Think again, fricker. As we speak I am contacting Polypuff across the Pacific Ocean and you're being traced right now so you better prepare to forfeit your meeps. I will wipe you out and humiliate you. You’re fricking dead, kid. I can be in any Bard E, anywhere, anytime, and I can kill you in over a million billion ways, and that’s just with Bard's gun. Not only am I trained in Bardjitsu and meep throwing, but I have access to every single bard skin in game (even the unreleased ones) and I will use them to wipe your miserable meep legs off the face of the world, you little toxic Draven main. If only you could have known what your little stupid bard comment was about to bring you, maybe you would have fricking shushed. But you couldn’t, you didn’t, and now you’re paying the price, you goshdang Yuumi supporter. I will put meeps all over you and you will drown in it. You’re fricking dead, kiddo.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nU2sQD4N55U

Seeing that Math 246 (ODE) has a 2.6 workload rating, which seems insanely low for a math class at that level. Considering taking it with a relatively heavy load next semester, so could anyone weigh in on how bad it actually is?

An Ode to the Gutter—a love letter from JL Dobbins:

If it’s hustle-bustle, off the top rope turn-buckle madness you seek, Colfax is where you’ll find it. Soulfax — forever about that action. 24/7, 365, hand-over-fist action. A dish served however the fuck you want it: intravenously; foil; glass rose; crack pipe? No matter, you’ll find your fix. Now the world’s handiest man, who knew capability was just a hit away?

A scene so vivid you can almost taste it. At least I could. Well, maybe it was the pungent aura of 100 homeless wanderers congregating within their relegated territory, where personal hygiene took a back seat after life became so heavy.

Not where I normally cop, but at 4:00 AM last Thursday the block saved my ass. I owe her for that. I owe her this.

A microcosm of a city, where addict to hustler is distinguished by luck, 3 square feet of grass, and the next tent. Smack dab in the middle of Denver, a village of downtrodden dwellers wait for seekers and promise. I parked my car down (street) and stepped out, hoping scenes hadn’t much changed since my last visit three years ago.

I cross the boulevard and pass the first tent. To my right and adjacent to the sidewalk is a ledge for sitting, among other things. I plop down next to a Native American looking fella ripping his crack pipe.

“You like black too or what?”

Two eyelids lifted slowly, like garage doors revealing bloodtint retinas gazing far beyond my soul and I, our glances meeting for a fleeting second before doors again lower, his pinned brown marbles now staring into the ground.

“Hard and clear, hard and clear.”

“Right on, man, well look... If ya know anybody that can help me I’ll buy you a nickel, let’s go to one of these boys that has black and clear or black and hard.”

And that’s when I heard a voice come from literally the next guy down the sidewalk, standing up near his tent with a blanket draped over his shoulders.

“I got both—what you need?”

“Some black, and, ugh, lemme get a nickel of the other.”

I was desperate and didn’t need the tweaked out shadow spotter following my exit.

“Come on, man, I’ll get you that little chunk.”

A heavy-set black man greeted me with a kind smile. His introduction was passive and trusting and he spoke with purposeful accommodation.

”Boy, you need this shit, huh, over here trembling n shit. Come to this tent anytime and if I’m sleeping yell ‘Miami, wake up I’m sick!’ I’ll help you anytime.”

Okay. Guess I found a contingency pla

I'm prepared to die a virgin and a lonely loser. Internet addiction. Depression. I can't handle people insulting me in real life, so I hold it in until I can't handle it and then I leave. Left my job. College. Im not witty enough to defend myself in ways other than physically but I'm not a child anymore. I'm in a changing maze.

This is a story from my days working for a bookstore. Everybody was assigned a book section. It was our responsibility to make the section good; alphabetize it, flush it forward etc. Managers were always on our backs to get the section in ship shape.

>"You need to own your sections!" They would tell us.

It was during the dead season, so I attacked Travel with a will. Alphabetized by country, then by writer. Flushed it forward. Cleared, primped and pretty.

I sit back, wipe my forehead, and happily prepare myself for what basically amounts to maintenance work for the next few months.

I come in the next day.

>"So Alkuna, there's been a shift in assignments. We're no longer having you do Travel. The cafe is responsible for that now. We're putting you in Psychology now."

>Me: "...I jut finished busting my backside to make Travel look good. Why are you taking it away?"

>Manager: "Because the Cafe needs to maintain a book section too, and now that Travel is in good condition, it will be easy for them to maintain it. They're always so busy that they don't have a lot of time."

>Me: "So don't give them a book section then! They're already too busy to do a good job."

>Manager: "Everyone gets a book section, no exceptions. You're in Psychology now, so I expect you to devote as much time, effort and love on Psychology that you did in Travel."

Um, how about NO! Why should I devote time and effort and love in Psychology?! I did that to Travel, and you took it away from me and gave it to people who likely won't look at it longer than five minutes a day! I busted my hiney and lost it. Why should I lift one finger toward Psychology, when you punish hard work, reward indolence, and won't even acknowledge what I did in the first place except to take it away?

Needless to say... I didn't. I played at it, but never wasted my time like that again. Why would I?

OK there's no petition but can this actually happen? Haha jk,...unless?

Currently number two on Apple Music

Number one on Amazon music

Part of me wonders what excuse the BBC will conjure up for not playing it on the radio during the chart show.

https://twitter.com/MrMichaelEU/status/1221935625747812352?s=20