What revolves around what?

Sitting on the wall above the Potomac River at the base of the Rumsey Monument in Shepherdstown (where I've ruminated before), watching a pair of black vultures sitting on top of the world (quite literally) preening each other, I thought of something from an episode I recently watched of the BBC series, Sherlock (episode 4, A Scandal in Belgravia, to be precise)-- In his blog of their adventures together, Dr. Watson exposes Holmes' ignorance that the earth revolves around the sun.  Holmes' lack of this knowledge becomes a source of incredulous amusement to those around him, but he aggravatedly demands "What does it matter?"  As he explains to Watson, his brain is like a hard drive and he cannot clutter it with data that is useless to his purposes.  He may have had that information in his hard drive at one point but, if so, he'd long ago deleted it. He has a point.  What, indeed, is the value of such information?  I'm sure many intelligent, educated folks out there would cite all that we've learned about the expanse of space and how we may end up needing to live on another planet some day so we'd better learn all we can about them but, really, for the average person, how does that impact their day to day living?  If a child were born tomorrow and the parents decided to keep him ignorant of the fact of the earth's rotation around the sun, say, home-schooled him and contrived to keep the information from him as far into adulthood as possible, would his life be any less fulfilled, less interesting, less meaningful, or less productive than any of us who are cognizant of this astronomical fact?  Hell, there are tribes of isolated indigenous people who are unaware of the workings of the solar system as we know them.  And yet those people live, love, laugh, create and procreate and function within their own societies just as ably as any of us who are supposedly more advanced.  

I saw a film this afternoon that was a very complex exploration of the very complex subjects of love, relationships, family, and communication.  Our knowledge of the earth's rotation around the sun did not come up at any point in the film and seems to have no bearing on the matters it addressed.  So, what impact does a basic awareness of the workings of the solar system have on a basic awareness of the workings of human nature?  Which of the two is more pertinent to daily life and, thus, more important information to store in our mental hard drives?

Another example--  Last weekend, I stood in a "sky meadow", a huge section of steep hillside in a state park in Virginia that farmers had cleared of forest ages ago for grazing their livestock.  The field is now covered with wildflowers of all kinds and the trail transects growth as tall as my shoulders. First I saw a couple of butterflies-- Huge yellow, black &/or pale blue ones, then little speckly orange ones, then tiny little blue/brown ones.  Next thing I know, I'm looking around at what had to be a couple hundred of them.  I have never seen so many butterflies in one place in my life.  It was so gorgeous I just stood there for the longest time with a big ol' fool grin on my face.  In moments like that, what difference does an awareness that the earth revolves around the sun matter?  The sun is in the sky, we are standing on the earth, the butterflies are fluttering in between, and that's enough.  Isn't it? 



Disclaimer:  I do not state anywhere above that I believe learning about the solar system is unnecessary or irrelevant, so please don't make that assumption.  This was all just random rumination, the sort of stuff that clutters up my own mental hard drive. Worth thinking about, though.  I think.

 

Random babblings: Seasons roll on by

And I'm lost behind
Words I'll never find.
And I'm left behind,
As seasons roll on by...*

Still can't string together anything pithy, but feeling the urge to blog anyway.  In the mood for weirdness today... 

Watched The Libertine again last night.  The prelude to the film is only partially accurate:  I do find Wilmot repellent but, like Sade, still fascinating.  I wouldn't like him as a person, but greatly admire him as an idea.  Probably his best known (read: most notorious) work is A Ramble in St. James's Park (I'm not quoting it here, I don't want my blog reported.  Follow the link if you're curious).  What compelled the man to write such obscenity-filled bawdiness?  Especially considering that he could turn around and pen something like this:

After Death nothing is, and nothing, death,
The utmost limit of a gasp of breath.
Let the ambitious zealot lay aside
His hopes of heaven, whose faith is but his pride;
Let slavish souls lay by their fear
Nor be concerned which way nor where
After this life they shall be hurled.
Dead, we become the lumber of the world,
And to that mass of matter shall be swept
Where things destroyed with things unborn are kept.
Devouring time swallows us whole.
Impartial death confounds body and soul.
For Hell and the foul fiend that rules
God's everlasting fiery jails
(Devised by rogues, dreaded by fools),
With his grim, grisly dog that keeps the door,
Are senseless stories, idle tales,
Dreams, whimsey's, and no more. 

Was it a desire to shock?  Or a compulsion to honesty so intense it became perverse?  As the character of Wilmot says in the film, "I don't mean to upset people, but I must speak my mind. For what's in my mind is far more interesting than what's outside my mind."  Though whether what was in his mind was as interesting to the rest of us is, of course, entirely subjective.
   

Spent a rainy January afternoon today wandering cemeteries outside of Baltimore, then reading Sherlock Holmes while chewing on mussels at Bertha's.  If you're a Holmes purist like I am, don't bother with the new Guy Ritchie/Robert Downey Jr. film unless you can convince yourself that it's not really Sherlock Holmes, it's just an action flick set in Victorian London with characters who solve crimes and share the same names as Conan Doyle's creations.  Just go back and re-read the stories.  Or, watch for the Granada TV series starring Jeremy Brett on public television.

Came home to follow a blog post from The Crow to Sam&Sara Motel and thence to She Is (best. URL. ever.).  Probably not the direction that was intended from the original post, but thoroughly appropriate to my mood.  The images at the latter two put me in mind of Maynard James Keenan and A Perfect Circle, which is fitting after being in Baltimore earlier.

A Perfect Circle - Weak And Powerless
Uploaded by PESfouine.

Driving from Ellicott City through Catonsville and into western B'more, there were so many images I was dying to stop and photograph. So much of the architecture in these neighborhoods indicates that their hey-day was during the early decades of the 20th century. There's so much terrific detail to so many of the rowhouses, individual homes, and storefronts that, though bordering on decrepit now, it's obvious that these areas were once beautiful, vibrant places to live. I get excited at the things I see driving by and want to stop and capture them, save images of them before it's too late, but these are not necessarily appropriate neighborhoods for me be wandering around with a camera. Sure, the idea of being mugged crosses my mind, but it's more a matter of consideration and delicacy. A friend with whom I rode the Gwynns Fall trail summed it up well when we stopped in one of the grittier neighborhoods to snap a shot: Traveling through these neighborhoods is not visiting the zoo.  She's very right.  I would not ever want to offend anyone who lives in such areas by "playing tourist". They live with the grime and crime and grim reality of it. Would my recording the sights that catch my eye in these areas be a compliment or an insult to them? There can be beauty in decay, but do you see it if you're stuck in it every day?

If I should be short on words
And long on things to say,
Could you crawl into my world
And take me worlds away?*

* Chris Cornell, Seasons