warning, a lot of detail, maybe more than is necessary.

When there are so many we shall have to mourn,
when grief has been made so public, and exposed
to the critique of a whole epoch
the frailty of our conscience and anguish,


of whom shall we speak? For every day they die
among us, those who were doing us some good,
who knew it was never enough but
hoped to improve a little by living.

W.H Auden, "IN memory of Sigmund Freud"

I am rather more inspired tonight having had my daily dose of stimulating
conversation. Sometimes I wonder. There is a moment for exam papers and a moment for loud music, drinks and dances. But least of all I guess this blog wasn't meant to capture those moments. It is badly put, I guess a place to wax lyrical.

I will start from the back and jump around. Firstly, it is Freud's 150th birthday today. No one really believes him nowadays but apparently modernism owes a great debt to him. so i was told that "i wouldn't be me if i didn't try to analyse myself all the time."but the flaw in that argument is that you already assume the existence of an inner, unchangeable "me" in rebutting that.=) we are changeable people, and i don't believe in psychoanalysis.but the debt we owe is indeed and insight and the possibility that intelligent people must sometimes look within themselves from time to time.

tonight was a bit nostalgia night or perhaps as people ended their exams they decided to renew and take up conversation once more. so i got sucked in. topics today range from a yearning for the past. with reference to j.k. galbraith, an irrational common whine that "people don't write like that anymore,"with "verve and nuance", "concise" and "with conviction". or that economists don't seem to be as interesting anymore. at the same time, i was invited to a ball in oxford but that didn't materialise, and for a brief moment i entertained the joy of putting on a suit and meeting strangers in a strange, antiquated setting doing antiquated things. as i said, there is a moment for the modern, but tonight wasn't one of them.

went through little debate about education, how things were like in cambridge, how they were in lse,a wish that a little bit of the professors nowadays would be more square pegs in round holes, yet the skeptic warning against the seductive allure of charm and words eschewing the practical. the skeptic and the romantic always exchanging roles.

there was even time for the big word called "love". and even the "quest for knowledge." but if you are inquisitive there is nothing that can take that away from you except years of jadedness and disillusionment but i am happy to report thati have not had the requisite number of years for that.

so, i have taken the liberty to provide a few alternative definitions, which correspond to different periods and timelines depending on what i believed then (or now, the trick is to guess.)

"i thought that love was precisely that, some fantastic nebulous concept which would apply whether or not you spent time with the person. in fact it derived its greatest meaning when you were apart and you believed that you had an invisible friend there supporting you through some shit, and somebody you could return to at the end of the day. but i realise people need intimacy and affection as much simply as some reassurance or validation and they may need it more than i do so i have to try harder nowadays."

on honesty:

"but i can always explain it away and still kinda accept it once i have developed an irrational loyalty, which is why i don't point it out when people are fucked up sometimes. but maybe i have an ulterior motive, it is something i demand of people too, that hopefully they will look past my mistakes (especially of omission and neglect), and that perhaps i am wilfully expecting an irrational loyalty to myself too."

in any case, there is only so much you can capture of the spirit of it. but ever grateful.

p/s auden has always been a favourite