Birds, bit more general stuff.
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date: 2019-08-19
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weight: 2
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*February 13, 2014:*
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<div class="verse">I wonder if the snow loves the trees and
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fields, that it kisses them so gently? And then it covers them up snug, you
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know, with a white quilt, and perhaps it says, "Go to sleep,
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darlings, till the summer comes again."
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<em>- Lewis Carroll</em></div>
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I've mentioned ritual before, but I think that's tied into the larger feeing
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of portentousness. Ritual is one way to sate that sense of intense meaning
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surrounding an act or an object.
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<blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><p>A goose is dumb. A thousand geese
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darkening the horizon is a portent. Mindless honking, individually
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directionless, collectively unstoppable</p>— Makyo (@drab_makyo) <a
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href="https://twitter.com/drab_makyo/statuses/433658156988628992">February 12,
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2014</a></blockquote>
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<script async src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js" charset="utf-8"></script>
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Any little thing can carry meaning for one person far outweighing what it
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might mean to others. Something about flocks of geese terrifies me. It's not a
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logical fear, it's a sense of foreboding. It's not the geese themselves, it's
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the concept of geese, the lack of any ritual to solve the problem of geese.
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<blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><p>A goose is tasty. Geese taste
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like horror. Acrid tang of ill omens *froth*</p>— Makyo
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(@drab_makyo) <a
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href="https://twitter.com/drab_makyo/statuses/433658390103879680">February 12,
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2014</a></blockquote>
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<script async src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js" charset="utf-8"></script>
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It's dumb. Geese are dumb. There's no reason I should feel any sort of
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emotion at all surrounding geese, but I do.
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<blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en"><p>Why are geese so portentous? Why
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do they cause anxiety? Did I take my meds this morning?</p>— Makyo
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(@drab_makyo) <a
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href="https://twitter.com/drab_makyo/statuses/433658641384607744">February 12,
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2014</a></blockquote>
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<script async src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js" charset="utf-8"></script>
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Ritual is like that. There is some level of meaning that's inexpressible
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except if you can find a way to come at it from the side. Use words like
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'portent'. Describe it as an odor, a sense, a mystery. Ritual and sensation
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are wily and wary critters that want nothing less than to be identified, pointed
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out, made plain. You're supposed to just go along with the ritual and accept
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the portentous as fact.
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