Monday, 26th of September, 2016
I hesitate to write. Infinity is a large subject, and is and is not here. I am at the café with a coffee and a cigarette and no money having spent almost my last penny on a third coffee.
I thought I would write when I got home to Reality, around the corner, but why not now?
I cannot send you those discs with the talks on infinity because I cannot get my cd recorder to work, including the new one I bought last weekend. Barry, as I said, has concussion from a knee in the head he got while at ju-jitsu on Sunday. He was to come and I hoped to get him to fix things so I can make recordings. But that was not to be, so you must wait for my cd’s and music I promised you. Another must wait too, the other Michael. I have his music at home, but there it must stay until another day.
With this letter I send you several things. A photograph of Michael’s redbrick house taken by himself at my request showing its name, Sin E, That’s It or That’s That in the English language translated from Irish, the sign made in wood by Louis Clear, carpenter, who made the sign for our house, nameplate, Reality, also in wood. We live in reality.
Michael’s house has a redbrick wall around and a yellow brick road to the door, put there by himself very recently, using skilled labour. Very tasteful, very good, a credit to him and all concerned.
Also here a printout made by George from a book on Irish newspapers about the paper I worked on when young and foolish, the Southern Star, incorporating the Skibbereen Eagle. Those were the days!
Anyway, infinity. In the talks on disc this is discussed from the view of the ancient Greeks to the present day, philosophically, theologically, mathematically and cosmologically and I don’t know what else. Immortality, do we want it? This question is raised as a point for discussion and discussed for some length but not to infinity.
Mathematics, amazingly enough, proves that mathematics does not work. Some mathematicians went mad, possibly realising their work was in vain. So also did Babbage, father of computing.
Am I mad? You may well ask. I have been so diagnosed. R. D. Laing said insanity is the only sane response to living in an insane world. I disagree, sanity for me.
I apologise for not sending you infinity with this letter, this is due to circumstances beyond my control. You must wait for infinity, and music.
I will put this letter on my blog when I get home and post it to you today, circumstances permitting. I may even read it to you on the phone, who knows?
It is not often that the gift of infinity is offered, buy now while stocks last.
This is a taste of things to come.
All things come to he who waits.
With love from David.
I will also send you the disc on the Emerald Elvis, as promised. I am not forgetting.
The world forgetting by the world forgot.
And I quote. C’est la vie. Say the old folks, which goes to show you never can tell. (Chuck Berry).
I go home.
Infinity is worth waiting for.
26th September, 2016
Click on white triangle when picture shows