Hi, Catalina. Thanks for the pictures. I wrote my partly-in-Russian letter today on my cyrillic typewriter but, ironically, although I knew that the cyrillic alphabet derives from St Cyril (c827-869), I didn’t know his actual name was Constantine – the same as my Russian friend! Too late now…
¡uʍop-ǝpᴉsdn s,ʇᴉ ɥƃnoɥʇ uǝʌǝ sᴉɥʇ pɐǝɹ llᴉʍ ǝuoǝɯos uᴉɐʇɹǝɔ ʎʇʇǝɹd ɯ,I
I ⅋ O ɹ p
!&?: Yes, I was thinking about that, too: what happens if 100s of pages are posted daily? I suppose pages could appear on a first-come basis, with a daily limit. But even that would involve extra work for Daniel Marleau.
HA! That’s awesome. How’d you do that?
Hi, DRO&I: Go to this link: https://www.upsidedowntext.com/
Write whatever you want in one box, and it automatically comes out backwards or upside-down (whichever you prefer, or both) in the box below. pɐǝɥ ʎɯ oʇ ƃuᴉɥsnɹ poolq ǝɥʇ sdoʇs ʇᴉ ‘ǝɯᴉʇ ǝɥʇ llɐ ʇᴉ ǝsn I
˙ ˙ ˙sᴉɥʇ ɹǝʌo llɐ ɯ,I ‘ɥɐǝʎ ɥO
hm – Thanks for the book recommendation (via Kent). I just downloaded the audio book and am excited to dive into it.
dro&i – I admit that, despite having *FOMO, I was fully prepared to ignore the upside down portion of your typed page. I was going to read what was easy and convenient and simply ignore the rest but then you mentioned wanting to hug your Underwood and that was it, I was compelled to read more. Nice trick mentioning Tom Hanks! You got me there. Also, what do 80s yuppie clothes smell like? Wendelstein is the coolest cat ever. =^–^=
*fear of missing out
I’d read something not too long ago addressing the perception of sight, which mentioned what blind people “see,” if anything. Do they see black? Or is it like that place beyond our periphery where it simply cannot be recognized? It doesn’t exist. When I see videos about cats born without eyes I imagine they think everybody is blind, they cannot even fathom the notion of light, or seeing, and unlike people, you can never explain it to them. What IS a lack of sight?
It mentioned the difference between blind due to eye damaged, and blind because of brain trauma. For years I’ve wondered what I would see if I lost vision for various reasons, and so when I lost my sense of smell yesterday (which is still 100% gone), I was fascinated. At first I really didn’t notice anything, which reminded me of eye sight loss due to brain trauma. Thinking on our blind spots, our brains stitch together the world we see around them, or through them, in spite of them, seamlessly. Noticing how I was unaffected by my loss of smell, that I just sort of worked through it, seamlessly, without notice, it felt, I dunno, khaki. At first I thought of the smell of snow, but even snow has a smell. Now I smell nothing, as if there is no such thing as smell. Yuppie clothes mean absolutely nothing to me.
Yesterday I was smelling something, pickled prunes I bought at an Asian market here in Seattle. They’re super salty, like, roll-around-on-the-floor salty, like a lemon. I’ll eat one from time to time on some sort of self dare. I smelled them deeply yesterday and though nothing registered, my mouth started to water. No tingles up my spine, no wincing facial expression associated with eating a lemon, just watering glands. It was weird. My sense of smell lives now in the far right of the edge of my vision.
I can remember a perfume. But I wonder if the loss of the sense of smell will eventually atrophy memories of smell?
I wonder what Wendelstein thinks?
TORI, will be curious to hear what you think of The Cassandra.
DROI, three books relevant to your musings:
1. Jose Saramago, Blindness (translated from Portugese)
2. Jose Saramago, Seeing (translated from Portugese)
3. Oliver Sacks, An Anthropologist on Mars
The first is about an epidemic of blindness that suddenly strikes an entire country. Those who once saw but are suddenly blind experience blindness as a white sickness, as a turning on of the lights not a turning off of the lights. Everything, for them, is milky white.
The second is about what happens when, in an ostensibly democratic society, 80% of voters return blank ballots in a municipal election. It is a loose sequel to Blindness.
Saramago won the Nobel Prize for Literature, and of the many possible readings of Blindness, one is as a harrowing description of our contemporary world. “I don’t think we did go blind. I think we are blind. Blind but seeing. Blind people who can see, but do not see.”
The third book is a series of nonfiction essays by the acclaimed late neurologist about people who experience traumatic brain injury and suddenly lose one of their senses. A chef who suddenly can no longer taste. A painter who suddenly only sees in grayscale.
A typist who can no longer smell.
Smell better soon.
A constant white light. That sounds nightmarish. To never escape it. I suspect one thrust into darkness would wish for it, and one blanketed in light would want for someplace to hide. Interesting.
I leaned forward to sense the Underwood’s smell.
It bothered me so that I couldn’t tell.
The scent of a woman, I’ve lost that again?
If that’s to continue, that’s nine out of ten.
Nothing sings like the evening dew.
Maybe I deserve this. Maybe that’s true.
DRO&I: Notice if you mention my name, you get more readership ratings. It’s like a picture on Instagram with a cat gets far more “likes” than a picture of food. I right clicked your OTP page and printed it to read. Hahahah!
I think I owe you some kind of commission, lol. You take Bitcoin???
Thank-you, Catalina, for the welcome. I love your Kliban’s cat in the red high heels. So elegant. Mine , Sneakers Cat, comes carefully cut from a calendar. He’s döppelganger for my boycat, Jimmy, who will be the main subject in a forthcoming despatch.