MYRIAD MUSINGS: It’s my birthday. Fifty-three. Hurricane Irene’s bearing down on the City. There are obvious analogs to toilet training. Paging, Dr. Freud. Witness the power of the parietal lobe and locus of control. The fear of the hurricane is warranted. It’s also atavistic. It reminds us of when we first ran into the wrath of an unpredictable nature. So we gave it a name: God. And we prayed to it and sacrificed people and things. Anything to gain control. And in all those years, nothing much’s changed. Be careful.
Hell’s Kitchen 26 Aug 2011 CE