Of Foucault.

For my reformed dissertation committee, one member who's contributing on methodology advised that I look at early Foucault.

I did, and to tell the truth, I was absolutely surprised at how relevant it was.

People talk about his obsession with social construction so much, you forget sometimes that he really delved into trippy topics for a number of early research projects on the formation of modern disciplines.

The one book that I'm looking at the - "The Archaeology of Knowledge" - is the result of what he learned as a historian, and he really does strip down topics and build them back up again in useful ways, that are really worth considering.

More historians in my circles should really read him, and I'm serious about that.  It's one of the more useful "on historiography" books that I've read.

International presence in my neighborhood.

The other weekend I was reading outside at this one coffee shop in my neighborhood, and this (young) (white?) guy who I was sharing the table with struck up a conversation with me on Marx, since I was reviewing some Marx in preparation for a class coming up that week.

Before that, he had been dicking around on his smartphone and had a double or triple espresso out on the table, and every once in a while he'd go and smoke a cigarette, and he didn't seem in any particular hurry.

As it turns out, he's Berber and lives in the neighborhood, and he had won a green card to the U.S. in the Algerian lottery.

Later, some of his friends from the pizza place he works at joined him, and they just sat outside smoking with strong coffee and talking forever in French, while I had moved over and was sitting at another table, both to make room for them and so I could work some.

"You're recreating an Algerian cafe!", I told the guy, as I moved over.

He agreed, and loved that observation.

They really were.  A little piece of North African culture, right in my neighborhood.

Fun movie audience.

The day of my long stroll home, I had been to see a 1970s Italian comedy at the cinema.

It was both very political and very raunchy, and there was a row of (middle-aged to older) (Italian) women a couple rows behind me (I had heard them talking Italian before the movie began, that's how I knew they were Italian from Italy).

Anyhow, it was very fun, to hear how loud the Italian women laughed at some parts.

Also, a classical music piece kicked in for a scene at one point, and a couple of them started almost immediately humming along to its melody.

I didn't recognize the piece, but it must be or have been something known in Italy.

How cool, to have a chance to watch that film with them.

I bet some of them were in their prime or just past it back in Italy back in the 1970s, and they saw it in original release.

I wonder if it took them back to their youth.

On disconnected life.

The other week when I got out of a double feature downtown on a weekend and had no more plans for the day, I found myself strolling home since the weather was so pleasant, like an hour-and-half just meandering through downtown and Chinatown and whatnot till I finally got home.

It was such a pleasure just to lollygag and look at things.

It felt nice not to be looking at a screen so much, but actually looking at concrete things, with reality, and having them be solid and not flashing or scrolled down or clicked into something else.

I do like smartphones for news connectivity and Twitter, but otherwise they fuck with your head.

An effective lie.

So, somewhere I somehow lost a book on the history of Satanism that I was reading, though I'm not sure how or where.

So, because my school has a "buy a replacement copy" and "a thirty-five dollar processing fee" policy in these types of situations, I ordered a replacement copy, and I also cooked up a story that the book was stolen out of my bag when I left it on the coatrack at a bar downtown, on the off chance that that would let me wiggle out of the $35 "processing" fee.

When I spoke with the circ supervisor, then, I told him my story, and I was like, "You know, I had one other library book in there, but that one was left alone, I bet it was some drunko who stole the book just because it was on Satanism!".

I gave him the name of the bar, too, for a touch of realism.

"That happens a lot," he was like.  "Some of the most stolen books at public libraries are on Satanism and witchcraft."

And, he then waived the $35 "processing" fee for me.

Kind box office person.

A few weeks ago I suggested a Monday night concert to my one (half British) (half Sudanese) friend (the sister of the brother-sister pair), and she was totally up for it, especially since it was only ten dollars.

I had been talking the ensemble up to a lot of people since I had caughten one of their concerts last year, but when I called up the box office to get the two tickets since the website wasn't showing anything near that price, the woman on the phone explained to me that that was actually a student price, and that they don't advertise it too broadly since some people claim they're students when they're actually not.

"Shoot-a-root-toot," I was like.  "I'm a student, but my friend who I invited is not, and I told her it was just ten bucks, since I didn't understand that that was just a student price."

Then, I was like, "It really wouldn't matter since she's a lawyer, but she's not really a lawyer, since she still has a hundred and twenty thousand in debt, and she was just hoping for a cheap Monday night out.  Otherwise, I know she'd get a full price seat, and I'd get a student ticket and join her."

"I hear that," the box office woman was like.  

Then, after a pause, she was like, "Let me get you two student tickets."

And she did!

She also said to call them up day-of in the future if anything like that happened, and if there were any tickets left, they could usually cut a deal.

Man, have I been ravenous for films lately.

Now that my dissertation and stuff is winding down, I've found myself ravenous for films.

There's been a good directorial retrospective at this arthouse cinema that I like, and for a few successive Saturdays recently I've been catching a mid-afternoon double feature.

It really is like my studies and all the attendant bullshit took up a shit-ton of time and kept me from living.

Good riddance to that shit.