Requiem, Third Movement

Emphysema at least offers the distraction of providing interesting observations while it kills you, like a long and slow poisoning by carbon monoxide. The attack I had yesterday, successfully contained, was particularly bad, and I am gradually being drowned in my own pus. I find this starkly amusing, and no counselor would lift me out of this otherwise, the attacks being fierce after Tim cleans; perhaps it is bleach fumes. I temporarily removed the air freshener, and believe I will get through the weekend without needing script for steroids or oxygen therapy. I should have stopped smoking at 19 when I puked in padre's bathroom from tonsillitis. Padre did not modify the bathroom very well.

Are there any decent families left in this country? A brief member of my Jerry-clique, a nursing student named Nancy Hoffel, was right. She argued with me about tobacco, and while I don't much care about life shortening effects in and of themselves, emphysema (or COPD, more likely, since I have always had episodes of bronchitis) has coruscating aspects, in unexpected ways. My mother's butch buddy has similar issues with COPD, and both Tim the assistant and custodial Mike have stage 1. I may be at stage 3 out of 5, if we play the medical lottery, but know my time is short, and my family just doesn't care in the sense of helping me make a move toward more tranquil resettlement.

I am looking for my damaged hard copy of Moby Dick. I want the foot notes of this great literary rip off. I have a digital copy, signifying how much I love this American epic, but want to plug my notes in the kindle, and will search again when the flush of my fever subsides. The novel needs to be read, and students need to take the effort, including the passages Melville lifts straight from the Essex tragedy, because Melville transforms this into the tragedy of the American destiny. It is our epic, and I brook no dissent from anyone on the matter. It speaks to us even in our contemporary matrix.

Huston's film with Peck, in my estimation, is the most faithful adaptation to Melville's intent, but there is no film that matches the breadth of Melville's narrative. I cannot work anymore right now; hopefully this will pass, but the episodes are progressive, and worsening, despite my willpower and fish oil and my luck with diet in lessening the worst impact of control issues.