Week in Seven Words #566

This covers the week of 11/22/20 - 11/28/20.

aggravate

A letter from him is like a fingernail picking at a scab.

animated

Vivid things will exist in my mind; if nowhere else, they will at least have come alive in my thoughts.

bald-faced

Politicians take the "quarantine for thee but not for me" approach to the holiday season. "Everybody stay home," they say, while traveling to see their own families and organizing dinners with cronies. "We're all in this together," they add.

peopled

We use our imagination to wish life into hollow spaces – the gap between the desk and the wall, an empty store with a "for rent" sign on it, an elevator that's out of order. We like to pretend the hollowness isn't real. The inhabitants (however fantastical) are there, and we may glimpse them from a certain angle or at a certain hour.

prioritization

We talk on the phone while simultaneously playing a text-based, browser-based fantasy game. Our conversation switches between serious topics (work, pandemic) to thoughts about the vampire in the forest and the dwarf who has a garage and a farmhouse.

recollections

Recurrent conversation 1: "Remember when we used to [insert pleasant memory about things we used to do during the holiday season]." Recurrent conversation 2: "When do you think we'll be able to enjoy [normal activity that we used to take for granted]?"

truant

"Remember how kids used to think of ways to cut class or skip school?" she says. Now, what you have to do is pretend your microphone isn't working. And look, your camera also isn't working, how awful.

9/11/12

Holocaust Remembrance Day (Yom HaShoah)

The song in the video, sung by Sophie Milman, is "Eli, Eli" - a poem written by Hannah Senesh and set to a melody composed by David Zahavi.

Senesh (1921-1944) was a Jewish parachutist who was captured by the Nazis and their collaborators in Hungary in 1944. After subjecting her to months of torture, through which they tried and failed to get information out of her about her mission, they executed her by firing squad.

Here's an English translation from the Hebrew of "Eli, Eli":

My God, my God,
May these things never end,
The sand and the sea,
The murmur of the water,
The lightning of the heavens,
The prayer of man.

אלי, אלי
שלא יגמר לעולם
החול והים
רשרוש של המים
ברק השמים
תפילת האדם

Week in Seven Words #101

anamnesis
This past fall I visited the 9/11 Memorial in New York City; where each tower stood, water spills for thirty feet into a pool and then descends into a dark square hole that looks like the mouth of an abyss. I think of the memorial as I walk in Times Square, where the city doesn't seem to have a past, but exists only in the colorful flashy present.

bird's-eye
High Line Park in NYC was built on a long section of elevated train tracks, now half-buried in long yellow grasses and shrubs. There are many interesting perspectives from the park: streets flowing across the city, the Hudson River bearing its freight, a view of slanting roofs, balconies and elevated patios, the Empire State Building peeking over a swarm of apartment buildings.

coasting
New Year's Eve: a fun movie, some intense video games, and a couple of hours of noise music made more bearable by the vodka cranberry I've been nursing since half past eight.

daredevils
Balloons tumble down East Houston Street between the wheels of buses and cars.

glaciate
A cold unyielding wind that numbs my jaw.

shifting
The street is full of bright signs with Chinese characters and tiny restaurants accessed via basement stairs, a center for Buddhism and red banners everywhere, and then suddenly you find an old splendid synagogue rising into a blue sky.

splashy
It's a day for walking and peeking into shop windows along the way. Mannequins in glittering dresses are on display, flowers entwined around reflections of the street outside, earrings and brooches in neat rows, stacked cups in different rainbow colors.

Extracts: "The better angels of our nature"

We are not enemies, but friends. We must not be enemies. Though passion may have strained it must not break our bonds of affection. The mystic chords of memory, stretching from every battlefield and patriot grave to every living heart and hearthstone all over this broad land, will yet swell the chorus of the Union, when again touched, as surely they will be, by the better angels of our nature. - from Lincoln's First Inaugural Address, 1861

Much-needed perspective.

More from Washington Square Park

A flame that burns constantly -



(But where there might have been another powerful quote or passage on that little plaque, there are instead some exasperating words of caution - a reminder of some people's diminished common sense and how litigious our society is.)



A procession with flags marks the start of a memorial ceremony.



Those assembled recite the Pledge of Allegiance, sing the National Anthem, and talk about never forgetting the sacrifices of those who serve in the military.



And during other times in the afternoon -



People seem to be gathered to hear Washington speak. And some of his words are on the memorial wall:

"The independence and liberty you possess are the work of joint councils and joint efforts of common dangers, suffering and success" (Washington Farewell Address, Sept. 17, 1796)





Some observe the monument intently.

Others warn their toddlers away from the flames.



Or they're off to the side, on their laptops.



The day is clear, burning and bright.

"Day is done, gone the sun..."

A photo of Washington Square Park in Philadelphia, the location of the Tomb of the Unknown Revolutionary War Soldier: Freedom is a light for which many men have died in darkness.

We remember and honor the men and women of our military.

Audio of SGM Woody English, U.S. Army Band, playing Taps.

Here's an interesting site on the history of the bugle call, Taps, played at military funerals and memorial events.

And some of the verses often set to the twenty-four notes:

Day is done, gone the sun,
From the lake, from the hills,
From the sky.
All is well, safely rest,
God is nigh.


Fades the light; And afar
Goeth day, And the stars
Shineth bright,
Fare thee well; Day has gone,
Night is on.


Thanks and praise, For our days,
'Neath the sun, Neath the stars,
'Neath the sky,
As we go, This we know,
God is nigh.