|Detail of Catiline, Cesare Maccari’s |
fresco, Palazzo Madama –
Doesn’t Catiline look as though
he’s losing his mind?
If I don’t write about losing my mind now – before I’ve completely lost it – how is it going to be written?
The first concerning thing that happened this morning – that is, second after the feeling, as I walked to the bathroom from bed, that I was a little more physically unbalanced than usual – was addressing Siegfried as “Cereal” when I signaled him that he could go ahead now and eat his kibble. I had just set my cereal bowl on the dining table and was in the act of sitting down (which had already let Siegfried know that the okay to eat was near at hand).
Another concerning thing is that when I was out in the back yard putting out the birds’ thistle and sunflower seed hearts, and reached into a pant pocket for a plastic bag with which to pick up a pile of Siegfried’s poop I had just spotted, there was none. Back inside the house, I discovered that I had forgotten which pocket I had stuffed some bags into – it had been the left pocket of my jacket, from which I now extracted three plastic bags.
Those “mental miscues” are concerning, but, then, as I was cleaning up the breakfast mess, I was able to imagine writing this piece, able to remember calling Siegfried “Cereal,” and able to remember forgetting where to look for the bags. But now I became a little concerned that, unless I hurried through the clean-up and started immediately to write this, I might forget about it, or not be able to remember what the two miscues had been.
These concerns are real (in case you are finding them hard to credit). I even replied to a Latin-scholar friend who wants me to edit his book about the Roman Senator Catiline's conspiracy to overthrow the Roman Republic in 63 BC – when my friend finishes writing it – that while I am looking forward to editing his book, he’d better not take too long, “because the rate at which I am losing my mind seems to be accelerating. I will post a short piece on this later today, or tomorrow.”
And this is it! I’ve managed it – not all of my mind is lost yet.
But what if I hadn’t managed it? What if I hadn't been able to remember?
Well, I suppose that someone who knows me well – and has communicated with me enough to collect some evidence that I do seem to be losing my mind – could use what they know, and their imagination, to invent a plausible account.
To the handful of correspondents to whom the preceding paragraph may refer: please be taking notes.
|Copyright © 2017 by Moristotle|