No news . . .

is good news, no doubt, on Northland. To reignite the wonder they will do it silently. It does not look like I’m going to get more drama, alas, but I’ve thought that before and how wrong I have been. It does look, however, more like a cold, quiet winter up there. I remember eating ramen and watching the snow fall on the quiet woods of Dunbar . . . and now I think how full a description that is of my time in college.

It makes me feel quite peckish. still has information and links and stuff, but if you go to you’ll see the deal: things start again June 1, 2016. Looks as if at the moment they have a year-round staff of one. Are they planning anything to cull the deer? All those cold, silent dorms, the quiet (at last!) library, the starving mice in the kitchen and dinning rooms, the sauna just another chilly room.

IDIOT-G ( I see has dwindled so far to monthly blogging. But in all fairness to his colorfulness, that’s a lot more than can be said of some other blogs these days. If we can’t bring back Northland in the end, can we at least bring back IDIOT-G?

* * *
Speaking of no news: when I went down to Princeton we were late, and so I was on the front row: five feet or so from Robert George and perhaps nine from Scruton. Scruton seemed to be working on the speech he was about to give even as the other two before him gave. He sat forward and sat back, he clutched his forehead and pulled at his hair, he gazed troubled at the floor, he even for a while adopted the posture of Rodin’s Thinker–to my great delight. Or was he playing games? His notes were handwritten on two pieces of paper, and he’d pull out a fountain pen every once in a while and write. He’d read, he’d shuffle, he make the briefest note and look again away. I am not sure, after all, that it was his notes for what he said and not something else. He was good in the questions: his serpentine, lidded expression, his absentminded way with the microphone, his stress on the important issue in a quiet voice.

Afterward he was available to talk to, but I could not think of anything to say until the next day, when I thought of an excellent question to ask that would have no doubt elicited torrents of insight and wisdom and caused me much joy.

What I did get out of going is a better sense of his size, how rumpled he is in real life, a bit more of his manner–the great man. But that is all.

Oh well, maybe next time.

2 thoughts on “No news . . .

  1. Ah, yes. He said that Plato believed all good teaching was sublimated erotic desire for the pupil. I wanted to understand that better. One of the other speakers had been Scruton’s pupil at one point.

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