Archive for February, 2020

H.E.Bird

What is an obituary: it is a composition of achievements written for the profit of the publication it it sold in. As you would expect, before academia began professionalizing itself, the history of the deceased here offered is threadbare and has an unpleasant otherworldly charm about it. The death of H.E.Bird can be found here in the 1908 version of The British Championships.

Why do we repost obituaries? Sentimentality? Yep, I played 1. f4 for most my life and even played Bird’s line in the Lopez. That man means more to my own opening repertoire than any other player, and most certainly more than whoever wrote that archaic trollop which says almost nothing about his life and character as a human being, as the magazine’s readership requested.

Henry Edward Bird. Born July 14th 1829, died April 11th 1908…so it is claimed.

‘Jürgen Habermas’ (and his) obituary to friend and philosopher, Richard Rorty

One small autobiographical piece by Rorty bears the title ‘Wild Orchids and Trotsky.’ In it, Rorty describes how as a youth he ambled around the blooming hillside in north-west New Jersey, and breathed in the stunning odour of the orchids. Around the same time he discovered a fascinating book at the home of his leftist parents, defending Leon Trotsky against Stalin. This was the origin of the vision that the young Rorty took with him to college: philosophy is there to reconcile the celestial beauty of orchids with Trotsky’s dream of justice on earth. Nothing is sacred to Rorty the ironist. Asked at the end of his life about the ‘holy’, the strict atheist answered with words reminiscent of the young Hegel: ‘My sense of the holy is bound up with the hope that some day my remote descendants will live in a global civilization in which love is pretty much the only law.
― Jürgen Habermas

Mark.J.McCready

Read Full Post »

“Parenthood…It’s about guiding the next generation, and forgiving the last.”
― Peter Krause (Parenthood)

Read Full Post »

Get this: I enter my daughter into the National Championships of the country where she was born. She is entered into the girls U-8 section, which I thought she’d find a cinch. Her results are here:
http://chess-results.com/tnr513631.aspx?lan=1&art=1

The bottom line is she just isn’t ready, losing one game in only 6 moves. I found it hard on many levels. I have hyper mania and have had it since my main accident on Oct 9th 2016. Instead of sleeping I am up all night sprinting down dark lanes listening to dark heavy metal. Then it’s a motorbike to where the temple is, a walk over a long bridge, a taxi ride, 21 stops on the skytrain and, a sprint across a major city junction -not the sort of start to a day of chess your opening moves should bear resemblance towards and care for a dependent daughter relishes.

Despite my rusted eyes, photography responsibilities came to the fore, but because the chief arbiter didn’t know me, I had to put him in his place. The organizer, an old playing partner, stopped him short and let me come and go as I pleased whilst all other parents were booted out about a minute before play began -leaving me to click away until the fatigue made my eyes too heavy. Here are some of the pics I took of my daughter.

With parenthood patience becomes a virtue. And on a lighter note, because I have hyper mania and never sleep, on the train between rounds I dropped and went right to the end of the line, fifteen stations past the one I was meant to alight -Pra Khanong, which means temple village by translation. The security guard had trouble waking me up. When I got booted off the train I was propa fucked – but miles away from where I needed to be made me laugh more than anything. The next day I nodded off on the train again but only went one station past where I was meant to alight this time. At least it gave me good reason to flirt with a super hot mum whose daughter played mine. Tough old five days that was, thankfully with it being a long holiday there were less muppets in the city.

A lot more work lies ahead and speaking of which, it’s 0340 and time for another run down down lanes with dark heavy metal blasting out the old eardrums. Only 4.32kms everyday with a 1.6 km bike ride. Nothing much but sorely felt during official events…

“The soul is healed by being with children.”
― Fyodor Dostoevsky

Read Full Post »

Caught cold

As a loving and panglossian father, I wrongly assumed within 6 months my daughter would be doing all too well… .

I learn from parenthood that patience is both a virtue, and crucially, a necessity.

I entered Grace into the Girls U8 section of her National Championships thinking she had real chances…oops. Instead we could only encourage her to enjoy the event and pay no attention to the results. This meant I had to drag the old camera out. I have an eye for photography still but its a rusty eye.

IMG_0766

Read Full Post »

Not since living in Azerbaijan have I had to dust off ye olde Canon. Now some might consider that rather forlorned, which it is, but it’s what ya do with what ya got which counts the most.

I love my Portrait Lens and it’s f1.8 shallow depth of field, as ya shall surely see. It’s me daughter’s first chance to represent her country so a rusty me will be a creative-me too, as yee shall see… .

As esteemed chess coach Richard James will tell you results so rarely matter when they are so young…

best-canon-portrait-lens

https://chessimprover.com/contributors/richard-james/

Read Full Post »

« Newer Posts