Station Identification Tetraptych, vol. SECOND PANEL, BOTT

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Can you teach an old trickster new dogs? I don't rightly know, but I do know I'm hungry as a hound on holiday in the Hamptons and the pickins is good in the Palace pantry: time to fuel up, fuel up, fuel up while the previous clip is still uploading [Editor's note: 22% as I type at 12:34pm] and then maybe figure out the soundtrack to this one and finish off the description with which to adorn it!

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Yezzah, back at my desk now, if not totally sated then at the least satisfied to note my totemic allure in a Jay's jersey and a black cardigan and ever so delighted to be sipping on bitter ambrosia! [Editor's note: no more nectar of the gods; I finished my bean sweat while I was looking for a more elegant synonym for "good looks" than "handsomeness", alas!] Is it old hat for me to break the quaternary framework I initially purported to be working within? Perhaps, but I'm not sure I've ever devoted much attention to reflecting on why it's a technique I enjoy using, nor have I ever peeled back the curtain with the implication that one more clip in fact points the way towards an entire squaring of an already square form.

Speaking of techniques, allow me to indulge in a brief aside on something I've noticed during this exercise before I comment on the reasoning behind my predilection for formal trickery: it's clear that in fording this river senza the guiding claw of the omniscient and benevolent element the turtle symbolizes, I am experiencing a certain aversion to risk-taking that is leading me to fall back on reliable forms. I only had one clip in mind when the first of this series was shot yesterday, but I decided to call it a tetraptych as I have come to enjoy doing now and again and upload it immediately just to see what would come if I forced myself to follow through on the implication of doing so. Lo and behold, it paid off in spades and here I am flush with five more clips besides this one to arrange and adorn in linguistic finery on top of the original quartet and apparently six more to shoot as well.

Now I find myself inaugurating that process by falling back on an old technique I liked to employ when I used to keep a private journal wherein I would make a point of contextualizing the act of journalling before changing the context in which I was writing within a single entry, albeit separated with a pair of slashes indicating the shift. I found it fascinating to see how starting a thought and then cutting it off midstream to pick it up elsewhere, sometimes literally mid-sentence or mid-word if I was moving around on public transit in the process and thus compelled by the momentum of forces over which I exercised no control, for instance, would alter the course of my thoughts in unexpected and inspiring ways. Has it been at all fruitful here? The self-examination involved in calling attention to it certainly makes the journalistic aspect of HGTV's function for me more explicit than it usually is, but I don't rightly know that I couldn't have achieved that by other means so it's hard to say… I do know, however, that when I first mused upon setting this clip to the music I have chosen to soundtrack it, I experienced a mild version of the same tingling sensation on my head and back which initially convinced me to start joking that I was hopelessly in love with you upon experiencing it so intensely the first few times that I watched the video for Shake It Off after having returned from my first trip to Naples, and at the exact instant that my espresso finished brewing, to boot, so there's that..

Oh, and it's my desire to draw parallels between the insight realization process which forms the backbone of my religious activity and the ideas on self-organizing critical systems Per Bak discusses in his book How Nature Works that tingles muh jimmies when I smash tetraptychs like a pumpkin dropped onto the pavement from a fire escape above, don'tcha know? [Editor's note: I really hoped I could sample your hilarious Minnesota soccer mom saying that ending tag for an earlier clip, but I guess I need a certain super-genius to educate me on the dang subtleties of matriarchal midwestern mannerisms, eh?]

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