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June 05, 2009

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My actual memories of John Lennon include only "Double Fantasy" and his tragic murder the year I was in eighth grade.

I linked to your blog today on my own -- the last few posts have been just so great.

Sigh. The complexity of my feelings about John Lennon defy expression. More than anyone, for better and worse, he made the psychological world I grew up in. I've never quite forgiven him for that, or learned to thank him for it.

Oh, how close it all seems. Must I consign this to history?

With you all the way, Dale.

At the time of his death, I was living in Seattle. People on the bus that day spontaneously began to talk to each other about it. I’m not sure I’ve seen that happen since.

Just two seconds of his voice and you know who it is. Lennon and the Beatles aren’t history for us who were there. Or rather they are history, but that’s because we’re becoming historical too. The events that defined us, or by which we defined ourselves, are moving into the past, out of the window of lived memory, just as WWII has.

DDC: Thank you for your comment, I'm delighted to hear from you. You've put your finger on something I've been thinking about a great deal: the scrolling passage of time where the recent past is so dominant, the newest events the most compelling, while past events, regardless of their importance, inevitably recede into what becomes known as "history," along with those of us who have been defined by events occurring in the past. As a writer, I see the importance of chronicling those times in a way that captures their essence as much as possible, but I also accept that "understanding" is always subjective and colored by the context of the reader's life itself. As a philosopher, how do you describe and grapple with time and memory?

I'm very happy to find out about your blog and will be reading it from now on!

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Who was Cassandra?


  • In the Iliad, she is described as the loveliest of the daughters of Priam (King of Troy), and gifted with prophecy. The god Apollo loved her, but she spurned him. As a punishment, he decreed that no one would ever believe her. So when she told her fellow Trojans that the Greeks were hiding inside the wooden horse...well, you know what happened.

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