all itchy skin and anxiety
leaning on my bleeding ear--
a picture of self-containment
lucid dreaming of the carpet
of clover my father laid for me
fresh in the dew of spring
before the tall grasses grew
before the northern breezes
blew the summer seed...
The connection was through the drawing.
Take or leave the writing as you wish )
I can't see a connection between the piece and Catch 22. Is it an Emperor's New Clothes thing?
Yep, David, it was a great movie and an even better book. And the take-off scene from which the ink drawing is taken is phenomenal--I'm drawn to aeronautics of any sort and that particular feat of cinematics along with Yossarian have been inspiring to me on many levels...
“..there’s a psychiatrist who thinks I’m not good enough to be in the Army.’
‘I’m the one who isn’t good enough to be in the Army,’ Dunbar whined jealously. ‘It was my dream.’
‘It’s not the dream, Dunbar,’ Yossarian explained. ‘He likes your dream. It’s my personality. He thinks it’s split.’
‘It’s split right down the middle,’ said Major Sanderson, who had laced his lumpy GI shoes for the occasion and had slicked his charcoal-dull hair down with some stiffening and redolent tonic. He smiled ostentatiously to show himself reasonable and nice. ‘I’m not saying that to be cruel and insulting,’ he continued with cruel and insulting delight.
‘I’m not saying it because I hate you and want revenge. I’m not saying it because you rejected me and hurt my feelings terribly. No, I’m a man of medicine and I’m being coldly objective. I have very bad news for you. Are you man enough to take it?’
‘God, no!’ screamed Yossarian. ‘I’ll go right to pieces.’
Major Sanderson flew instantly into a rage. ‘Can’t you even do one thing right?’ he pleaded, turning beet-red with vexation and crashing the sides of both fists down upon his desk together. ‘The trouble with you is that you think you’re too good for all the conventions of society. You probably think you’re too good for me too, just because I arrived at puberty late. Well, do you know what you are? You’re a frustrated, unhappy, disillusioned, undisciplined, maladjusted young man!’
Major Sanderson’s disposition seemed to mellow as he reeled off the uncomplimentary adjectives.
‘Yes, sir,’ Yossarian agreed carefully. ‘I guess you’re right.’
‘Of course I’m right. You’re immature. You’ve been unable to adjust to the idea of war.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘You have a morbid aversion to dying. You probably resent the fact that you’re at war and might get your head blown off any second.’
‘I more than resent it, sir. I’m absolutely incensed.’
‘You have deep-seated survival anxieties. And you don’t like bigots, bullies, snobs or hypocrites. Subconsciously there are many people you hate.’
‘Consciously, sir, consciously,’ Yossarian corrected in an effort to help. ‘I hate them consciously.’
‘You’re antagonistic to the idea of being robbed, exploited, degraded, humiliated or deceived. Misery depresses you. Ignorance depresses you. Persecution depresses you. Violence depresses you. Slums depress you. Greed depresses you. Crime depresses you. Corruption depresses you. You know, it wouldn’t surprise me if you’re a manicdepressive!’
‘Yes, sir. Perhaps I am.’
‘Don’t try to deny it.’
‘I’m not denying it, sir,’ said Yossarian, pleased with the miraculous rapport that finally existed between them. ‘I agree with all you’ve said.’
‘Then you admit you’re crazy, do you?’
‘Crazy?’ Yossarian was shocked. ‘What are you talking about? Why am I crazy? You’re the one who’s crazy!’
Major Sanderson turned red with indignation again and crashed both fists down upon his thighs. ‘Calling me crazy,’ he shouted in a sputtering rage, ‘is a typically sadistic and vindictive paranoiac reaction! You really are crazy!’
‘Then why don’t you send me home?’
‘And I’m going to send you home!’
‘They’re going to send me home!’ Yossarian announced jubilantly, as he hobbled back into the ward.
‘Me too!’ A. Fortiori rejoiced. ‘They just came to my ward and told me.’
‘What about me?’ Dunbar demanded petulantly of the doctors.
‘You?’ they replied with asperity. ‘You’re going with Yossarian. Right back into combat!’
And back into combat they both went.”
–Catch-22, Joseph Heller
Hi landi,
The still photo (I believe taken from Catch-22) only deepens the mystery of this.
One might conclude that you are identifying with Yossarians dilemma of being trapped in the futility of ridiculous rules, similar in some ways to being trapped within the genetics we inherit.
Always good to read and observe a writer that requires some thought.
David.
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Landi Cruz
Thu 20th Feb 2025 17:47
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=cMOKamtpUA8&pp=ygUhcHJldGVuZGVycyBiYWNrIG9uIHRoZSBjaGFpbiBnYW5n