Saturday, August 18, 2007

Where Does Chess Lead, Where does it go?

Urges, at times sacred.

If you are not a professional chess player, where does it lead? Where does it all go?

I am burried in my RHP postal game, so this is a quiet time, but I am preparing a major post after recently finishing a major CTS unit and embarking on extensive analysis of quantities of GM games.

Stay tuned, soon! 'Work on chess' comes before 'writing about work on chess'.

Will I see Blunderpone in Seattle tomorrow? I doubt it, but might happen!

warmly, dk

One of my hikes with my oldest friend Tom with his very special girlfriend Evan

Duino Elegies, Rlike:

The First Elegy

Who, if I cried out, would hear me among the angels'
hierarchies? and even if one of them suddenly pressed me against his heart, I would perish in the embrace of his stronger existence.
For beauty is nothing but the beginning of terror which we are barely able to endure and are awed because it serenely disdains to annihilate us.
Each single angel is terrifying.
And so I force myself, swallow and hold back the surging call of my dark sobbing.
Oh, to whom can we turn for help?
Not angels, not humans;
and even the knowing animals are aware that we feel little secure and at home in our interpreted world.
There remains perhaps some tree on a hillside daily for us to see; yesterday's street remains for us stayed, moved in with us and showed no signs of leaving.
Oh, and the night, the night, when the wind full of cosmic space invades our frightened faces.

Seriousness of the situation

Whom would it not remain for -that longed-after, gently disenchanting night, painfully there for the solitary heart to achieve? Is it easier for lovers?
Don't you know yet ? Fling out of your arms the emptiness into the spaces we breath -perhaps the birds will feel the expanded air in their more ferven flight.
Yes, the springtime were in need of you. Often a star waited for you to espy it and sense its light.
A wave rolled toward you out of the distant past, or as you walked below an open window, a violin gave itself to your hearing.
All this was trust. But could you manage it?
Were you not always distraught by expectation, as if all this were announcing the arrival of a beloved? (Where would you find a place to hide her, with all your great strange thoughts coming and going and often staying for the night.) When longing overcomes you, sing of women in love; for their famous passion is far from immortal enough.
Those whom you almost envy, the abandoned and desolate ones, whom you found so much more loving than those gratified. Begin ever new again the praise you cannot attain; remember:
the hero lives on and survives; even his downfall was for him only a pretext for achieving his final birth. But nature, exhausted, takes lovers back into itself, as if such creative forces could never be achieved a second time.

Seeded by gods from overhead from we know not where?

Have you thought of Gaspara Stama sufficiently:

that any girl abandoned by her lover may feel from that far intenser example

of loving:
"Ah, might I become like her!" Should not their oldest sufferings finally become more fruitful for us?
Is it not time that lovingly we freed ourselves from the beloved and, quivering, endured:
as the arrow endures the bow-string's tension, and in this tense release becomes more than itself.
For staying is nowhere.
Voices, voices. Listen my heart, as only saints have listened: until the gigantic call lifted them clear off the ground. Yet they went on, impossibly, kneeling, completely unawares: so intense was their listening. Not that you could endure the voice of God -far from it! But listen to the voice of the wind and the ceaseless message that forms itself out of silence. They sweep toward you now from those who died young.
Whenever they entered a church in Rome or Naples, did not their fate quietly speak to you as recently as the tablet did in Santa Maria Formosa?
What do they want of me? to quietly remove the appearance of suffered injustice that, at times, hinders a little their spirits from freely proceeding onward.

"You dont think that I make a total effort, each and every time??"

as mighty chess great, Garry Kasparov, embodies masculine ferocity both inside and outside chess (married three times; can you imagine the situation of being on the rocks with him, then trying to discuss your feelings?)

Of course, it is strange to inhabit the earth no longer, to no longer use skills on had barely time to acquire; not to observe roses and other things that promised so much in terms of a human future, no longer
to be what one was in infinitely anxious hands; to even discard one's own name as easily as a child abandons a broken toy.
Strange, not to desire to continue wishing one's wishes.
Strange to notice all that was related, fluttering so loosely in space. And being dead is hard work and full of retrieving before one can gradually feel a trace of eternity. -Yes, but the liviing make the mistake of drawing too sharp a distinction.
Angels (they say) are often unable to distinguish between moving among the living or the dead.
The eternal torrent whirls all ages along with it, through both realms forever, and their voices are lost in its thunderous roar.
In the end the early departed have no longer need of us. One is gently weaned from things of this world as a child outgrows the need of its mother's breast. But we who have need of those great mysteries, we for whom grief is so often the source of spiritual growth, could we exist without them?
Is the legend vain that tells of music's beginning in the midst of the mourning for Linos?
the daring first sounds of song piercing the barren numbness, and how in that stunned space an almost godlike youth suddenly left forever, and the emptiness felt for the first time those harmonious vibrations which now enrapture and comfort and help us.

Translated by Albert Ernest Flemming

One of the great sensative souls in the early Twentieth Century... as our era of modernization was taking form... at which time, not all persons had been cast to sleep by the false comforts and false promises of industrialization... and expressed from this dislocation.


Blogger Blue Devil Knight said...

Classic DK. A nice poem. Are you messing around with CT-Art yet? Or still monogamous?

Off topic, I just email replied to someone claiming to be from Ghana saying he has a million dollars for me because someone died, that I just have to send him all my personal information, bank account, etc.. He sent me a picture so it has to be legit: those sort of things can't be faked. It must be him, and it must all be true!

I'm gonna be rich!

PS This rotating blogroll is fun. Less overwhelming.

PPS If I sound drunk it's because I'm procrastinating.

PPS IF I sound high it's because my damned back hurts.

PPS If I sound like I just took three hits of acid, it's because I'm listening to The Monkees.

PPPS Let us know if BP comes by. Careful, you know what BP stands for?

Sun Aug 19, 08:11:00 AM PDT  
Blogger transformation said...

so many things to respond to!

yes, spam is a serious problem. till recently, no one has found my direct email for two and one half years, but once they did, it is Viagra every day. id like to meet this sender and tell them what i think of them.

sorry about your back. i know all about this. stretching and diet are key, and a stronger stomach.

just called Blunderprone, from his message to me today, and we hope to meet for coffee briefly tomorrow before i go back to work (i work late).

monogamous? my appetites as significant, but, alas, 100% always only goes to one place. i have never lived otherwise, but have dated a few who seemed confused as to what this meant for me. it is not men (or women) who cheat, but people.

i do have an eye for beauty, but who doesnt?

more at my next post, but, for now:

busy with my postal game, hours per day believe it or not, very, very deep, and very, very heuristical.

then Reinfelds 1001 book. 45 per week is not joke. yes, some are too easy, but some can kill you.

i am at a pause at CTS for now, and

what time remains goes for GM games, three per day most days, five on a weekend, but not always. this last one is truly exhausting.

CT-Art is going to start back at my annual summer vacation in 12 days. home with my creativity, and doubt i will climb, but if i do, i need to start running daily soon!

warmest, dk

Sun Aug 19, 12:54:00 PM PDT  
Blogger Blue Devil Knight said...

I start physical therapy Wednesday. This experience has shown me why so many people hate western medicine and go to chiropractors.

Good to see your intensity is still up there in the clouds! Climbers tend to be pretty focused people, I've noticed! :O

Sun Aug 19, 02:16:00 PM PDT  
Blogger transformation said...

my experience is that the skepticism TOWARDS chiropractors is VERY misguided--and i have been to many, some of them true world class masters.

but, at the same time, it is often not a source of long term rectification, but, rather, from a systemic point of view, a place where they can create an opening in your body within which change, or self healing can occur, not unlike homeopathy.

a single drop of water can reorganize a physical system, PROVIDED it is the right drop. the wrong drop, and, yes, its voodoo.

intensity? that IS my life. in my thirties, i felt like i was burning inside. in my early forties, i RAN to the bathroom at morgan stanley to save time.

approaching fifty: no time to waste on inauthentic relationships; more time to contribute to others SELECTIVELY who seek to wake up, that is to say, see the world in a conscious way.

i still mentor young men, albiet informally. i am not unkind, but to the point. if they dont listen, i walk; if they listen, they get more.

[when Rashid Ziyadinov in his essays at silmans site, of GM Ram kind, says that not one student has ever make it through the one thousand positions to be memorized, i have been throught that here...

... many, maybe forty persons have come to me, wanting to learn investing, which i know at a very sophisicated level, both technically, quanitatively, and psychologically, but not one has been able to do the basics i ask for...

... if i only charge money, it would go better!...

... then to get there, i must teach them effiveness...

... then, to teach that, theuy need inner integrity, with THEMSELVES...

...absent that, it all ends fast...]

believe me, i tell them what reality is, what they can change, what they cannot, and where the difference is. kinda of like being a 'street sociologist'.

back ... back to my massive defrag and compress on my life on a sunday afternoon, waiting for Lydia to call to see if we are still on for an early pm video, meet her four year old and see her house for the first time, should be enlightening...

warmest, dk

ps, i make my move at RHP: filled with deep traps confering positional advantage, long term all the way to ending if pawn is not accepted. accept pawn, and its a loss. blk is too far behind, and all can point at his by then naked king.

Sun Aug 19, 02:38:00 PM PDT  
Blogger transformation said...

the famous quote, deep in the bitteroot mountains, in eastern montana or is it idaho, of Lewis and Clark: "April 19th, Lolo Pass, General Clark and his men met deep snow here" or so...

instead: 7:55pm: 'DK leaves home, up from the famous street that literally used to be "Skid-row", or Yessler, to meet the now famous Blunderpone and his wife down near the coastal pacific, in the form of Elliot Bay, at a famous Sushi resturant'.

(when the loggers and miners hit the skids, they would get drunk and literally slide down Yessler, a gigantic greased platform that allowed the capaciously tall logs or timbers to slide down into Elliot Bay for further processing), or such, in the wild days of the turn of the last century when the west was wild, and gold flowed freely.

now broadband is what flows, in addition (addiction) to US Fiscal debt.

:) more latter! dk

Sun Aug 19, 08:00:00 PM PDT  
Blogger BlunderProne said...


It was a GREAT pleasure to meet you. You are everything I imagined adn more in Person. I hope other Bloggers do the same and take a chance on meeting you ... and others in person.


BP ( aka George)

Sun Aug 19, 10:13:00 PM PDT  
Blogger Blue Devil Knight said...

That's great that you met.

I'm hoping a lot of bloggers make it out to the World Open next year.

Here are the dates:
July 2-6, 3-6, 4-6 or June 30-July 6, 2008: World Open, Philadelphia PA

Perhaps unfortunate that it is on the fourth of july, but I guess it is a good vacation time for many...But I prefer to blow shit up.

We should have a Bloggers Knight Out while there.

Temposchlucker, what's the chance you could come out for it? Come to our country, enjoy the crazy holiday and crazy chess. If we have to, we'll buy you a ticket (well, I'd chip in at least 20 bucks :)).

Mon Aug 20, 12:19:00 AM PDT  
Blogger Temposchlucker said...

Living in the Mecca of chess, that chance is close to zero. If I will play a tournament abroad it will probably be the Open des Vins du Medoc. Here the winner gets his weight in wine, which gives me an edge in the unlikely case:)

Mon Aug 20, 12:36:00 AM PDT  

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