Nov 4.

11/4/2025 11:03. Correspondence 77

A good day. A busy day. 我今天很忙。 There is so much I could talk about. 

I met with a professor for coffee. I went to a county council meeting. I made a set of study flash cards. I meticulously poured over my schedule for next year. I researched and polished up a presentation that I'm presenting tomorrow. And so so so so so much studying. A long day. But a wonderful one as well. Full of fulling and hopeful moments. Although my eyes are heavy, I can look behind me a be proud of what I have accomplished today. I can also be proud of the world in this moment. 

Local government is an enigma. It is alluring yet tedious. There is a magic in the stuffy bureaucratic air. Gray buildings and beige walls containing soft spoken words or intense arguments. Richland County Council exemplified this dichotomy so profoundly. I walked into the council room and knew the familiar comforts. I urge you, reader, to go to at least one local government meeting. They are boring and dull and monotonous. Everyone seems to speak a different language of motions, ordinances, and amendments. Yet it is so fulfilling to see gears turn. It is so magical to see behind the proverbial curtain. At least for me, it truly feels like you are watching something special. Something you snuck in to and should be kicked out of. Yet you are not. You belong there. Everyone belongs there. We the people, after all. So express your right and duty, and watch people in your community elected talk slowly about motion 13 a through d. You won't regret it. 

I can be rather negative at times. I acknowledge this. I get pessimistic and cynical when I'm sad and, as the kids say, thinky. I pale, however, in comparison to American author and journalist Ambrose Bierce. Bierce had so little faith in the human race and more or less just believed life was a happy delusion. Seems like some guy to hang out at a party with. I digress. I was skimming through and reading random entries in his book The Devil's Diary. A satirical diary where the definitions of words are satirical and cynical (a very genuinely amusing read if you have a moment. It's in the public domain. I will link it here ). I stumbled upon his entry for "November".  It is as follows: 

"NOVEMBER, n. The eleventh twelfth of a weariness." 

 As I discussed yesterday, I have been fascinated and comforted by the manifestations of November. This definition somewhat appalled me as I could not wrap my head around such a disconsolate and diminutive worldview. To see months of a year as cycles of wearyness is somewhat heartbreaking to me. To see months as an endless, inescapable spiral is toxic. New months bring new life. New hope. New expressions and memories, and dreams. New seasons bring new weather, new experiences, and new hope. I don't mean to start a hypothetical argument with Bierce -- who fun fact, mysteriously disappeared in Mexico -- but it just shook me to my core. It belittles so much in the world. I respect and appreciate Bierce, but boy, that definition really gets under my skin. It is so negative just to be negative. Sorry, Bierce, but I respectfully reject your definition and substitute my own: 

"NOVEMBER, n. The new days of sweet smell and full kitchens." 

Until next time,

Calvin Landreth