Ozarque is having a discussion about hopelessness, and Chanthaboune recently wrote a very sensible post about infatuation, and both of those readings reminded me of an entirely unrelated conversation I had with Rosalyne01 in which she said that we are becoming, as a nation, hyper-emotional.

People, she claimed, do not make decisions on the basis of reason any more, but rely merely on emotions. Further, she said, we wallow in emotion. She pointed out the existence of reality TV, where people are paid large sums (though not, of course, what it would cost to have any actual script and professional actors and stuff) to behave badly in front of numerous watchers. The way that just a few of the daily horrors of the war are strategically dredged up by government or media to be mourned over loudly on TV. Emo music. She could have pointed out the breathless delivery of CNN presenters, all of whom seem to be trying to match the famous (but sincere) broadcast of the Hindenberg tragedy. We may not really be more emotional than before, but maybe we are more inclined to act on our emotions, and to give them greater importance than we used to. The idea that, while we cannot control all the circumstances of our lives, we can control our reactions to those circumstances may be falling out of favor.

There have been times in our history, of course, when people were proud of being emotional and not cerebral beings. Maybe we’re having another of those. The lecturer at my Tuesday night class once said that people are inclined to act upon their emotions because they don’t believe that there is an objective reality.

I found that a very interesting idea. Myself, I avoid acting on my emotions, because I don’t believe that emotions have much objective reality. They are, as Ebeneezer Scrooge said in a different context, disordered by the least little thing. Hormones, fatigue, failing to have one’s morning cup of tea.

But if you think — or feel — that your emotions are reality, then it would seem reasonable to act upon your feelings. Counterproductive, lacking in public spirit, and self-destructive, perhaps, but there’s a lot of that going around.

There is also going around, in blogland, a frank showing of our crafty clutter. It has been suggested that our pictures showing our projects neatly arranged on plants or stuffed animals or dangling in front of lovely views are presenting a dishonest image. In order to show objective reality, the argument goes, we must embrace our clutter and take pictures of the products of that creative clutter in situ. I therefore offer you pictures this morning of my current projects in mess.

In the service of maintaining a grip on objective reality, I show it to you here on the pile of all the other sewing projects I have underway.

This, by the way, was not the plan. When #2 daughter and I had our sewing marathon, we cut and did major seams on a bunch of things and completely finished only one or two. I had expected that I would finish up those hems and buttons and things in the following week, and mail her stuff up to her, and be ready for my print top… Ah well. I have the Fourth of July off. Perhaps I can have a marathon finishing weekend. If so, I will put everything neatly on hangers and photograph them. Presumably, I will have all this clutter cleaned up, as well.

Perhaps not, though. Because here is another bunch of clutter, unrelated to the sewing mess. In it, you can see the Wuthering Heights tea cosy, which I intend to finish by the deadline.

I still have not drummed up any enthusiasm for reading Passage to India. I have put the movie version of it at the top of my Netflix queue, in hopes that it will persuade me to shell out $15 for the book. If you have read this book and loved it, please tell me why.

If you own it and would like to lend it to me or swap it for some book that I have, speak up! Frugalreader does not have it. Probably the library does, though, and I know that the library has The Namesake, the other book about India that I am supposed to read for my real-world book club.

Isn’t it just too hot to think about India?

Okay, I have offered you links to hopelessness and infatuation, shown you clutter, and whined about not wanting to do my assigned reading. I sincerely hope that I have not nudged you over the edge of hopelessness by doing so. At least I can tell you that I am all but recovered from my bout of the flu or whatever it was. I must do the grocery shopping and then go to work, and tonight I will add to my sewing clutter by cutting out the print top for my SWAP. Then I can add it to my pile of hemming and hope to get all that done while watching Passage to India.