Wednesday, September 16, 2009


#259, Chelsea, NYC

Like any writer on an assignment, I fluctuate between moments of artistic inspiration and moments of stultifying inertia as I strive to keep the momentum going. I take pride in my daily parade of 365 numbers. I tend to them as carefully as I can, adding water and sunlight when needed and withholding when appropriate. As writerly quests go, it's hardly Bill Bryson trekking the Appalachian Trial or a trip round Ireland with a fridge, but as it is, it's my own little cross to bear, teeny splinters and all. I don't like to draw attention to the splinters, but at times, when the pitying accompaniment of the world's smallest violin grows too loud in my own head, it becomes too much too bear alone.

After 258 nearly drove me to the neurologist, I've had all the signs of hitting a slump. Oh, what the hell, I think. I'll Google "259" and see what comes up. I scan with hopeful interest Wikipedia's two pages on 259 (yes, there are two), and while I briefly consider the entertainment value of riffing on the fact that 259 is equal to negative 379 in the Burmese calendar, I realize even the zany Mr. Wiki is not providing me with enough historical, architectural, or comic fodder to fuel an entire entry.

Undeterred, I Google "259 numerology" to see what bubbles to the surface. My reward is not instant. I click and I scroll, I weigh and deliberate. But then, my sharp eye roaming the dark inner depths of the internet's famed series of tubes, I hit the jackpot. I happen upon a numerology site that is so far gone into the realm of the illogical that I am captivated. It is a site that associates, dictionary-style, certain words or phrases with each number, ranging from 1 all the way up to 2538 (with gaps and curious omissions therein). 1=creation. 2=mirror. And so on. Only it's not so simple. Most numbers have entire lists. And the lists, gentle readers, are glorious.

Crackpot theories, in and of themselves, are not particularly fascinating to me. It's very easy to dismiss and laugh at another's belief system, and frankly, I'm not into that sort of thing. What I am into, however, is a good round of absurdity chased down with a shot of flabbergasting lexical gymnastics. A few examples from the curious numerology site, taken at random:
85: Diversity, Writer, New Tools, Sacred Oil, Divine, Reckless Path, Red/black Specks, Nuhwhrlaha, Virgo, Confidence, Happiness, Cool Man Cool, Molybdenum, Atomic Japan, Know it All

170: Creativity, Synchronicity, Attribute, Belly button, John Wilkes Booth, Necronomicon, The order & value

190: Responsibility, Two head are better than one, Inventive New Myths, Nothing, Babe of the Abyss, Circuit Board, Great Britain, Tryptamines

194: Of course I will love, Stephen Hawkings
True, one person's treasure is another's overflowing spam box, but I found these interpretations hard to resist. But sadly, after all of my strenuous research, I found that the space for 259 was left blank. Blank! And so I'm entrusting it to you, my dear readers and fellow lovers of absurd word games, to come up with your own list of word associations to match the mysterious number 259. Ready? Set? Go. The Babe of the Abyss awaits your reply.


Radge said...

259 - Dingle Strand, get your go, flotsam, wishdom, ornate misgivings, grief.

Jackie said...

259- piracy, silver moon, unicorn blood, mourning.

It doesn't feel like a happy number to me. A mythological number, maybe. But not a happy one.

entners- antlers, not fully grown

Therese Cox said...

Yes, yes, like the Stephen Hawkings, I love these very much.

Radge - I had a day like that once. But you put it much more eloquently than I ever did in my water-logged notebook.

Jackie - If you wrote the story of your 259, you could knock the Twilight series off the best-seller list with one swipe of your mighty paw.

Radge said...

Hoping for a day like that next week, going to try and head down there, work commitments permitting.

It's my favourite of all the places.

Therese Cox said...

Lucky you. Remember me to the flotsam and wishdom if you go. That attention-seeking dolphin isn't still swimming round the bay there, is he?

Radge said...

Yeah, he is. He steals my thunder every time I get off the bus.

We never got on.

Julie said...

259 - wire scrubbers, fright, scratch of chalk, pain in teeth, suspicion, wariness