Chapter 1: Section 2: Page 14: Line 65 (170)

 After dinner and Evening Quarters, the boys dedicated a few moments to song, as a group differently engaged might have to prayer.

* * * * * * * * * *

It's nice to see the boys aren't overly religious. Perhaps they're not religious at all, depending so much on the scientific. Or maybe Randolph knows prayers don't mean anything for a fallen angel!

Anyway, singing is basically secular mass. I mean it's also religious mass! But this is singing for pure entertainment and not singing to make sure the omnipotent creator of the universe stays happy.

"Evening Quarters"
The assembling of the Ship's company at the end of the day or drill night. Does the American military generally engage in prayer or is it like M.A.S.H. where nobody ever wants to pray at all and Father Mulcahy is constantly being told to jump in a lake?

Chapter 1: Section 2: Page 14: Line 64 (169)

 Around them the other groups of sky-brothers were busy at their own culinary arrangements, and roasting meat, frying onions, and baking bread sent delicious odors creeping everywhere about the great encampment.

* * * * * * * * * *

The term "sky-brothers" makes me think the crews of all the other ships must be composed of males. One might think, "Oh, Pynchon can imagine a fantastic bunch of ships lighting through the air in 1893 but he can't imagine one woman aboard any of them?!" And while that's probably a valid point, I think Pynchon is probably using the fact that the only way women were allowed on non-pirate sailing vessels was if they disguised themselves as males because I still believe one of the Chums is probably a girl (my guess has been Chick Counterfly because of the name "Chick" and also her "fly" runs "counter" to theirs (i.e. she has a vagina)).

Pynchon's probably trying to get us readers to imagine one of those gigantic Boy Scout gatherings where troops from all over get together to have one great big weenie roast. If he wasn't trying to get the reader to imagine that then he failed because I imagined it. Or I failed for imagining something he didn't intend. But I'm used to that. You can imagine how many things I imagined that Danielewski didn't intend while I was reading House of Leaves!

Chapter 1: Section 2: Page 14: Line 63 (168)

 Miles busied himself in the miniature galley, and soon had fried them up a "mess" of catfish, caught that morning and kept all day on ice whose melting had been retarded by the frigidity of altitude.

* * * * * * * * * *

Notice they're eating catfish which had been caught that morning? That's because they came up from the South, remember?!

As to why the word "mess" is in quotation marks? Your guess probably isn't as good as mine but I must admit I have nothing but guesses. Perhaps it's because one of the meanings of "mess" is "a portion or serving of liquid or pulpy food." And since catfish is neither of those, Pynchon is acknowledging the use of "mess" as a bit of a misnomer. It also simply means a "serving of food or a meal," especially, as in the time of our story, in a military sense. Perhaps that's also why it's in quotes, because the Chums aren't exactly military but act quite like a unit.

But penultimately, I believe we are to understand it here as "a whole lot of catfish." Perhaps this was a new use of the word around 1893, just as Pynchon earlier used "rookie," a newish word in 1893 and one which Pynchon put in quotation marks to signify its use as slang.

Ultimately, I really have no clue why it's in quotation marks! I can't get hung up on one word when I've got one thousand pages of multiple words to get through! At the rate I'm doing these blog entries, it'll take me fourteen years to finish this book!

Chapter 1: Section 2: Page 14: Line 62 (167)

 In short order, the boys had set up their mess-tent, gathered wood, and ignited a small fire in the galley stove, well downwind of Inconvenience and its hydrogen-generating apparatus.

* * * * * * * * * *

The phrase "hydrogen-generating" has the syllable "gen" repeated twice in a row. This isn't a secret code or anything but it reminds of the time I came up with a phrase to repeat the same syllable the most times in a row while still making sense. Recently in one of his songs (I forget which one! Sue me!), Tim Minchin has the phrase "ala La La Land" and that's pretty good! Four "la's" in a row! Mine sort of involves ships like the Inconvenience and the Enterprise. Sort of, I said! Anyway, it's this:

Class 'A' SS Ass Assassin.

Sure, you have to believe the screw steamer's name is the Ass Assassin and that the steamer have varying levels like in a video game. The Class 'A' ship is better than the Class 'C' ship but not as good as the Class 'S' ship (because 'S' stands for Super. Duh). But that's five asses in a row! Take that, Minchin!

Pynchon has mentioned the danger of the hydrogen-generating apparatus enough times that I think it's eventually going to blow! I bet Chick Counterfly dies saving Lindsay Noseworth!

Chapter 1: Section 2: Page 14: Line 61 (166)

 From time to time, the aeronauts hailed one another through megaphones, and the evening was thus atwitter, like the trees of many a street in the city nearby, with aviatory pleasantries.

* * * * * * * * * *

Ha ha! Look at Pynchon referencing social media! I need to go tweet this entry now!

Chapter 1: Section 2: Page 14: Line 60 (165)

 Since that morning, before the first light, a gay, picnic-going throng of aeromaniacs of one sort and another had been continuing all day now to vol-à-voile in, till long after sundown, through the midwestern summer evening whose fading light they were most of them too busy quite to catch the melancholy of, their wings both stationary and a-flap, gull and albatross and bat-styled wings, wings of gold-beaters' skin and bamboo, wings laboriously detailed with celluloid feathers, in a great heavenwide twinkling they came, bearing all degrees of aviator from laboratory skeptic to Jesus-rapt ascensionary, accompanied often by sky-dogs, who had learned how to sit still, crowded next to them in the steering-cabins of their small airships, observing the instrument panels and barking if they noticed something the pilot had failed to—though others could be observed at gunwales and flying bridges, their heads thrust out into the passing airflow, looks of bliss on their faces.

* * * * * * * * * *

This is how long I was hoping all of Pynchon's sentences would be so I would have to do fewer blog entries.

First off, notice how Pynchon calls the setting sun "melancholy"? That's what I said in my last blog post because I was paying attention! It was melancholy before Pynchon told me it was melancholy! It worked for two reasons: Pynchon is a genius writer able to get his point across and I am a genius reader able to pick up on Pynchon's genius.

Let's just go over some terms here in the style that I developed a few lines ago and which I wish I'd developed from the beginning.

"gay, picnic-going throng"
In the 1890s, an enjoyable time was always described as being gay and the most gay thing you could do was go on a picnic. The throng part just means a lot of gay people were there.

"aeromaniacs"
Like this word didn't get the Animaniacs themes song stuck in your head too.

"vol-à-voile"
This is just French for gliding according to Google translate. I added the caveat because it's, you know, Google translate. It cannot be trusted. For all I know, this is actually French for sex lube.

"through the midwestern summer evening"
This is just finishing up the bit about how long all of these aeromaniacs were landing and picnicking. From morning to evening!

The next part of the sentence describes all the different flying machines visiting the Chicago World's Fair. Pynchon imagines quite a few flying machines that almost certainly would never have flown out of any single field let alone into this one.

"gull and albatross and bat-styled wings"
These are styles of wings based on birds. And, um, a mammal. Gull wings are different from albatross wings because gull wings are meant for flapping around madly as they steal your chips and albatross wings are made for gliding for months and flying mice to save kidnapped young girls. Bat wings are for flapping crazily and getting caught in people's hair.

"wings of gold-beaters' skin and bamboo"
You know what bamboo is but what about gold-beaters' skin? It's cow guts used in the process of making gold leaf. So if you simply assumed the gold leaf on your super expensive dessert was vegan, now you know better!

"celluloid feathers"
Feathers that have been in the movies.

"all degrees of aviator from laboratory skeptic to Jesus-rapt ascensionary"
People into flying through the sky range from scientists to loony bin religionists trying to return to heaven. If you think the term "loony bin" is offensive, you're right because it literally means the trash receptacle where we toss people with mental health problems that we can't be bothered to help. So I apologize for using it. Instead of "loony bin preachers," I should have said "victims of religious brainwashing."

The last part of the sentence describes how a lot of these pilots are big dog lovers and have taught their dogs not to fall out of their airships. How do you teach a dog not to fall out of an airship? That's a trick question! The answer is that any dog that happens to not fall out of an airship looks like a dog that was trained not to fall out of an airship. It's probably just as many dogs perished on the way to the Fair as survived!

Plus in a time when this was the only fast way to travel, Pynchon imagines dogs getting their first experience of hanging their heads out of the car windows and loving it.

Chapter 1: Section 2: Page 14: Line 59 (164)

 There remained in the western sky only an after-glow of deep crimson, against which could be seen Miles's silhouette, as well as those of the heads of the other boys above the curved rim of the gondola.

* * * * * * * * * *

This is like a movie poster. Sometimes Pynchon likes to create images that evoke the idea of other media. Like sometimes Slothrop will be running around post-war Germany in a superhero outfit trying to buy a bunch of drugs so he can get some information that will lead him to the secret of why his boners are caused by rockets and suddenly a magazine cover will spin around in the sky behind him and the reader will think, "What the fuck? Is he hallucinating?" And then the reader will remember how movies like Citizen Kane and, um, other ones sometimes connect scenes with newspapers spinning around to stop and highlight the headline, or there will be a montage of magazines displaying the main character's rise to fame and greatness. And that's all that's happening. Pynchon is just saying, "Well, I'm writing a book. But let's make it seem like a movie for a second."

This is one of those times but less confusing. This one is just all, "Isn't this idyllic? Doesn't it evoke a sense of nostalgia, of youthful adventures, while sprinkling the psyche with enough reminders of endings to nearly make them weep from melancholy?" Or is that just me?

Maybe it's just a fat joke about how Miles's silhouette is practically blocking out the sun?

Chapter 1: Section 2: Page 14: Line 58 (163)

 The Jacob's-ladder now came clattering over the side, and upon it, presently, in uncertain descent, Miles, surmounted by a giant sack of soiled laundry.

* * * * * * * * * *

The term "Jacob's-ladder" is the most interesting bit here because it's Biblical. Some people think, "Why do I need to read The Bible when I don't believe in God?" And other people answer, "Do you believe in understanding anything from the Western Canon?" And then those people respond, "Fuck the Western Canon, you Patriarchal Monster!" And then the other people learn to maybe mind their own fucking business.

The literal interpretation of the Jacob's-ladder in this scene is that it's just one of them rope ladders used in sailing ships. But the main metaphorical interpretation is that it's the stairway to Heaven used by angels so that they can come to Earth to wrestle people naked. As we have seen, the Chums have just descended from Heaven and landed near a naked woman. They have not wrestled with her but I bet they want to. Also, Randolph St. Cosmo is probably an angel; the other Chums may be angels or ghosts or just lost boys being cared for by Randolph. So if Randolph and the Chums are angels, the Jacob's-ladder is literal in both of these interpretations!

The third interpretation of Jacobs'-ladder is the description of the suns rays shining down in an ever widening arc. This is an important interpretation because the book is called Against the Day and the day is when the sun is out. Also the chapter title is "The Light Over the Ranges" and the epigraph was a quote by that jazz guy about how everything is always night which is why we need light. It's all building on a theme! And since you'll never really know what a Pynchon book was about (I mean, some people might know! Or think they know! But, come on, do you think you'll be one of them? Be honest!), you should at least try to pay attention to all of the themes!

Miles is also unloading a bunch of the ship's dirty laundry. So in some way, every time the angels land, they need to cleanse the Inconvenience by removing their sins. And there are a lot of them because the dirty laundry sack is giant!

Chapter 1: Section 2: Page 14: Line 57 (162)

 With a mallet driving home, one by one, sturdy wooden pegs through the eye-splices at the ends of the hempen strands, he soon had the giant vehicle, as if charmed into docility by some diminutive beast-wrangler, tethered motionless above him.

* * * * * * * * * *

"driving home"
Where exactly is the home for any of these children? How did they come to be parentless adventurers in service to some shadowy organization? What could the ultimate purpose of this organization be and why would they use child labor (aside from the fact that everybody used child labor and it was going to take a bunch of anarchists blowing shit up to stop the practice (at least in America (I mean, at least by employees in America. The employers who live in America will certainly keep using foreign child labor!)))?
    I suppose some of my earlier speculations about Randolph St. Cosmo's existence could answer the question of where the homes of these kids are located. Like Alan Moore's Dead Dead Gang, they might be ghosts or possibly angels (which are really just high-level ghosts). Chick Counterfly probably became a member of the crew because those Klansmen got their tiny racist hands on him after all.

"sturdy wooden pegs"
More boner talk.

"eye-splices at the ends of the hempen strands"
Vaginas.

A lot of the verbiage makes me feel like there's some kind of sexual assault happening here by Darby against the airship except for the phrase "charmed into docility." Although I guess the connotation of being "charmed" by a person is actually rarely positive, right? People like Eddie Haskell and Dracula "charm" people! And the use of the term "hempen" evokes the idea of drugs!

This line ultimately makes me feel all yucky inside. It also make me realize that I can't even enjoy Bill Cosby's old comedy albums. Thanks, Bill, for ruining some of my most fond childhood memories of listening to your comedy albums at my grandparents' house while my grandmother cooks in the kitchen! At least I can still cherish the memories of listening to Steve Martin's album in that same space while my grandmother must have bit her tongue hearing Steve shout, "My girlfriend has the best pussy!" It's a good thing she didn't say anything to us or I would have figured out he wasn't just talking about her cat. Which he was because he says so immediately after when he scolds the audience for being perverts! But I was never a pervert! I always knew he meant her cat! What else could a seven year old think he meant?!

Chapter 1: Section 2: Page 14: Line 56 (161)

 Darby swung like a regular little monkey hand over hand down the anchor line, gained the ground and, tripping briskly about beneath Inconvenience, adroitly caught each of the mooring lines flung down to him by Miles Blundell.

* * * * * * * * * *

Darby is the most enthusiastic member of the Chums of Chance. It's probably because he's the youngest and has yet to have all of his wonder and innocence stomped out of him by people like Lindsay Noseworth. He's still youthful enough to see life as an adventure, and still dexterous enough to make full use of his body. He is carefree, wild, and exuberant. Like a monkey, he is all wild instinct and freedom of movement, no thought at all about the danger of his movements aboard an airship or the knowledge it could lead to his demise. Mortality and time do not exist for this boy. He is suckling at the teat of life for all that it's worth.

Plus, you know Darby is a dexterous little athlete because how accurate could Miles Blundell's mooring line tosses be?! That klutz couldn't hit the top surface of a planet his airship is hovering twenty feet above!

I'm going to miss this Darby when he's just a few years older and has learned to be a cynical little shit under the tutelage of Chick Counterfly and the heavy hands of Lindsay Noseworth.

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 By the time Lindsay could remove the optical instrument from the moist hands of Miles Blundell, and induce the consequently disgruntled youth to throw out grapnels and assist Darby in securing the great airship to "Mother Earth," the indecorous couple had vanished among the foliage, as presently would this sector of the Republic into the falling darkness.

* * * * * * * * * *

The first clause of this sentence is pure sex. The optical instrument, as we've determined, represents a boner. And what do you think Miles Blundell's moist hands represent, hmm? I phrased it this way so I don't accidentally teach all of the kids reading this blog how to do sex. Of course if I leave it like this, they'll simply think, "Oh! What part of the body is moist? The mouth! Babies are made by sticking pee-pees in mouths!"

And while they won't be getting any babies out of that misinformation, at least they'll enjoy themselves while trying. I mean the naïve teenagers who are reading this blog and not actual kids! Don't be gross! No pre-teen is going to read a one thousand page book not about stupid wizards.

Come to think of it, the second clause is also pure sex! Sending out "grapnels" to secure themselves to "Mother Earth." I'm getting hot and sweaty just thinking about how hot and sweaty this is getting me.

Oh shit. Thomas Pynchon calls America a Republic here. Is he one of those twats on Twitter who refuse to accept that America is a democracy so that they can rationalize their dreams of only old white men from rural counties maintaining power?

Pynchon describes the couple as "indecorous" but isn't it only the woman whose impropriety was on full display? He was just taking candid shots of her! Perfectly decorous, according to societal standards.

"consequently disgruntled"
This is my new phrase for blue balls.