Menlo Park NJ, July 13 1885
(added a new tag for Edisonblog! so you can find the other entries)
Woke (is there such a word) at 6 oclock-- slipped down the declivity of unconciousness again until 7. arose and tried to shave with a razor so dull that everytime I scraped my face it looked as if I was in the throes of cholera morbus. By shaving often I too a certain extent circumvent the diabolical malignity of these razors -- if I could get my mind down to details perhaps I could learn to sharpen it, but on the otherhand I might cut myself- As I had to catch the 7.30 am train for New York I hurried breakfast, crowded meat potatoes, eggs, coffee, tandem down into the chemical room of my body I've now got dyspepsia in that diabolical thing that Carlyle calls the stomach, rushed and caught train-- Bought a New York World at Elizabeth for my mental breakfast-- Among the million of perfected mortals on Manhattan island two of them took it into their heads to cut their naval chord from mother earth and be born into a new world, while two other less developed citizens stopped two of the neighbors from living-- The details of these two little incidents conveyed to my mind what beautiful creatures we live among, and how with the aid of the police, civilization so rapidly advances--
Went to New York via DeoGrosseo Street ferry- took cars across town- saw a woman get into car that was so tall and frightfully thin as well as dried up that my mechanical mind at once conceived the idea that it would be the proper thing to run a lancet into her arm and knew [ed: knee?] joints and insert automatic self feeding oil cups to diminish the creaking when she walked-- Got off at Broadway- tried experiment of walking two miles to our office 65 5th Ave with idea it would alleviate my dyspeptic pains-- It didn't -- Went into Scribner & Sons on way up and saw about a thousand books I wanted right off. Mind No 1 said why not buy a box of fluff and send to Boston now- Mind No 2 (acquired and worldly mind) gave a most withering mental glance and mind No 1 and said You fool, buy only two books, these you can carry without trouble and will last you until you get to Boston, Buying books in NYork to send to Boston is like "carrying coals to Newcastle" of course I took the advice of this Earthly adviser-- Bought Aldrich's Story of a Bad Boy which is a spongecake kind of literature, very witty and charming- and a work on Goethe Schiffer by Boynsen which is soggy literature a little wit + anecdote in this style of literature would have the same effect as baking soda on bread, give pleasing results.
Waited one hour for the appearance of a lawyer who is to cross-examine me on events that occurred 11 years ago-- went on stand at 1130-- He handed me a piece of paper with some figures on it, not another mark, asked in a childlike voice if these were my figures, what they were about and what day 11 years ago I made them-- This implied compliment to the splendor of my memory was at first so pleasing to my vanity that I tried every means to trap my memory into stating just what he wanted-- but then I thought what good is a compliment from a 10 cent lawyer, and I waived back my recollection. A lawsuit is the suicide of Time. -- Got through at 3 30 PM-- waded through a lot of accumulated correspondence mostly relating to other peoples business-- Insull saw Wiman about getting car for Railroad Telegh experiment-- will get costs in day or so. -- Tomlinson made Sammy mad by saying he Insull was Valet to my intellect = Got $100 met Dot and skipped for the Argosy of the Puritan Sea; ie Sound Steamboat, -- Dot is reading a novel-- rather trashy. Love hash. -- I completed reading Aldrich's Bad Boy and advanced 50 pages in Goethe then retired to a "Sound" Sleep
To clarify, those Edisonblog! posts are drawn word-for-word from his diary (available as scanned pages here). He's an odd guy, that Edison.
Menlo Park N.J.
Sunday july 12 1885
(it's the rest of the day, and a long one, so continue in the extended entry...)
Nature is bound to smile somehow, Holzer has a little dog which just came on the veranda. The face of this dog was a dismal as a bust of Dante but the dog
wagged its tail continuously- This is evidently the way a dog laughs-- I wonder if dogs ever go up to flowers and smell them- I think not- flowers were never intended for dogs, and perhaps only incidentally for man, evidently Darwin has it right They make themselves pretty to attract the insect world who are
the transportation agents of their pollen. pollen freight via Bee line
There is a bumblebee nest somewhere near this veranda, several times one came near me-- some little information (aquired experimenally) I obtained when a small boy causes me to lose all delight in watching the navigation of this armed flower burglar.
Had dinner at 3 P.M. ruins of a chicken, rice pudding - I eat too quick -
at 4 oclock Dot came around with her horse "Colonel" and took me out riding-- beautiful roads-- saw 10 acre lot full cultivated red raspberries. "A burying ground" so to speak.--got this exscrable pun off Dot
Dot says she is going to write a novel already started on -- she has the judgement of a girl of 16 though only 12
We passed through the town of Metuchen, this Town was named after an Indian chief, they called him Metuchen the chief of the rolling lands, the country being undulating. Dot laughed heartily when I told her about a church being a heavenly fire-escape.
Returned from drive at 5 PM commenced read short sketches of life: Macauley, Sidney Smith, Dickens + Charlotte Bronte. Macauley cohen only 4 years ago omnivorous reader, used book language in his childish conversation, when 5 years old, lady spilled some hot coffee on his leg. after a while she asked him if he was better-- he replied-- "Madam the agony has abated" Macauleys mother must have built his mind several years before his body. Sidney Smiths flashes of wit are perfect to call them chestnuts would be literary blasphemy. They are wandering jewlets to wander forever in the printers' world- Dont like Dickens- dont know why- I'l stock my literary cellar with his works later. Charlotte Bronte was like DeQuincy. what a nice married couple they would have been. I must read Jane Eyre.
---played a little on the piano- its badly out of tune- two keys have lost their voice. Dot just read to me outlines of her proposed novel, the basis seems to be a marriage under duress- I told her that in case of a marriage to put in bucketfulls of misery. This would make it realistic, speaking of realism in painting etc Steele Mackaye at a dinner given to H H Porter, Wm Winter and myself told us of a difinition of modern realism given by some frenchman
whose name I have forgotten, "Realism, a dirty long haired painter sitting on the head of a bust of Shakespeare painting a pair of old boots covered with dung" The bell rings for supper.
Sardines the principal attraction- on seeing them was attacked by a stroke of vivid memory of some sardines I eat last winter that caused a rebellion in the labyrinth of my stomach-- could scarcely swallow them today They nearly did the "return ball" act.
After supper Dot pitched a ball to me several dozen times. first I even tried to catch. It was a hard as Nero's heart - nearly broke my baby-finger -- gave it up -- learned Dot and Maggie how to play "Duck on the rock" They both thought it great fun, and thus is sunday-- My concience seems to be oblivious of sunday - it must be incrusted with a sort of irreligious tartar. If I was not so deaf I might go to church and get it taken off or at least loosened- eccavi I
will read the new version of the bible
Holzer is going to use the old laboratory for the purpose of hatching chickens artificially by an electric incubator. He is very enthusiastic - gave me full details - he is a very patient and careful experimenter-- think he will succeed - everything succeeded in that old laboratory- Just think electricity employed to cheat a poor hen out of the pleasures of maternity - Machine born chickens - What is home without a mother I suggested to H that he vaccinate his hens with chicken pox virus, then the eggs would have their embryo heriditarily innoculated + none of the chickens would have the disease. for economys
sake he could start with one hen and rooster. He being a scientific man with no farm experience I explained the necessity of having a rooster, he saw the force of this suggestion at once,
The sun has left us on time, am going to read from the encyclopedia Britannica to steady my nerves and go to bed early. I will shut my eyes and imagine a terraced abyss, each terrace occupied by a beautiful maiden to the first I will deliver my mind and they will pass it down to the utmost depths of silence and oblivion. Went to bed worked my imagination for a supply of maidens, only saw Mina Daisy + Mamma
scheme busted - sleep.
Woodside Villa
Boston Harbor.
Menlo Park N.J.
Sunday july 12 1885
After breakfast start reading Hawthorne's English note Book don't think much of it.-- perhaps Im a literary barbarian and am not yet educated up to the point of appreciating fine writing-- 90 per cent of his book is descriptive of old churches and graveyards and coronors -- He and Geo Selwyn ought to have been appointed perpetual coroners of London. Two fine things in the book were these.
Hawthorne shewing to little Rose Hawthorne a big live lobster told her it was a very ugly thing and would bite everybody, wherupon she asked "if the first one God made, bit him"-- again "Ghostland is beyond the jurisdiction of veracity" --
I think freckles on the skin are due to some salt of Iron, sunlight brings them out by reducing them from high to low state of oxidation- perhaps with a powerful magnet applied for some time, and then with proper chemicals, these
mud holes of beauty might be removed.
Dot is very is very busy cleaning the abode of our deaf and dumb parrot- she has fed it tons of edibles, and never got a sound out of it. This bird has the taciturnity of a statue, and the dirt producing capacity of a drove of buffalo.
This is by far the nicest day of this season, neither too hot or too cold.-- it blooms on the apex of perfection -- an Edenday Good day for an angels pic nic, They could lunch on the smell of flowers and new mown hay, drink the moisture of the air, and dance to the hum of bees, Fancy the soul of Plato astride of a butterfly, riding around Menlo Park with a lunch basket
Menlo Park N.J.
Sunday july 12 1885
Awakened at 8 15 AM. Powerful itching of my head, lots of white dry dandruff- what is this d--mnable material, Pertaps its the dust from the dry literary matter I've crowded into my noddle lately Its nomadic. gets all over my coat, must read about it in the Encyclopedia. Smoking too much makes me nervous-- must lasso my natural tendency to aquire such habits-- holding heavy cigar contantly in my mouth has deformed my upper lip, it has a sort of Havana curl. Arose at 9 oclock came down stairs expecting twas too late for breakfast-- twas'nt. couldn't eat much, nerves of stomach too nicotinny. The roots of tobacco plants must go clear through to hell. Satan's principal agent Dyspepsia must have charge of this branch of the vegitable kingdom. -- It has just occured to me that the brain may digest certain portions of food, say the etherial part, as well as the stomach -- perhaps dandruff is the excreta of the mind-- the quantity of this material being directly proportional to the amount of reading one indulges in. A book on German metaphysics would thus easily ruin a dress suit.
I bet you didn't know that Thomas Edison was a blogger! Here's his first entry:
Menlo Park N.J.
Sunday july 12 1885
Awakened at 5:15 AM. My eyes were embarassed by the sunbeams -turned my back to them and tried to take another dip into oblivion -succeeded -- awakened at 7 A.M. thought of Mina, Daisy, and Mamma G__ put all 3 in my mental kalidescope to obtain a new combination a la Galton. took Mina as a basis, tried to improve her beauty by discarding and adding certain features borrowed from Daisy and Mamma G. a sort of Raphaelized beauty, got into it too deep, mind flew away and I went to sleep again.