Sunday, August 22, 2021

Point of View

 Intuition and the Muse

 

 Having finished Road Notes and reread to some extent its three incoherent precursors, but seeking a voice to tell a story, I know not what, except loving the lyric, and reading the Elizabethans of 1580 and 1590 against all counsel and reason preoccupied my desire, from which I admit I learned very little and absorbed less, except maybe some the spirit of prose audacity of Kyd’s Geronimo, Marlow, Donne, euphuisms, Spenser, intrigues, Raleigh, in ferment with backward asides into Grammars and propagandists, Martin Marprelate, Henry Peachum. preceded byC. S. Lewis but more the Bible, Bill Ingram, the Faerie Queene, the Testaments, Knox, Tyndale, Puritans in Prison, bishops at bowls, Shakespeare not really at the center of it as much as could be wished, but the propaganda of extreme romance in the Bower of Bliss and laconic Cervantes, ended lyricism in absurdity, complaint and wrestling of Donne's spirit against death, Milton’s Lost Paradise, Traherene’s songs of wheat. I still care as deeply and as fully about whatever caused this, as do others like Blake and Wordsworth and Yeats and the list goes ever  on.

 The message of these words is conveyed in tones and voice, all sounds, music, but the depth of meaning has been severed, as for example In the imagination of Sarah Weddington the baby died, followed by the news that that baby’s still alive in her imagination, which irony is severed. There is no irony, wit or nuance in this there is only sensationalism to evoke outraged feelings. These are then rhetorically directed. There is no individual thought in   “a world where nearly everything that passes for art is tinny and commercial and often, in addition, hollow and academic (Moral Fiction, 5).    Musician Bob Dylan condemned the practice, saying: "You listen to these modern records, they're atrocious, they have sound all over them. There's no definition of nothing, no vocal, no nothing, just like—static." Loudness War, Brick Wall. Mothers are powerless against the corporate forces of addiction in these commercials that destroy their children. 85% of rural El Salvador children have Black rotting teeth down to the roots from Coke, Pepsi, Fritos in the last 30 years.All the children came forward with a surprise in a bag, a bow, of which the preacher said, holding it up and drawing the string at the ceiling,  if God breaks his promise we can shoot him in the heart with this bow! The substance of this meaning is like the bread of life projected on the screen as a loaf of Safeway bread, mass produced, puffed tasteless so even the symbol is gone, for this is the bread of death. If water is acid and bread poison, wine must be fire, not blood and air toxic in earth.


 Flann O'Brien's Third Policeman ch. 3, walks on the road, his soul offering names, which reminds me of the high pitched songs that came down from the mountain that foggy morning before burn off. But the meditation of Judah’s wound last night and the compress, the poultice of the healing blood placed upon his blood is the rescue. It connects to all the organs, the code of the whole in each cell, the brain, the nerves, the gates to the brain, so glorious.

Russian Futurists, Natalia Goncharova, Alexei Kruchenykh Penn Sound Readings in Russian and English, Steve McCaffery, Christian Bok, Grain Boundaries.

I desired to write long before the true words came. They were  destined if I qualified which qualifying came from my Maker who designed me this way should I choose Him and I did, with vigor to seek the holy place of the most High, the secret in the wings. Then the words came and as the  designed grew, produced these works. The praise poetry is to show my debt and honor to Him who sits on the throne and unto the Lamb, all very mysterious matters shared with the those gifted with Grace and Truth.

To translate this conundrum of the world I choose literature and language, the best choice it turns out, usually now given to AI to divine, but the take provided me, being arbitrary, especially shows the levels of complexity of the structure of the governing powers, unable to discern without a point of view based on the notion that the earth is enemy territory.

Translating dimensions is just this side of the impossible of doing it. For the sake of it let’s say a dimension is one quantum step above and is translated down. Could it be translated up? Not to the point.

Many truths are unpleasant, like total depravity. These stories are my struggle, it can be argued, on a symbolic level with total depravity.

There is an analogy between the stories and the ceramics, which displayed may show about an equal number of instances. Each one is individual one of a kind never to be repeated, they are in different languages though, the stories are symbolic in words, the ceramics are symbolic in images of the same subjects opaquely presented.

We shall give account of every word we speak. They range behind us in a trail, but in the present we speak the words written for us to speak in the future. After the present passes they are written, but before we must qualify to speak the words of our life continually, so each word is important in faith.

The result of this is circulation of a facetious biography, cultivation of several pseudonyms, a consideration of subjects so far from mainstream as to be absurd, ridiculous, unbelievable, a writing style that bends to this with new words, simple syntax combined with complex—all of which  is difficult of audience but intends to bypass the consciousness a to communicate with the brain, since consciousness is controlled to such lard extent by external sources and no longer by those timeless inquires into life and death, health and life, love and life with it has always supposed before.

White socks is a symbol of their innocence. Trade in Body parts is one part of cannibalism. In the mix of truth and fantasy I did review this book cited at the end. What is the meaning of fairy tales, Eating disorder/ Sublimated erosis? ha. The professor’s name is Fairy Tale to show that it consumes children with the fallen. Hey, the fallen run the world! Why do you link in the original English faer means to fear? We however are supposed to call that good even while they are eating. In the old language it means an awful horror headlong sudden fall, beset by dangers, sudden seizure, apoplexy, pestilence, sudden cold, sudden death. Faergrygrum is the rule of these. In other words using Higher Ed Stanford/Harvard to do it and convince the children they are something special to make them slaves. Hansel and Gretel are emblems in this case of the poverty home prerepackaged in their education at the univ where they are completely consumed. The bait consists of the ornate promises of the digital life they lead, cake roofs, gold grapefruits, right NOW, the way all nature is corrupted, falsified by its bowers of bliss, instantaneous gratification, lack of ownerships in reality, self driving cars, but the villain consumes them with false ideas of the world and life even while it convinces them they are superior to it all. They go in but none come out! Victim consciousness, flora of the golden age, masks. Heorot is the Cake House torn apart. I say we have no kinship with this darkness, with its giants, ogres and fairies except to kill them. faer- gryrum (against the inroads of Grendel into Heorot)

This was a comment about Bosch, that     From the world’s beginning until the end of time, the familiar is secretive and strange, the uncanny is the familiar in disguise. That was also the intent of the Lyrical Ballads where Word and Col each took one end toward the middle

Aftereffects of pill debilitating two days.  in every momentary surrender of desire, will, action, speech to the provision of the grace, which new life utterly supplants the details of the old confusion, depravity and begins to explore what life outside, beyond the details imposed might be. By turning the everyday details upside down, separated against themselves Bosch shows how they are confinement, prison, and are inimical to our being. Parts of bodies hands feet, heads, buttocks beside ponds flying in the air are all part of the demonstration that later Wordsworth began to celebrate. The rocks and stones and trees of little Lucy flying round her course, the ordinary, the vernacular are our suit that we wear and so doing are manipulated against  our interest by this enemy. What is our best interest is hard to know it  so long time gone, but snatches of it and the whole life of how it may be recovered occur in instances of self sacrifice, service to others, kindness, compassion, seeing the other face as my face as Levinas does,  recognize the life we now live in the flesh must be redeemed.

Making bomb burst

-My comic narrator has always been a bit balmy from Frankie on, nonplussed, aghast awestruck, either that or satiric. So he comes in science to excuse the outlandish discoveries about the world, or with fable of his own making, calling it myth, but it is more akin to ad, mad ave wall st gone berserk, or to journalism as if he is ferreting out the facts,. The tragic narrator retains elements of this but is way more rational in reporting the events and images of the worlds he sees.

--The only semblance is to model the future on every basis, the past, the facts, the speculations and on. But A is way to afraid to do this and B is too busy. I live the future in the present so when it comes I can see it. Any successful model always begins with your own death and the attempt to prevent with your loved ones and everyone. But the details must be double checked for you will receive covert opposition from those afraid of the future.

All the historical overlays of the sonnets and lyrics were added to mask the impossible fact that these unbelievable thoughts and experiences impossible to obtain, either to think or to have, are made acceptable by their historical or poetical contexts like Taliesin, or the new world, or the prophetic plant. 

I want there to be repetition. I want there to be redundancy. They might resemble Richard Brautigan slightly and they might mean something to those who know the experiences they inhabit but most have never appeared. They have always been outside the circle, but somehow now when we need some consolation of living they give comfort.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Fiber Spinning

Der stoff of fiber spinning super colliders on one hand with boundary stones of sculptures made like severed heads , on the other, this fan...