Posts filed under ‘On Truth’

A Bit MisGuided MeThinks

https://www.pcmag.com/news/363726/heres-why-aliens-will-probably-come-in-peace

[What quirky machine changed my script, ’cause I didn’t!]

 

–The problem with that nicely written article is a very big one.  Humans have practiced war assiduously for thousands of years.  Even our form of economy is aggressive in nature.  That’s not how you build an interstellar society.

 

They’d visit, and humans would use every means available to attack them.

 

Disbelieve me?  You never read s.f., then, or watch most movies.

October 1, 2018 at 12:07 pm 1 comment

A Brief Note and a Poem

Sorry, I’ve been out of touch and nearly writing nothing because I was busy with other things ranging from car breakdowns (just now recurring) to a problem with the heat, to frantically searching for various documents.  Right now I got side-tracked by yet another problem, so let me see here…

 

 

 

eleutheria*

i have too often,
i must confess, been bewitched
by these shapely sways
and flowing falls
of shining hair; by

the graceful allurement
of eyes, hands, hips
and breasts: have
too often longed
to touch, unmoving…

these lines have captured
my life and meaning.
i have dreamed, to be sure,
at times, of freedom. but
it lies around

the next corner, after
the next line…knowledge
cannot free. I do not know
what can.

 

dedicated to John Fowles
*’freedom’ in Greek—from The Magus

_____________________________________________________________________________________

This was shortly after my return from the Navy, just after the very end of the evacuation of Vietnam (the last Marines were airlifted from the embassy rooftop).  I yet reel from the things that were virtually inescapably fascinating and terrible at the same time.

December 1, 2017 at 5:52 pm Leave a comment

Freedom

Freedom

Riding from the west, the knights
promise us freedom:
entranced by their shining armor, we
seek this mysterious thing.

Ah, but, later, we discover
swords powerless against
both greed and death.
Odd, this freedom

our masters brought.

________________________________________________________________________

This was written during the Vietnam war, aboard Admiral Steele’s (Commander Seventh Fleet, in charge of all Far East U.S. Armed Forces) flagship CLG-5 USS Oklahoma City.  This is about two contradistinct things; that war and rhetoric surrounding actions which are unjustifiable.  As such, it’s also about politics itself.  IT IS ABSOLUTELY UNJUSTIFIABLE TO “POINT THE FINGER” AT A GIVEN POLITICAL PARTY OR EVEN METHOD OF SOCIAL ORGANIZATION.  All methods of justifying usage of force by stated hypotheses (theories are the result of hypotheses which haven’t been disproven by tests; there IS NO PROOF available through empiricism.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

October 2, 2017 at 3:01 pm Leave a comment

salvation

salvation

I would have burned with you; indeed, I meant to do
so, but I was entranced
by the flowers in the garden behind you. And when I
went to join you, you’d already gone.

________________________________________________________________

This was written pre-Navy.  To be precise, March of 1971.  I was deliberating on many things, including cabbages and kings.  I had become either an agnostic, a zen Buddhist or…a mix of many named beliefs (or a similarity thereto) to which the name zen Buddhist approached most closely.  I’m ‘bad on names’ because names contain far too many implicit and inescapable assumptions, most particularly including schemas based on (“unstated”) value systems–unstated in that their principles are nearly invariably based upon invisible paralogical statements.  Although ‘paralogical’ is a coined word, its antecedents should be fairly…visible.

 

The essential statement is about the viability of salvation as a gift.  If I ever labeled a concept as intrinsically false, this would be it; however, the statement of a belief or perception is not the thing itself and moreover requires an act to even reach its simulacrum, which brings to two the sources of common and irremediable error.

September 29, 2017 at 2:41 pm Leave a comment

to a young girl

to a young girl

young girl, you are far
too attractive as you smile at me. surely you can’t
want me:
balding, unhandsome, nearly wordless for all the
words i have.
yet i can’t but dream

of caressing your
shallow breasts, of knowing
those private words
and gestures; your form-revealing
jeans entrance me, truly…

imagining kissing you,
cupping your breasts
i make no motion,
no sound. some prey is so fragile,
it not only can never be captured;

it can never be pursued.

________________________________________________
NOTE: that young girl was about 20 and hotly pursuing me, in her mind at least; she was the top female student my last year of college, and I was nearly 50. I was one of the top 2 male students, although not at that pinnacle; she’d seen and heard me in World History–which I could have challenged, but I wanted that two years of insulation from the unlettered [an admittedly pointless prejudice that I couldn’t escape just then] quite desperately. I never had to take a test there in any case, because I knew far too much; the teacher wanted me to challenge it and major in something other than psychology; he and others figured that either literature or history should be good and I’d find instant interest. I was afraid of that same insulation for too long, simply because academia tends to rely on agreed symbols rather than observations and possibly repetitive testing.

 

The mention of breasts came because it was early summer in Oregon and she was dressed and had been in the ordinary skimpy attire.  I found out her attraction because of one withering look from her, on graduation day; the mutual thought was “Way, way too late, stupid.”  The woman whose face I couldn’t recall in a recently posted (and recently written) poem had happened, and I’d sworn never to love a woman again in that way.  Unfortunately, when I make most resolutions, I don’t ever change them or forget to follow them–I can’t forget them and I rarely can change or dismiss them.

 

Her name wasn’t spelled Caroline as I found out afterward, but that’s how it was pronounced.  It’s one of those English names with numerous spellings but extremely similar pronunciations.

September 24, 2017 at 5:47 pm Leave a comment

mistakes

 

mistakes

say no more, i beg you
(but you cannot listen)
we’ve said all this before, too many far too many
times.

we humans
mistake love for lust, and grief
for anger. you suffered
my touch and i your absence

till absence overtook touching.
now you long
for my reassurance, and i’ve
none, at all, to give.

things change: people change:
and feelings die.
i’ve nothing to say or lend.

in a way i suppose that’s appropriate. we know words
by silence:
before, and after.

___________________________________________________________________

Indeed.

September 24, 2017 at 2:56 pm Leave a comment

Of Truth and Images

“(…suddenly I realize, I am a ghost, myself)…”

Continue Reading March 15, 2017 at 7:14 pm Leave a comment

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