Appreciation …

 … The Mystery and Grace of Paul Simon(Hat tip, Dave Lull.)

I think it worth mentioning that Simon did not write “Scarborough Fair.} it’s a traditional English ballad.

Something to think on …

Self-discovery is above all the realization that we are alone.
— Octavio Pax, born on this date in 1914

Poetry and boxing …

… All a Matter of Tense | Commonweal Magazine. (Hat tip, Dave lull.)

The collection opens with an epigraph from Sonny Liston: “Some day they’re gonna write a Blues song for fighters. / It’ll just be for slow guitars, soft trumpet, and a bell.” Here, Ryan has taken two sentences spoken by Liston after defeating Floyd Patterson in 1962 and broken them into two lines. By treating Liston’s speech as if it were poetry, Ryan allows us to see that Liston’s speech is poetry.

Saturday, March 30, 2024

A haiku …

 

A field of flowers...

Right here is where we made love.

Good memories come.

Jennifer Knox

Something to think on …

Remember, all of man's happiness is in the little valleys. Tiny little ones. Small enough to call from one side to the other.
— Jean Giono, born on this date in 1895

The lasting influence of scholasticism …

… Jesuit Britain? | Acton Institute.. (Hat tip, Dave Lull.)

… the deployment of ideas like Suárez’s against the absolutism of writers like Robert Filmer was sometimes covert, since open acknowledgement of their Spanish Jesuit provenance would have been politically disadvantageous.


Connoisseur of doubt …

… Daniel Kahneman Was Sometimes Wrong, and Always Right - The Atlantic. (Hat tip, Dave Lull.)

 “We would all like to have a warning bell that rings loudly whenever we are about to make a serious error, but no such bell is available, and cognitive illusions are generally more difficult to recognize than perceptual illusions,”

Friday, March 29, 2024

A poem …

Appraisal


Life’s mystery deepens as time proceeds.

He’s less sure now of everything.

And doubt turns out to have  its thrills.


Nearby Muzak — or whatever — plays a vintage tune

Conjuring parties long past, elsewhere some tabloid

Headlines a famous beauty’s imminent demise.


Life’s mystery deepens as time proceeds.

The past catches up as the future recedes,

While deflowered winter courts the barren heart.

Now we need scientists …

… to demonstrate common sense … (18) Scientist dispute stupid with, you know, facts.

Of course, common sense seems increasingly less common these days. 

Blogging note …

 I am not feeling well today. I may do a little blogging later today, but I’m not sure just now.

Hmm …

 … ‘Write Like a Man’ Review: Diana Trilling’s Challenge.  (Hat tip, Dave Lull.)

The principal figure here is Diana Trilling, a brilliant essayist and the wife of the celebrated cultural critic Lionel Trilling. Diana, “the more abrasive of the two,” Ms. Grinberg writes, balanced her husband’s checkbook and deftly edited his drafts. But when she offered similar editorial help to various male friends, they took it (as she herself reported) “as an assault on their masculinity.”

Something to think on …

For the essential thing about the work of art is that it is work, and very hard work too.
— Joyce Cary, ho died on this date in 1957

Thursday, March 28, 2024

Blogging note …

 I had much to do today of a personal matter. Blogging will resume tomorrow.

Hometown …

 … Superior Blues. (Hat tip, Dave Lull.)

Superior,  I learned as a child, was home to the world's largest grain elevator and charcoal briquet plant.  It had the cleanest water, and the highest per capita number of saloons and bordellos.  It was the birthplace of Morrie Arnovich, second greatest Jewish baseball player and contained the world's second largest trainyard, second only to Chicago.

Something to think on …

Any writer who knows what he's doing isn't doing very much.
— Nelson Algren, orn on this date in 1909

Something to think on …

Conscience. That stuff can drive you nuts
— Budd Schulberg, born on this date in 1914

Tuesday, March 26, 2024

Just so you know …

The basic ways the gov steals your money:

  • if you earn it, income tax
  • if you live somewhere, property tax
  • if you spend it, sales tax
  • if you save it, inflation tax
  • if you invest it, capital gains tax
  • if you start a business, licenses
  • if you own a good business, profit tax
  • if you give it away, gift tax
  • if you die, inheritance tax

Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes …

 …  Words, words, words. (Hat tip, Dave Lull.)

On the Bard’s four-hundred-year legacy.

Something to think on …

We must let go of the life we have planned, so as to accept the one that is waiting for us.
— Joseph Campbell, born on this date in 1904

Monday, March 25, 2024

Blogging note …

 I have many things to deal with today. Blogging will not resume until later, possibly much later.

Something to think on …

You shall know the truth, and it will make you odd.
— Flannery O’Connor, born on this date in 1925

Sunday, March 24, 2024

This is nuts …

… No 'human era' in Earth's geological history, scientists say.

We humans have obviously been affecting the Earth since our emergence here — hunting, farming, trade, roads, houses, towns, etc.  Maybe these people should sit dow and read H. G. Wells’s An Outline of. History. Or maybe Toynbee.

Pushback …

… Wendell Berry: What Paul Krugman Gets Wrong About Rural America. (Hat tip, Dave Lull.(

A person who has no idea of goodness can have no good ideas. If one cannot imagine dealing with rural rage except by fighting it, one is already too late.

Something to think on …

Every happening, great and small, is a parable whereby God speaks to us, and the art of life is to get the message.
— Malcolm Muggeridge, born on this date in 1904

Putting things straight …

… Like Esther, I Stand for Jewish Peoplehood.

I sat through several hours of these public comments and endured many distortions and outright lies read into the public record, including statements denying that Hamas attackers engaged in sexual violence against Israeli women (there were cheers in the overflow room when that happened). And although many pro-Palestinian speakers invoked the number of Palestinians killed and the other deeply painful results of this war, none could bring themselves to concede that it was Hamas who broke the existing cease-fire on October 7, or that Israelis have a right to live in peace.

Theology with a beat [sort of) …

 … Karl Rahner’s theology of The Beatles.

Always concerned about pastoral matters, Rahner abstained from opining about the Beatles or their recordings. Indeed, he generally recused himself from the role of critic, instead expressing interest in the phenomenon of Beatlemania. Witnessing the Beatles’ fervent audience, Rahner observed, is “important for the preacher if he wants to know what today’s people are ‘actually’ like.”

Something to think on …

When you don't follow your nature there is a hole in the universe where you were supposed to be.
—Dane Rudhyar, born on this date in 1895

Bear in mind …

 … You’re Not Jesus. (Hat tip, Dave Lull..)

Sorry, folks, but God’s not saying you must condescend to eat with sinners. No:  you are the sinner. He condescends to eat with you.

A poem …

Looking

'

The ancients did not see things as we do.

They thought reason finite. Dreams, omens,

Prophecy: Therein lay truth’s treasure chest

Something to think on …

We do not at present educate people to think but, rather, to have opinions, and that is something altogether different.
— Louis L’Amour, born on this date in 1908

Hmm …

KEN BRUEN, THE DARK SOUL OF IRISH CRIME FICTION. (Hat tip, Dave Lull.)

Set in the immediate aftermath of the worst of the pandemic, Galway Confidential explores in detail (as do the other books in the series) the unique complexity of Irish society, with its deeply infused blend of the Church, a roller-coaster economy and a propensity for violence, particularly involving knives…and in these stories, those knives aren’t just sharp, they’re serrated, too.

Thursday, March 21, 2024

Talk about misinformation …

 … Google Invents a New Way to Stick It to Trump.

What concerns me he is the corruption of language. I pretty much don’t give a damn about politics, which for many these days has become a religion. I already have one of those.

Something to think on …

God is an unutterable sigh, planted in the depths of the soul.
— Jean Paul, born on this date in 1763

Something to think on …

The spirit of truth and the spirit of freedom — they are the pillars of society.
— Henrik Ibsen, born on this date in 1828

Comparison and contrast …

 … MACDONALD VERSUS MACDONALD: A CRIME FICTION DEBATE. (Hat tip, Dave Lull.)

Evaluating  the literary legacies of John D. MacDonald and Ross Evaluating the literary legacies of John D. MacDonald and R



Evaluating the literary legacies of John D. MacDonald and Ross Evaluating the literary legacies of John D. MacDonald and Ross Macdonald from inside a Florida flea market

Wonderful …

… Poem of the week: To Robert Browning by Walter Savage Landor | Poetry | The Guardian. (Hat tip, Dave Lull.)
 
I love Browning — it doesn’t get better than “My Last Duchess.” But I love Landor, too. Especially this.

Just so you know …

 … What Elizabeth Bishop and Marianne Moore Learned From Each Other. (Hat tip, Dave Lull.)

Rachel Cohen on an Epistolary Friendship Between Two Giants of American Poetry

A haiku …

The magnolia
Encased by an ice-storm like
Love unrequited.

Jennifer Knox

Something to think on …

Victory over fear is the first spiritual duty of man.
— Nikolai Berdyaev, born on this date in 1874

RIP …

… Death of a great American pianist, 95 - Slippedisc

I got to know Byron and his wife (who is Gary Cooper’s daughter) some years ago.

Sunday, March 17, 2024

A poem …

 Nicodemus 


There was a man of the Pharisees, named Nicodemus, a ruler of the Jews: the same came to Jesus by night, and said unto him, Rabbi, we know that thou art a teacher come from God: for no man can do these miracles that thou doest, except God be with him. 

Jesus answered and said unto him, Verily, verily, I say unto thee, Except a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God.



I heard what he said about the law

Being made for man, not the other way

Around. And unrest laid hold of me. Sleep came

Only in snatches, leaving my nights swathed

In barren awareness, my mind a chamber

Black and empty, the darkness within echoing

The darkness without. The law, you see, had shaped 

My life, or so I dreamed. His words clutched

My heart,  brought it to life, making me

See how it was I had shaped the law to shield

Myself from mystery, reducing everything

To mere occasions, opportunities for sin

Or salvation. The law intends to codify

The good. Except the good is boundless as night

And sky, star glow and darkness, immeasurable

As the heart, that necessary instrument for navigating life.


Reason can sketch and guess and calculate,

Uncannily, from time to time, but always

Leaves out what counts, identifying things, as it does,

Only by accidents they have in common. For me,

The law was just a pin to stab a butterfly.

For him, it was a seed opening into stem

And branch, leaf and blossom, bearing fruit

For nourishing. Where I saw rogues and wantons,

He beheld eternal offspring. The law craves

Certainty. Only there is none. We see that

From the start, and run away, thinking to hide

And putter about in some attic of dissection

And surmise, devising artifacts demanding faith

As great as any simple taboo or command.


I went to see him. We met in secret, late at night,

Amid shadow and moonlight. One must be born

Again, he said, of water and the spirit. I did not

Understand. Nor was meant to. His was not a notion

To think upon and figure. His words made gestures,

Conjuring a feeling for being, the breathing in

And out of life, its buoyancy and flow, from trickle

To torrent, stillness and depth, wind and wave conjoined

In fragrance, flavor, and caress, vision and sound and sense.

We parted in silence. I had inquired. He had answered.

Nothing was left to say, nothing being all was left. Of me

At least. Bearing a lantern home near dawn — clouds 

Crowding the moon away  — I felt myself turn

Into a knowing absence, awareness and sensation

Intact, but no identity attached or needed. All was

Wordless, each flower wearing its own perfume,

The birds a chorus of arias, every color's every shade

Its very own light-burst, each and all breathing and flowing,

And what remained of me present only to serve as witness.



Come daylight, the common world faded back

And beckoned. But I was not quite there. Time,

Embracing space embracing me, had dwindled

To a point expanding outward in every direction.

Bereft of duration and position, I felt I needed

To assent to something, but could not think what, then

Sensed a stirring, like a drop of mist, or puff of wind,

Were wind softest whisper and mist merest sigh, 

Breathing an invitation to agree to be, consent

To happen, bear witness to being made. I watched 

Myself take place, as, when a child, my father sat me

Across his lap upon his horse, and galloped across

The meadow. I saw at once how I could live like that.

And I wanted to. The wanting proved an act of will.

I became complicit in my making, moving in time

With wind and wave, light and shade, the wayward tide.


And immediately the common world became again

My habitat, although it did not look the same, perhaps

Was not. For now I saw it from the angle of the breath

And flow of all besides.  I was riding a current I knew not

Whither. Life had become  a wonder and a terror. I cared not

Who it was I would become, or what would happen.

Intruding was the world of men, somehow askew,

Graceless and grotesque, each and all striving

For distinction, entangled in maneuvers of their own

Devising, ruffians at  play. I was in attendance,

Made free in my obedience. As it happens, everything is

Perfectly in order. Only the performers are mostly

Out of step. The few who aren't stand in peril

From the rest. That is where the law comes in:

It catalogues the missteps. Those are all it knows.

His end was preordained. At his trial I spoke on his behalf,

Citing, naturally,  a point of law, only to be countered

With a quote from Scripture. Such a dying, what it does

To flesh and tells of life, bears little thinking on. 


I and the Arimithean arranged his burial. Two mornings

Later the tomb was empty and many swore thereafter

They had seen and spoken with him. I was not

Among those, needing no assurance. He imparted

To me myself that night. I felt loved simply

For being. Felt ashamed as well, at so often thwarting

My creation. I assented to obey his prompts. 

So have I done, and shall continue to.

Come what may, I will act as he directs.