X-ian

Kierkegaard, feminists, post-modernism; none of them are systematic.

Congruities are uncommon.

But, typically, all of the parties are concerned and lie, and in three areas: methodology, communicative strategy, and the rejection of procrustean metaphysics.

Which is to say that none would spare the knife in the interest of getting you into bed with them. And all would deny it.

For Fear Failure and Insanity

There are two primordial stuffs,

He said.

fear of:

1.Failure.

Insanity.2

But I think he is wrong

Because there is only

Fear.

And Failure.

And Insanity.

And then there is something else –

The something else that is everything else.

I think it was the everything else he was trying to understand.

And that was way he made a mistake.

Lost (III)

You find
Things
Lose you.
Take place
Elsewhere.
Which has been
Misplaced somewhere,

And also
Somehow replaced:

With the bait,
With the source,
With the draw...

And all this
Is
Now
Yours.

ISM: Are you talking to me?

Lost (II)

You find
Things lose you,
Take place,
Elsewhere:
Is a depository

Prometheus Unbound

PROMETHEUS
MONARCH of Gods and Dæmons, and all Spirits
But One, who throng those bright and rolling worlds
Which Thou and I alone of living things
Behold with sleepless eyes! regard this Earth
Made multitudinous with thy slaves, whom thou
Requitest for knee-worship, prayer, and praise,
And toil, and hecatombs of broken hearts,
With fear and self-contempt and barren hope;
Whilst me, who am thy foe, eyeless in hate,
Hast thou made reign and triumph, to thy scorn,
O'er mine own misery and thy vain revenge.
Three thousand years of sleep-unsheltered hours,
And moments aye divided by keen pangs
Till they seemed years, torture and solitude,
Scorn and despair--these are mine empire:
More glorious far than that which thou surveyest
From thine unenvied throne, O Mighty God!
Almighty, had I deigned to share the shame
Of thine ill tyranny, and hung not here
Nailed to this wall of eagle-baffling mountain,
Black, wintry, dead, unmeasured; without herb,
Insect, or beast, or shape or sound of life.
Ah me! alas, pain, pain ever, forever!

- P. B. Shelley

The Mask of Evil

On my wall hangs a Japanese carving
The mask of an evil demon, decorated with gold lacquer.
Sympathetically I observe
The swollen veins of the forehead, indicating
What a strain it is to be evil.

- Bertolt Brecht