Found things, metallic objects, noise, William Blake, the sun, Mayan mythology, concrete language, spoken word in public, spoken word on tape, the H-particle, Max Ernst, the world a million years from now, Gnosticism, ancient Greece, Animal Rights, fighting oppressive forces everywhere, action for earth, veganism, goth, spitting angels, splitting white light, trash, hypnagogia, glossolalia, echolalia, stalagmites, filth, magnetic north, unions, freeganism, Inca culture, making loops and noise with synthesizers and stringed instruments, destroying things, pseud-aliens, daguerreotypes, decay, transparent radiation, assertion-poetry, Dada, the golden section, situationism, stillness in chaos, human lethargy, strange hadronic matter, the origin of life, Heraclitus, psychic nonsense, automatism, industrial garbage, rooting out evil, mercury, Merlin.
Pagans, the lost, simulacra, miserable witches, noise makers, theologians, philosophers, atom-splitters, multi-media artists, lovers of Nature, poets, a new face in hell, amethyst deceivers, the eternal, ghosts beyond the white shadow, ice crystals, a dream where I play Mephistophilis in Marlowe's Faustus, irony. ------------------------------------------------------------ ------------------------------------------------------------ ------------------------------------------------------------ ------------------------------------------------------------ -------------The sun was shining on the sea, Shining with all his might: He did his very best to make The billows smooth and bright — And this was odd, because it was The middle of the night.The moon was shining sulkily, Because she thought the sun Had got no business to be there After the day was done — "It's very rude of him," she said, "To come and spoil the fun."The sea was wet as wet could be, The sands were dry as dry. You could not see a cloud, because No cloud was in the sky: No birds were flying overhead — There were no birds to fly.The Walrus and the Carpenter Were walking close at hand; They wept like anything to see Such quantities of sand: If this were only cleared away,' They said, it would be grand!'If seven maids with seven mops Swept it for half a year, Do you suppose,' the Walrus said, That they could get it clear?' I doubt it,' said the Carpenter, And shed a bitter tear.O Oysters, come and walk with us!' The Walrus did beseech. A pleasant walk, a pleasant talk, Along the briny beach: We cannot do with more than four, To give a hand to each.'The eldest Oyster looked at him, But never a word he said: The eldest Oyster winked his eye, And shook his heavy head — Meaning to say he did not choose To leave the oyster-bed.But four young Oysters hurried up, All eager for the treat: Their coats were brushed, their faces washed, Their shoes were clean and neat — And this was odd, because, you know, They hadn't any feet.Four other Oysters followed them, And yet another four; And thick and fast they came at last, And more, and more, and more — All hopping through the frothy waves, And scrambling to the shore.The Walrus and the Carpenter Walked on a mile or so, And then they rested on a rock Conveniently low: And all the little Oysters stood And waited in a row.The time has come,' the Walrus said, To talk of many things: Of shoes — and ships — and sealing-wax — Of cabbages — and kings — And why the sea is boiling hot — And whether pigs have wings.'But wait a bit,' the Oysters cried, Before we have our chat; For some of us are out of breath, And all of us are fat!' No hurry!' said the Carpenter. They thanked him much for that.A loaf of bread,' the Walrus said, Is what we chiefly need: Pepper and vinegar besides Are very good indeed — Now if you're ready, Oysters dear, We can begin to feed.'But not on us!' the Oysters cried, Turning a little blue. After such kindness, that would be A dismal thing to do!' The night is fine,' the Walrus said. Do you admire the view?It was so kind of you to come! And you are very nice!' The Carpenter said nothing but Cut us another slice: I wish you were not quite so deaf — I've had to ask you twice!'It seems a shame,' the Walrus said, To play them such a trick, After we've brought them out so far, And made them trot so quick!' The Carpenter said nothing but The butter's spread too thick!'I weep for you,' the Walrus said: I deeply sympathize.' With sobs and tears he sorted out Those of the largest size, Holding his pocket-handkerchief Before his streaming eyes.O Oysters,' said the Carpenter, You've had a pleasant run! Shall we be trotting home again?' But answer came there none — And this was scarcely odd, because They'd eaten every one." - Lewis Carroll ------------------------------------------------------------ ------------------------------------------------------------ ------------------------------------------------------------ ------------------------------------------------------------ ------------------------------------------------------------ ------------------------------------------------------------ ------------------------------------------------------------ ------------------------------------------------------------ ------------------------------------------------------------ ------------------------------------------------------------ ------------------------------------------------------------ ----------------------------The Four Zoas: The song of the Agèd Mother, which shook the heavens with wrath, Hearing the march of long-resounding, strong, heroic Verse, Marshall'd in order for the day of Intellectual Battle. Four Mighty Ones are in every Man: a perfect Unity Cannot exist but from the Universal Brotherhood of Eden, The Universal Man, to Whom be glory evermore. Amen. What are the Natures of those Living Creatures the Heavenly Father only Knoweth: no Individual knoweth, nor can know in all Eternity. Enion brooded o'er the rocks: the rough rocks groaning vegetate -- Such power was given to the solitary Wanderer -- The barkèd Oak, the long-limb'd Beech, the Chestnut-tree, the Pine, The Pear-tree mild, the frowning Walnut, the sharp Crab, and Apple sweet The rough bark opens, twittering peep forth little beaks and wings, The Nightingale, the Goldfinch, Robin, Lark, Linnet and Thrush; The Goat leap'd from the craggy cliff, the Sheep awoke from the mould; Upon its green stalk rose the Corn, waving innumerable, Enfolding the bright infants from the desolating winds. Eternity appear'd above them as One Man, enfolded In Luvah's robes of blood, and bearing all his afflictions: As the sun shines down on the misty earth, such was the Vision. But purple Night, and crimson Morning, and golden Day, descending Thro' the clear changing atmosphere, display'd green fields among The varying clouds, like Paradises stretch'd in the expanse, With towns, and villages, and temples, tents, sheep-folds and pastures, Where dwell the children of the Elemental worlds in harmony. The Mountain callèd out to the Mountain: `Awake, O Brother Mountain! Let us refuse the Plough and Spade, the heavy Roller and spikèd Harrow; burn all these corn-fields; throw down all these fences! Fatten'd on human blood, and drunk with wine of life is better far Than all these labours of the harvest and the vintage. See the river, Red with the blood of Men, swells lustful round my rocky knees: My clouds are not the clouds of verdant fields and groves of fruit, But Clouds of Human Souls: my nostrils drink the Lives of Men. `The Villages lament, they faint, outstretch'd upon the plain: Wailing runs round the Valleys from the mill and from the barn: But most the polish'd Palaces, dark, silent, bow with dread, Hiding their books and pictures underneath the dens of Earth. `The Cities send to one another saying: "My sons are mad With wine of cruelty! Let us plait a scourge, O Sister City! Children are nourish'd for the slaughter. Once the child was fed With milk; but wherefore now are children fed with blood?"' I seize the sphery harp, strike the strings! At the first sound the golden Sun arises from the deep, And shakes his awful hair; The Echo wakes the moon to unbind her silver locks: The golden Sun bears on my song, And nine bright Spheres of harmony rise round the fiery king. The joy of Woman is the death of her most best-belovèd, Who dies for love of her In torments of fierce jealousy and pangs of adoration: The Lovers' night bears on my song, And the nine Spheres rejoice beneath my powerful control. They sing unceasing to the notes of my immortal hand. The solemn, silent Moon Reverberates the living harmony upon my limbs; The birds and beasts rejoice and play, And every one seeks for his mate to prove his inmost joy. Furious and terrible they sport and rend the nether Deep; The Deep lifts up his rugged head, And, lost in infinite humming wings, vanishes with a cry. The fading cry is ever dying: The living voice is ever living in its inmost joy. Arise, you little glancing wings and sing your infant joy! Arise and drink your bliss! For everything that lives is holy; for the Source of Life Descends to be a Weeping Babe; For the Earthworm renews the moisture of the sandy plain. Now my left hand I stretch to Earth beneath, And strike the terrible string. I wake sweet joy in dens of sorrow, and I plant a smile In forests of affliction, And wake the bubbling springs of life in regions of dark death. O, I am weary! Lay thine hand upon me, or I faint. I faint beneath these beams of thine; For thou hast touchèd my five Senses, and they answer'd thee. Now I am nothing, and I sink, And on the bed of silence sleep, till thou awakest me. I am made to sow the thistle for wheat, the nettle for a nourishing dainty: I have planted a false oath in the earth, it has brought forth a Poison Tree: I have chosen the serpent for a counsellor, and the dog For a schoolmaster to my children: I have blotted out from light and living the dove and nightingale, And I have causèd the earthworm to beg from door to door: I have taught the thief a secret path into the house of the just: I have taught pale Artifice to spread his nets upon the morning My heavens are brass, my earth is iron, my moon a clod of clay, My sun a pestilence burning at noon, and a vapour of death in night. What is the price of Experience? Do men buy it for a song, Or Wisdom for a dance in the street? No! it is bought with the price Of all that a man hath -- his house, his wife, his children. Wisdom is sold in the desolate market where none come to buy, And in the wither'd field where the farmer ploughs for bread in vain. It is an easy thing to triumph in the summer's sun, And in the vintage, and to sing on the waggon loaded with corn: It is an easy thing to talk of patience to the afflicted, To speak the laws of prudence to the houseless wanderer, To listen to the hungry raven's cry in wintry season, When the red blood is fill'd with wine and with the marrow of lambs: It is an easy thing to laugh at wrathful elements; To hear the dog howl at the wintry door, the ox in the slaughter-house moan; To see a God on every wind and a blessing on every blast; To hear sounds of Love in the thunderstorm that destroys our enemy's house; To rejoice in the blight that covers his field, and the sickness that cuts off his children, While our olive and vine sing and laugh round our door, and our children bring fruits and flowers. Then the groan and the dolour are quite forgotten, and the slave grinding at the mill, And the captive in chains, and the poor in the prison, and the soldier in the field When the shatter'd bone hath laid him groaning among the happier dead: It is an easy thing to rejoice in the tents of prosperity -- Thus would I sing and thus rejoice; but it is not so with me. Still the faint harps and silver voices calm the weary couch; But from the caves of deepest Night, ascending in clouds of mist, The Winter spread his wide black wings across from pole to pole; Grim Frost beneath and terrible Snow, link'd in a marriage chain, Began a dismal dance. The Winds around on pointed rocks Settled like bats innumerable, ready to fly abroad. Ah! how shall Urizen the King submit to this dark mansion? Ah! how is this? Once on the heights I stretch'd my throne sublime. The mountains of Urizen, once of silver, where the sons of wisdom dwelt, And on whose tops the virgins sang, are rocks of Desolation. My fountains, once the haunt of swans, now breed the scaly tortoise, The houses of my harpers are become a haunt of crows, The gardens of Wisdom are become a field of horrid graves, And on the bones I drop my tears, and water them in vain. Once how I walkèd from my Palace in gardens of delight! The sons of wisdom stood around, the harpers follow'd with harps, Nine virgins, cloth'd in light, compos'd the song to their immortal voices, And at my banquets of new wine my head was crown'd with joy. Then in my ivory pavilions I slumber'd in the noon, And walkèd in the silent night among sweet-smelling flowers, Till on my silver bed I slept, and sweet dreams round me hover'd; But now my land is darken'd and my wise men are departed. My songs are turnèd to cries of lamentation Heard on my mountains, and deep sighs under my palace roof; Because the steeds of Urizen, once swifter than the light, Were kept back from my Lord and from his chariot of mercies. O! did I keep the horses of the Day in silver pastures! O! I refus'd the Lord of Day the horses of his Prince! O! did I close my treasuries with roofs of solid stone, And darken all my palace walls with envyings and hate! O fool! to think that I could hide from his all-piercing eyes The gold and silver and costly stones, his holy workmanship. O fool! could I forget the light that fillèd my bright spheres Was a reflection of his face who call'd me from the deep! I well remember, for I heard the mild and holy voice Saying: `O Light, spring up and shine,' and I sprang up from the deep. He gave to me a silver sceptre, and crown'd me with a golden crown, And said: `Go forth and guide my Son who wanders on the ocean.' I went not forth: I hid myself in black clouds of my wrath: I call'd the stars around my feet in the night of councils dark; The stars threw down their spears, and fled naked away. We fell: I seiz'd thee, dark Urthona, in my left hand, falling, I seiz'd thee, beauteous Luvah; thou art faded like a flower, And like a lily thy wife Vala, wither'd by winds. When thou didst bear the golden cup at the immortal tables, Thy children smote their fiery wings, crown'd with the gold of Heaven. Thy pure feet stept on the steps divine, too pure for other feet, And thy fair locks shadow'd thine eyes from the divine effulgence. Then thou didst keep with strong Urthona the living gates of Heaven; But now thou art bow'd down with him, even to the gates of Hell. Because thou gavest Urizen the wine of the Almighty For steeds of Light, that they might run in thy golden chariot of pride, I gave to thee the steeds. I pour'd the stolen wine, And, drunken with the immortal draught, fell from my throne sublime. I will arise, explore these dens, and find that deep pulsation That shakes my caverns with strong shudders. Perhaps this is the Night Of Prophecy, and Luvah hath burst his way from Enitharmon. When Thought is clos'd in Caves, then Love shall show its root in deepest Hell. Los rear'd his mighty stature: on Earth stood his feet; above The Moon his furious forehead, cricled with black bursting thunders; His naked limbs glitt'ring upon the dark blue sky, his knees Bathèd in bloody clouds; his loins in fires of War, where spears And swords rage, where the Eagles cry and Vultures laugh, saying: `Now comes the night of carnage, now the flesh of Kings and Princes Pamper'd in palaces for our food, the blood of Captains nurtur'd With lust and murder for our drink. The drunken Raven shall wander All night among the slain, and mock the wounded that groan in the field.' Loud sounds the war-song round red Orc in his fury, And round the nameless Shadowy Female in her howling terror, When all the Elemental Gods join'd in the wondrous song: -- `Sound the war-trumpet terrific, souls clad in attractive steel! Sound the shrill fife, Serpents of War! I hear the northern drum Awake! I hear the flappings of the folding banners! The Dragons of the North put on their armour; Upon the eastern sea direct they take their course; The glitt'ring of their horses' trappings stains the vault of night. `Stop we the rising of the glorious King! spur, spur your clouds Of death! O northern drum, awake! O hand of iron, sound The northern drum! Now give the charge! bravely obscur'd With darts of wintry hail! Again the black bow draw; Again the elemental strings to your right breasts draw; eAnd let the thund'ring drum speed on the arrows black! And she went forth and saw the forms of Life and of Delight Walking on mountains, or flying in the open expanse of heaven. She heard sweet voices in the winds, and in the voices of birds That rose from waters; for the waters were as the voice of Luvah, Not seen to her like waters, or like this dark world of death; Tho' all those fair perfections, which men known only by name. In beautiful substantial forms appear'd, and servèd her As food or drink or ornament, or in delightful works To build her bowers. For the elements brought forth abundantly The living Soul in glorious forms; and every one came forth, Walking before her Shadowy face and bowing at her feet. But, in vain, delights were pourèd forth on the howling Melancholy! For her delight the Horse his proud neck bow'd, and his white mane; And the strong Lion deign'd in his mouth to wear the golden bit; While the far-beaming Peacock waited on the fragrant wind To bring her fruits of sweet delight from trees of richest wonders; And the strong-pinion'd Eagle bore the fire of Heaven in the night-season And Urizen read in his Book of Brass in sounding tones: -- `Listen, O Daughters, to my voice! listen to the words of wisdom! Compel the Poor to live upon a crust of bread by soft mild arts: So shall you govern over all. Let Moral Duty tune your tongue, But be your hearts harder than the nether millstone; To bring the Shadow of Enitharmon beneath our wondrous Tree, That Los may evaporate like smoke, and be no more. Draw down Enitharmon to the Spectre of Urthona, And let him have dominion over Los, the terrible Shade. Smile when they frown, frown when they smile; and when a man looks pale With labour and abstinence, say he looks healthy and happy; And when his children sicken, let them die: there are enough Born, even too many, and our earth will soon be overrun Without these arts. If you would make the Poor live with temper, With pomp give every crust of bread you give; with gracious cunning Magnify small gifts; reduce the man to want a gift, and then give with pomp. Say he smiles, if you hear him sigh; if pale, say he is ruddy Preach temperance: say he is overgorg'd, and drowns his wit In strong drink, tho' you know that bread and water are all He can afford. Flatter his wife, pity his children, till we can Reduce all to our will, as spaniels are taught with art.' Her Shadow went forth and return'd. Now she was pale as snow,When the mountains and hills are cover'd over, and the paths of men shut up;But, when her Spirit return'd, as ruddy as a morning whenThe ripe fruit blushes into joy in Heaven's eternal halls. He saw Orc, a Serpent form, augmenting times on times In the fierce battle; and he saw the Lamb of God, and the world of Los Surrounded by his dark machines; for Orc augmented swift In fury, a Serpent wondrous, among the constellations of Urizen. A crest of fire rose on his forehead, red as the carbuncle; Beneath, down to his eyelids, scales of pearl; then gold and silver, Immingled with the ruby, overspread his visage; down His furious neck, writhing contortive in dire budding pains, The scaly armour shot out. Stubborn, down his back and bosom, The emerald, onyx, sapphire, jasper, beryl, amethyst, Strove in terrific emulation which should gain a place Upon the mighty fiend -- the fruit of the Mysterious. Tree Kneaded in Uvith's kneading- trough. For such they deem'd the death of the body -- Los his vegetable hands Outstretch'd; his right hand, branching out in fibrous strength, Seiz'd the Sun; his left hand, like dark roots, cover'd the Moon, And tore them down, cracking the heavens across from immense to immense. Then fell the fires of Eternity, with loud and shrill Sound of loud Trumpet, thundering along from heaven to heaven, A mighty sound articulate: `Awake! ye Dead, and come To Judgment from the four winds! awake, and come away!' Folding like scrolls of the enormous volume of Heaven and Earth, With thunderous noise and dreadful shakings, rocking to and fro, The Heavens are shaken, and the Earth removèd from its place; The foundations of the eternal hills discover'd. The thrones of Kings are shaken, they have lost their robes and crowns; The Poor smite their oppressors, they awake up to the harvest; The naked warriors rush together down to the seashore, Trembling before the multitudes of slaves now set at liberty: They are become like wintry flocks, like forests stripp'd of leaves. The Oppressèd pursue like the wind; there is no room for escape. . . The Books of Urizen unroll with dreadful noise! The folding Serpent Of Orc began to consume in fierce raving fire; his fierce flames Issu'd on all sides, gathering strength in animating volumes, Roaring abroad on all the winds, raging intense, reddening Into resistless pillars of fire, rolling round and round, gathering Strength from the earths consum'd, and heavens, and all hidden abysses, Where'er the Eagle has explor'd, or Lion or Tiger trod, Or where the comets of the night, or stars of day Have shot their arrows or long-beamèd spears in wrath and fury. And all the while the Trumpet sounds. From the clotted gore, and from the hollow den Start forth the trembling millions into flames of mental fire, Bathing their limbs in the bright visions of Eternity. Then, like the doves from pillars of smoke, the trembling families Of women and children throughout every nation under heaven Cling round the men in bands of twenties and of fifties, pale As snow that falls round a leafless tree upon the green. Their oppressors are fall'n; they have stricken them; they awake to life. Yet, pale, the Just man stands erect, and looking up to Heav'n. Trembling and strucken by the universal stroke, the trees unroot; The rocks groan horrible and run about; the mountains and Their rivers cry with a dismal cry; the cattle gather together, Lowing they kneel before the heavens; the wild beasts of the forests Tremble. The Lion, shuddering, asks the Leopard: `Feelest thou The dread I feel, unknown before? My voice refuses to roar, And in weak moans I speak to thee. This night, Before the morning's dawn, the Eagle call'd the Vulture, The Raven call'd the Hawk. I heard them from my forests, Saying: "Let us go up far, for soon I smell upon the wind A terror coming from the South." The Eagle and Hawk fled away At dawn, and ere the sun arose, the Raven and Vulture follow'd. Let us flee also to the North.' They fled. The Sons of Men Saw them depart in dismal droves. The trumpets sounded loud, And all the Sons of Eternity descended into Beulah. O weakness and O weariness! O war within my members! My sons, exilèd from my breast, pass to and fro before me. My birds are silent in my hills; flocks die beneath my branches; My tents are fallen; my trumpets and the sweet sounds of my harp Is silent on my clouded hills that belch forth storms and fires; My milk of cows, and honey of bees, and fruit of golden harvest Are gather'd in the scorching heat and in the driving rain. My robe is turnèd to confusion, and my bright gold to stone. Where once I sat, I weary walk in misery and pain; For from within my wither'd breast, grown narrow with my woes, The corn is turn'd to thistles, and the apples into poison; The birds of song to murderous crows, my joys to bitter groans; The voices of children in my tents to cries of helpless infants. And all exilèd from the face of light and shine of morning, In this dark World, a narrow house! I wander up and down: I hear Mystery howling in these flames of Consummation. When shall the Man of future times become as in days of old? O weary life! why sit I here and give up all my powers To indolence, to the night of death, when indolence and mourning Sit hovering over my dark threshold? Tho' I arise, look out And scorn the war within my members, yet my heart is weak And my head faint. -- Yet will I look again into the morning! Whence is this sound of rage of men drinking each other's blood, Drunk with the smoking gore, and red, but not with nourishing wine. They see him whom they have pierc'd; they wail because of him; They magnify themselves no more against Jerusalem, nor Against her little ones. The Innocent, accusèd before the judges, Shines with immortal glory: trembling, the Judge springs from his throne, Hiding his face in the dust beneath the prisoner's feet, and saying: `Brother of Jesus, what have I done? Entreat thy Lord for me! Perhaps I may be forgiven.' Then seiz'd the sons of Urizen the plough: they polish'd it From rust of ages: all its ornament of gold and silver and ivory Re-shone across the field immense, where all the nations Darken'd like mould in the divided fallows, where the weed Triumphs in its own destruction. They took down the harness From the blue walls of Heaven, starry, jingling, ornamented With beautiful art, the study of Angels, the workmanship of Demons, When Heaven and Hell in emulation strove in sports of glory. The noise of rural work resounded thro' the heavens of heavens: The horses neigh from the battle, the wild bulls from the sultry waste, The tigers from the forests, and the lions from the sandy deserts. They sing; they seize the instruments of harmony; they throw away The spear, the bow, the gun, the mortar; they level the fortifications; They beat the iron engines of destruction into wedges; They give them to Urthona's sons. Ringing, the hammers sound In dens of death, to forge the spade, the mattock, and the axe, The heavy roller to break the clods, to pass over the nations. `Come forth, O Vala! from the grass and from the silent dew; Rise from the dews of death, for the Eternal Man is risen!' She rises among flowers and looks toward the eastern clearness; She walks, yea runs -- her feet are wing'd -- on the tops of the bending grass; Her garments rejoice in the vocal wind, and her hair glistens with dew. She answer'd thus: `Whose voice is this in the voice of the nourishing air, In the spirit of the morning, awaking the Soul from its grassy bed? Where dost thou dwell? for it is thee I seek, and but for thee I must have slept eternally, nor have felt the dew of thy morning. Look how the opening dawn advances with vocal harmony! Look how the beams foreshow the rising of some glorious power! The Sun is thine; he goeth forth in his majestic brightness. O thou creating voice that callest! and who shall answer thee? `Where dost thou flee, O Fair One! where dost thou seek thy happy place? To yonder brightness? There I haste, for sure I came from thence; Or I must have slept eternally, nor have felt the dew of morning.' `Eternally thou must have slept, nor have felt the morning dew, But for yon nourishing Sun: 'tis that by which thou art arisen. The birds adore the Sun; the beasts rise up and play in his beams, And every flower and every leaf rejoices in his light. Then, O thou Fair One, sit thee down, for thou art as the grass, Thou risest in the dew of morning, and at night art folded up.' `Alas! am I but as a flower? Then will I sit me down; Then will I weep; then I'll complain, and sigh for immortality, And chide my maker, thee O Sun, that raisedst me to fall.' So saying she sat down and wept beneath the apple-trees. `O! be thou blotted out, thou Sun, that raisedst me to trouble, That gavest me a heart to crave, and raisedst me, thy phantom, To feel thy heart, and see thy light, and wander here alone, Hopeless, if I am like the grass, and so shall pass away.' `Rise, sluggish Soul! Why sitt'st thou here? why dost thou sit and weep? Yon Sun shall wax old and decay, but thou shalt ever flourish. The fruit shall ripen and fall down, and the flowers consume away, But thou shalt still survive. Arise! O dry thy dewy tears!' `Ha! shall I still survive? Whence came that sweet and comforting voice, And whence that voice of sorrow? O Sun! thou art nothing now to me: Go on thy course rejoicing, and let us both rejoice together! I walk among His flocks and hear the bleating of His lambs. O! that I could behold His face and follow His pure feet! I walk by the footsteps of His flocks. Come hither, tender flocks! Can you converse with a pure Soul that seeketh for her Maker? You answer not: then am I set your mistress in this garden. I'll watch you and attend your footsteps. You are not like the birds That sing and fly in the bright air; but you do lick my feet, And let me touch your wooly backs: follow me as I sing; For in my bosom a new Song arises to my Lord: `Rise up, O Sun! most glorious minister and light of day! Flow on, ye gentle airs, and bear the voice of my rejoicing! Wave freshly, clear waters, flowing around the tender grass; And thou, sweet-smelling ground, put forth thy life in fruit and flowers! Follow me, O my flocks, and hear me sing my rapturous song! I will cause my voice to be heard on the clouds that glitter in the sun. I will call, and who shall answer me? I shall sing; who shall reply? For, from my pleasant hills, behold the living, living springs, Running among my green pastures, delighting among my trees! I am not here alone: my flocks, you are my brethren; And you birds, that sing and adorn the sky, you are my sisters. I sing, and you reply to my song; I rejoice, and you are glad. Follow me, O my flocks! we will now descend into the valley. O, how delicious are the grapes, flourishing in the sun! How clear the spring of the rock, running among the golden sand! How cool the breezes of the valley! And the arms of the branching trees Cover us from the sun: come and let us sit in the shade. My Luvah here hath plac'd me in a sweet and pleasant land, And given me fruits and pleasant waters, and warm hills and cool valleys. Here will I build myself a house, and here I'll call on His name; Here I'll return, when I am weary, and take my pleasant rest.' So saying, she arose and walkèd round her beautiful house; And then from her white door she look'd to see her bleating lambs, But her flocks were gone up from beneath the trees into the hills. `I see the hand that leadeth me doth also lead my flocks.' She went up to her flocks, and turnèd oft to see her shining house. She stopp'd to drink of the clear spring, and eat the grapes and apples; She bore the fruits in her lap; she gather'd flowers for her bosom. She callèd to her flocks, saying: `Follow me, O my flocks!' They follow'd her to the silent valley beneath the spreading trees, And on the river's margin she ungirded her golden girdle; She stood in the river and view'd herself within the wat'ry glass, And her bright hair was wet with the waters. She rose up from the river, And as she rose her eyes were open'd to the world of waters; She saw Tharmas sitting upon the rocks beside the wavy sea.-- William Blake------------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------------------------------------ ---------------------"The human phenomenon is but the sum of densely coiled layers of illusion, each of which winds itself upon the supreme insanity that there are persons of any kind, when all there can be is mindless mirrors, laughing and screaming as they parade about, in an endless dream." ------------------------------------------------------------ ------------------------------------------------------------ - The Hanged Man
Self-sacrifice, Sacrifice, Devotion, Bound.
With the Hanged man there is often a sense of fatalism, waiting for something to happen. Or a fear of loss from a situation, rather than gain.
The Hanged Man reflects the story of Odin who offered himself as a sacrifice in order to gain knowledge. Hanging from the world tree, wounded by a spear, given no bread or mead, he hung for nine days. On the last day, he saw on the ground runes that had fallen from the tree, understood their meaning, and, coming down, scooped them up for his own. All knowledge is to be found in these runes.
The Hanged Man, in similar fashion, is a card about suspension, not life or death. It signifies selflessness, sacrifice and prophecy. You make yourself vulnerable and in doing so, gain illumination. ------------------------------------------------------------ ---------------------------------------------------------Tar ot? No!--------------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------------------------------------ ------------------------------------------------------------ ---------------------------------------------------------Music implodes with everything else.Abrasive, distorted, infinite sounds and tones, emotionless intonation; Gyorgy Ligeti, Luigi Nono, Schoenberg, Stockhausen, The Fall, John Cage, Coil, Spiritualized, Merzbow, Solmania, Skinny Puppy, Einstuerzende Neubauten, Incapacitants; dark moods, electronic, noise guitar, noise, ethereal, psychedelic; "We have also sound-houses, where we practise and demonstrate all sounds and their generation. We have harmony which you have not, of quarter-sounds and lesser slides of sounds. Divers instruments of music likewise to you unknown, some sweeter than any you have; with bells and rings that are dainty and sweet. We represent small sounds as great and deep, likewise great sounds extenuate and sharp; we make divers tremblings and warblings of sounds, which in their original are entire. We represent and imitate all articulate sounds and letters, and the voices and notes of beasts and birds. We have certain helps which, set to the ear, do further the hearing greatly; we have also divers strange and artificial echoes, reflecting the voice many times, and, as it were, tossing it; and some that give back the voice louder than it came, some shriller and some deeper; yea, some rendering the voice, differing in the letters or articulate sound from that they receive. We have all means to convey sounds in trunks and pipes, in strange lines and distances." - Francis Bacon, The New Atlantis
In the Shadow of the Sun, In the Shadow of the Silent Majorities mspmb allowScriptAccess="never" allowNetworking="internal" enableJSURL="false" enableHREF="false" saveEmbedTags="true" src=http://../css/.. ......
Throw out your tv. Smash it. Set it on fire. Then start on the pc.
Serve Humans by Legled Trepteg, Moby Dick by Herman Melville, VALIS by Philip K. Dick, A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man by James Joyce, The Third Policeman by Flann O'Brien, Also Sprach Zarathustra by Friedrich Nietzsche, Fear and Trembling by Soren Kierkegaard, Being and Time by Martin Heidegger, Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoevskii, Hide by Mark Wright, Shardik by Richard Adams, Saidness by Uik Blume; writing of William Blake, Jean Arp, Antonin Artaud, William S. Burroughs, Michael Moorcock, Rumi, Hakim Bey, Rimbaud, Schopenhauer, Michel Foucault, Goethe, Kafka, Emily Dickinson, Gary Snyder, Jacques Derrida, Maurice Merleau-Ponty, Vincent Van Gogh, Jorge Luis Borges, Samuel Beckett, Georges Bataille, Jean Genet, Vladimir Nabokov, Nikolai Gogol, Baruch Spinoza, Hegel, Edmund Husserl, Jack Kerouac, Mary Shelley, Lewis Carroll, Albert Camus, Mark Twain, H.P. Lovecraft, Edgar Allan Poe, Nathaniel Hawthorne, Brion Gysin, John Cage, Allen Ginsberg, Michael McClure, Ursula LeGuin, Lautreamont, Jean Baudrillard, Noam Chomsky, Walt Whitman, Gene Wolfe, Stanislaw Lem.
Peter McGuire