October 27, 2010

This & That...


Chesterton poem:
THE HOLY OF HOLIES

'Elder father, though thine eyes
Shine with hoary mysteries,
Canst thou tell what in the heart
Of a cowslip blossom lies?

'Smaller than all lives that be,
Secret as the deepest sea,
Stands a little house of seeds,
Like an elfin's granary,

'Speller of the stones and weeds,
Skilled in Nature's crafts and creeds,
Tell me what is in the heart
Of the smallest of the seeds.'

'God Almighty, and with Him
Cherubim and Seraphim,
Filling all eternity—
Adonai Elohim.'


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View outside my door...


View on my TV...

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The sky is a subdued blue, a far cry from apricot-colored Sunday. I truck to the car and open all the windows in order to smell the itemized rain, intermixed with the whine of tornado warning sirens. The hum-echo of the sirens sound vaguely haunted, like the muezzin call in a forlorn desert. It makes me long to read a travelogue.

And a boundary so marked one can scarcely recall! The pre-rain day poignant with clouds but surprisingly warm, until the deluge begins and a forceful chill descends. The rain pours in great gusts and it's a pleasing sort, for the seasonal aspect of it. Do we not long, deep down, for spring to look like spring, winter like winter, summer like summer and fall like fall? Don't we want the essence of a thing mirror its surface?

Have moved ever-briefly to the friendly confines of a nearly empty cafeteria, looking out the rain-soaked windows and half-listening to the light jazz in the background. Missing only my decanter of coffee, the necessary accompaniment to bloggish journeys. Read a bit of the Dispatch and how taken the academic community is with the Burning Man festival. I'm ever hyp-mo-tized by how the academics are wont to fall for the notion of Utopia, especially when it involves nekkid folks. A LA Times piece says that one dissertation writer couldn't "help noticing the dichotomy between female empowerment and male lust." The empowerment being all the women who took a bare-chested ride on bicycles outside Reno. The male lust is obvious. It's clear what men are thinking when they see a topless girl, it's a bit less clear, to me anyway, why girls going naked would be a symbol of power. "It was women celebrating being women," said one. Okay then.

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This online book organizer seems intriguing.

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