..............This heart pain is not a medicine.


tertius said...
The importance of joyce is the life given to the local dialect, accent and dialogue, there is the nationalism... look at the place names of the indigneous...his magnitude lies where the language begins to break down, defragment and become isolated from the rest of the universe and thus he uncovers the flaws in the political activism...where ever it is applied...entropy again...


each line...strengthens the picture but never makes it final.

.........................We accept that as the method of the artist...

...But what physics has done is to show that it is not the only method to knowledge.

There is no absolute knowledge. And those who claim it, whether they are scientists or dogmatists

open the door to tragedy.

All information is imperfect_______________________________________

but I am not interested just now in the poem's meaning (meaning is problematic in any case) interested here in the look of the totality of his work as worked through and I then transform it - as things constantly do in life - in fact I went "berserk" with it almost in trance or a fever, a kind of "creative rage" perhaps: creating a new "poem" or text as in the following image-poem-text-enactment: an implication of an infinite and progressive or degressive process ... I got very angry with it:


tertius said...
Chaucer and his canterbury tales conjure english nationalism...

tertius said...

And the tale was unfinished...the illusion of democracy...a greek philosophy, an ideal but a reality not then or now...in political terms there are republics with monarchies or military juntas or state bodies...democracy you machiviellian tragedy...you evasive woman...you coy virgin...democracy you licentious whore

maybe a shadow sleeps in your hand, but it is not known to the divergent multitude, who are cross with destiny. Our quarrel is not so direct, or our bubbles so gloating in their rise.


A baby emits a cry of life on being thrust into a cold, bright world.
Gone is the dark warmth of the mother's womb.
The umbilical cord is severed and closed off.

tertius said...
Language poets break down all meaning and strive to sleep with democracy...the pillow talk bleeds all structure and the orgasm cries to the progeny...whats left is the mumble and the ramblings of the vagrant striving for food as he talks to the statute of david in the garden of the church where he was buried a thousand years ago...



The loss of dialogue in philosophy has been a central problem since Plato; Cavell, applying this to his own work, and that of Thoreau, talks about the dialogue of a “text answerable to itself”. Certainly Philosophical Investigations is the primary instance of such a text in this century, and also a primary instance of taking this practice as method. I can easily imagine more extreme forms of this: where
fingers

like leafic fingers –
And the silence: you -
you would never know that silence:

You struggle toward the word,
but it dashes thru time, spinning, and blurring;
- and, I cant. I try though:
I shove my hand into the Nothing Flower



contrasting moods and styles of argument, shifting styles and perspectives, would surface the individual the individual modes and perspectives, would surface the individual modes and their meaning in individual ways, and perhaps further Heidegger’s call for an investigation into “pure thinking” (Thinking is also construction.) Indeed, I can imagine a writing that would provide a philosophic insight but would keep essentially a fabric of
dance – logopoeia – where truth would not be to the validity of argument but to the ontological truthfulness of its meaning.


Richard Comments – they don’t break down all meaning – there is still semantic significance whether in the frame of what they say or in the language potential of the multiplex utterances they devise and their challenge to conventional “linear” meaning – the sign either takes center stage or the conjunction of signs –as it is put –“the materiality of the signifier” – and in the most exploded text there is significance . By being conventionally meaningful there is a dangerof total absorption that tactics such as “ostranie” counterattack…and there is much else.


There is danger of too much meaning – too much coercive truth or assertion.


These comments highlight some of the pitfalls.

But even since Modernism –ambiguity has been essential for the rejuvenation of intense and significant language that struggles against the
ubiquity of
The Text
and
received History

– the Fascism of Enlightenment struggles

with the wonderful beauty of undecidability – the Humanist strangulation of

creative Anarchy.

...........The immense power and Awe of the Vacuum into which the spider and the shopkeeper equally peer….


.....................WHAT AM I DOING HERE ?

tertius said...
The revelation and dissemblence of the nobody..'i think therefore i am a dinosaur'. Democracy spread your pillars and lets enter your chamber...there is a gift here...ready to be opened...


eternal sections golden dark eye light black light light black eternal red sections eternal eyelight thinking into black light white light light eternal eternal quia sections who know dark light white eternal dark eye golden black light sections sections eye light light red green black light sections sections eye light light red green scream section perpendicular dark redicular dark bipedal forked light red who golden sections green light green gold black quia sections old dark old gold black black black white ablaze sections quiver final black lip dark eternal lip light black green perpendicular sections white aristotelian greenluck eye bread black mount sea black eye mount red mane all eye bespeak beating sections quia unconnected blackfinal eternal white white eternal perpendicular who


Think here of W H Auden and the paradox of thinking oneself beyond and man –devised Portal whereunder Zeus may well enter the excited Golden Ox…

possibly food pits on Maungarei - the whole mountain was shaped for defence and around were huge areas of cultivations

tertius said...
The blood falls from the altar

Richard Taylor said...

That's what I liked about what Huxley liked or one aspect Huxley admired in Lawrence (a friend) was that he liked things such as the Etruscan civilisation as there were no ruins or evidence of fixed abode per se - in other words he believed in, loved, flux - we cant have too much) - taken loosely this is phenomenology (a convenient word; a shell to hide in - possibly meaningless in some ways -very abstract ideas implied - but interesting ) ; and your "poetic" philosophising and musing some what captures some of my own doubts and realisations of uncertainties and the folding reality of ambiguity –


These can be seen as images or fragments of images or images of fragments. At this stage we might consider "The Wound and the Bow" the book of essays by Edmund Wilson or we might consider other - well we could consider an infinite variety as we leap into the grave to philosophise - only to find Yorrick - for we are surely at the "wobble point" (or the 3b point) when Eternity Herself (fucked pisshead!) leans down and paints our ears with new resolve (or is that reslove?) as to the consideration of a new renewed vigour and a +ve decline and fall into hope or (the old rolled Protogroanic slime - so well recalled!!) as things old young and sessile or not (case may be) start warming up in the yes no yessiness mess we had hoped would fold away; tent; but again we recall the finger - either pointing or indexing - or being something that had been something that had been (caught out in fact) "having written" or "writ" (case may be) and being uncanceleable - especially as we (and he) re think or "hear" (for who can hear?!!) the preliminary shiver (one of those feeble erotic nigger fat bastards who actually still believe(s) in things!!!!) - or was that shudder? - touche! trouve! - as the machine leaps into life (as they say in X) and thence the recall of those "horribly mutilated limbs and genitals" he observed - result of mustard gas - sounds so harmless - I - if I had some ham to eat or consume - I would indeed use Colemans - I use Colemans - and we image have of man on an ice pack in immaculate dress - being borne (or was that born?!) away by the imperceptible movement in some glass cold ocean where regret (carefully kept) and love etc become only the ghasted ghosts of silent ghosts inside the fagged out and toroidal echoes slowly dissipating smoke smook steam arises in canisters of concealed butts (or was that 'buts') -

--------------------------- .....democracy you licentious whore


of course nothing is much 'if' use now if "'it': - and - the bowler - hatted Immaculata Man (looks so much like P McGoohan) is quite at Peace - e'en smirking! - so we skew back to the Nothing Flower - and the various possiblities of consistency -or what is called "moral certainty" and indeed a kind of rectitude re-erects itself inside us as we advance on the powdered moon (facing itself, and giggling googling to Echo - the Bitch!) - or read a story of a soldier who loved a leopard - for it is clearly futile (or pukile?) to re-examine David or Michelangelo's "Pieta" - wonderful as these works are - it "all falling over ("at the mouth" - ho!) as 1) Their lastingness is in doubt 2) something moved 3) the virgin is or would be (grotesquely) vast again (or was that Finneagain finished again- ha ah!!) if she got up - Dwarf the whole of Man and History (and Gott?) 4) supported by the marble folds (reippping collumnars thro her dress flowing descend about

fingers like leafic fingers –
And the silence: you -
you would never know that silence:
You struggle toward the word,
but it dashes thru time, spinning, and blurring;
- and, I cant. I try though:
I shove my hand into the Nothing Flower

.....................................................................WHAT AM I DOING HERE ?


down up her majestically ecstatica ant errant newt face..) almost seeming to rise UPWARDS 5); I at least have read nothing by Edward Upward

6) J A has "done" Parmigianino - and Convexity again raises its ugly face, magical marvel of marble; and how are we to continue with cannallettoical interruptions such as that, some noisy (or was that nosey?) bastard saying hullo and .... well it all intercounnterfabulates and its smoko in any case (this is no slur on those whose predilectio delicto inflagroante delecto forepooooooorceptile conforgulation has been ressessiled in the circalouakaathumping pumping ooohh aah ooh ahhh ooh ahhh Free Process as in Morgan's Transforms oooh ahhh ohooh ahhhhhach ("Well those Byellorussian tone poems we are all so familiar with!" ( drives down ( egg nightmare ( wishes ( begin? (Homo Thinkins? (Ecstaticasss (eclairrissment! (I paid my penny (ad in fin......... ... ... ... ... (startles the the thought knob (throb and bub (we and him (hist of nightmares (wake up to death or flowers (beans again ....

( and all mimsy were the groves (a nightmare of faces....(labels...(peril - at your -peristalttic peril (evil Errol (big ( East of... (stomach retreat to reiterate ( sate (cancel nor all yer wit...(a wity desecration as of dog shit (light again...
Churchill being perhaps a "butcher" but less so maybe than Kitchener and also perhaps "necessary" although Gallipoli a mess I feel, bloody and red and surreal as cardboard Caesar-men who bestrid the world in a colossal mockery of time ...but certainly perhaps needed in WW2 ... Hitler and others including the Terrorist Stalin seemingly like Genghis Kan a fascinating and perhaps a sad but necessary ("necessary murder" {Auden in "Spain" - he changed the wording even before Owrwell's objection)) because possibly proleptically an inevitable aspect of human history –


each line...strengthens the picture but never makes it final. We accept that as the method of the artist...

...But what physics has done is to show that it is not the only method to knowledge. There is no absolute knowledge. And those who claim it, whether they are scientists or dogmatists open the door to tragedy. All information is imperfect_______________________________________


I came here via reading the Maps and I am NOT impressed.

As a typical reader, I want had-hitting action, bang for me bick, NOT self-indulgent postasting and circle jerks by pseudonyms.

C'mon, mate, have some self-respect: do you Live or do you EXIST?

You fucking cunt.
..................................the dirty but possible windows


the dead fly on the window sill



........................Ravel and Te Kooti and Tama and the music


a part of what we actually are - in Ireland the huge injustices done by the British and the collaborators - de Valera (or his deputies?) mucking up under pressure from (liberal but also "thunder guns") Lloyd Goerge was it? - threatening to attack with all guns if he didn't sign but signing away Northern Ireland))

,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,Joyce, fascinated by words and sounds,

eternal sections golden dark eye light black light light black eternal red sections eternal eyelight thinking into black light white light light eternal eternal quia sections who know dark light white eternal dark eye golden black light sections sections eye light light red green black light sections sections eye light light red green scream section perpendicular dark redicular dark bipedal forked light red who golden sections green light green gold black quia sections old dark old gold black black black white ablaze sections quiver final black lip dark eternal lip light black green perpendicular sections white aristotelian greenluck eye bread black mount sea black eye mount red mane all eye bespeak beating sections quia unconnected blackfinal eternal white white eternal perpendicular who

("the sad sunken cunt of the world", "the snot green sea",

"Boys, see that pier - it's a disappointed bridge"! (I puzzled over that one it has about 4 meanings hidden in it - probably more - Finnegans Wake on the way!);,

"Stately plump Buck Mulligan stately intoned:

"Introibo altare deo"


(a mockery - deliberate...,

...and Joyce, whose name means Joy;

hiding in Europe scared of dogs and thunder, influenced by Giordorno Bruno and Vico as Yeats and Ross was - hiding inside his genius and so on, creating Bloom

who becomes Boom!, then the Polyphemus (the Citizen)

throws the biscuit tin as Bloom Odysseus escapes the blinded hater - still Irish to the bone but mocking his own country with the bitter but comic intensity of those who know it and hate it and deeply love it...
He leaned closer. Perhaps there wasn’t much hope in him

M...O...K...O


outcast, and shows it. For me tattooing is very profound. The meeting of body and, well, the spirit—it’s a real kind of art, it’s on the skin. It’s both
material and not material and it’s also a sign of the outcast. So that’s what I’m saying about looking for the myth with people like that—tattoo artists, sailors, pirates.
EGF: They represent the outcasts?
KA: Not just outcasts—outcasts could be bums—but people who are beginning to take their own sign-making into their own hands. They’re conscious of their own sign-making,

N.Z. my country I would die for??

Die for a rag and some letters?

[Boom!! Tama Iti shooting the NZ Rag! Booooooooooooooom!!!!]

Boom or bloom again!??
The loss of dialogue in philosophy has been a central problem since Plato; Cavell, applying this to his own work, and that of Thoreau, talks about the dialogue of a “text answerable to itself”. Certainly Philosophical Investigations is the primary instance of such a text in this century, and also a primary instance of taking this practice as method. I can easily imagine more extreme forms of this: where contrasting moods and styles of argument, shifting styles and perspectives, would surface the individual the individual modes and perspectives, would surface the individual modes and their meaning in individual ways, and perhaps further Heidegger’s call for an investigation into “pure thinking” (Thinking is also construction.) Indeed, I can imagine a writing that would provide a philosophic insight but would keep essentially a fabric of
dance – logopoeia – where truth would not be to the validity of argument but to the ontological truthfulness of its meaning.

Not sure...parents English never been to England...remote...You - Scotland and Ireland and Kiwiland... the song continues ... Yeats meeting Joyce in Dublin but puzzled by him - quite different men - Joyce not telling the Old Master he knew all his poems by heart...Pound discovering Joyce...

So many petals.

You cannot conceive
the intense concentration as my head
transformed to a vast glass sphere:

with a precise, and tireless, and all-watching eye:
- and intented thru, like all the winter's winds
had seized themselves into the glass.
fingers like leafic fingers –
And the silence: you -
you would never know that silence:
You struggle toward the word,
but it dashes thru time, spinning, and blurring;
- and, I cant. I try though:
I shove my hand into the Nothing Flower.
It’s sort of like the difference
between eating glass powder,
or touching a red rose to a nipple:
it erecting, it massing:
And you recall, the surprise in dead eyes.


The word waits in the unseen dark.



Me saying once I couldn't be bothered typing up my poems - Jack Ross recalling well like Joyce and feeding this (failing of mine?) this into a (or one part of a) poem of his in Brief:

"A thousand pounded years" - very clever - a great line...

"Knowledge or Certainty"


"...These pictures do not so much fix the face as explore it; that the artist...as if by touch; each line...strengthens the picture but never makes it final. We accept that as the method of the artist...

...But what physics has done is to show that it is the only method to knowledge. There is no absolute knowledge. And those who claim it, whether they are scientists or dogmatists open the door to tragedy. All information is imperfect. We have to treat it with humility. That is the human condition; and that is what quantum physics says. I mean that literally.
eternal sections golden dark eye light black light light black eternal red sections eternal eyelight thinking into black light white light light eternal eternal quia sections who know dark light white eternal dark eye golden black light sections sections eye light light red green black light sections sections eye light light red green scream section perpendicular dark redicular dark bipedal forked light red who golden sections green light green gold black quia sections old dark old gold black black black white ablaze sections quiver final black lip dark eternal lip light black green perpendicular sections white aristotelian greenluck eye bread black mount sea black eye mount red mane all eye bespeak beating sections quia unconnected blackfinal eternal white white eternal perpendicular who


Jack the NZ James Joyce? - except he didn't live most of his life in penury and cadging off his brother etc! And his petty bourgeois father an alcoholic who refused to work as he felt mere workers were beneath

him as he had once owned property etc or had had a "better position" - he (James J) one himself virtually (drinking every day till he died of an ulcerated duodenum and always having eye ops and so on ... but Jack very erudite (if "evil" - [joke]) and talented like Joyce...


..................................writing - strange - all of us


tertius - staying in state of mystery - not known! Nothing being known!


tertius said...
Commenting on the 'search' for democratic values in all fields...the cant. tales...eliots wasteland...parsivals quest...malory...milton...dante... the search and the redemptions...timeless literature going beyond words...

tertius said...
Speaking of mysteries read some wild theories about shakespeare being a construct of various authors including marlowe... also conjecture surrounds the early death of edgar allan poe the father of the modern crime novel...

tertius said...
I wasnt aware of anything about joyces' background... your insights give me the drive to write 'in' poetry...I can recall reading that blake never travelled away from his village (can u confirm?)...was astounded that his imaginations 'travelled as if thru space' to me.

tertius said...
Comments on Britain n ire brought me to churchill and his greatness in poltical terms as he had his faults (gallipoli) but was in a horrendous situation between degaul n the free french, the russians and the americans who bled britain dry in the first half of the 20th cent.

tertius said...
With the complexities of america they are the 'devil you know not the devil you dont' I know that is simplistic, but my readings about america from the 1950s to watergate seem to suggest that the nation is a series of military, economic monopolies (see the federal reserve act) and doesnt act like a state democracy (modern france more so)

tertius said...
Finally reading about the occult the 'great beast' Alaester Crowley,(english leader of demonic church i think?) is reported to have advised churchill on the occult symbolism that the german nazis were obsessed with,the power of the swastika(eastern symbol of infinity..not 100% sure of its meaning)could only be defeated by the reverse v sign.....the front v sign came about by english archers showing the sign originally with the thumb to the french around agincourt times circa 1415 after the french passed laws to cut off those three fingers if archers were captured during war ha!


...............that ring, recalling the dying generation’s that all, all neglect all, and the dark and clapping coat a-stick, & such arms in arms, and the joyful bitter hope of gold, beat into music: free in the holy fire outside desire or any gyre, keeping awake….these strange sounds that ring from those who live and have learnt to sing…

tertius said...
That was the reference to chaucer and his tales being a national inspiration to england at a time when france dominated the state n church. And lastly to refer to the only english pope adrian iv who was installed by the powerful plantagenent king henry 2and his french wife eleanor of aquataine(parents of richard the lionheart)...very much around the crusader days when knightly orders were growing in influence( knights templar..forerunners of the freemasons) Pope adrian issued a papal bull giving england or henry dominion over the unruly heathen irish arter the irish king of leinster summoned an army of english mercenaries to quell the rest of country
with so many syndromes, diseases, shootings, atrocious accidents, massacres: in fact, the summated enbloodment? Eh?! Hmm!?!

Words are thus evolved: or invented ‘in sudden throat’, for evil or ‘good’ occasion. (Evil vile and virid (yet red yellow bright) amphispbaena sleep about as if in the dreams of La Tentation de St. Antoine …)
all this said, and, if acknowledged – let us note – those of us who are alive – how the sky is so blue, and the shrieking has subsided.

tertius said...
The king of england ruled eng,wales,irelan,n half of france but not scotland(later on) thus the saying get away 'scot free' Chaucer came along at a time when england needed to assert its own identity free from france and thru its language....and this we see in other countries thats why the local literature in your own work should not be underestimated as being uniquely 'kiwi' or 'maori' is something i hope we never lose ,dont stop writing in whatever form it takes...will give you a break for now. RT NZ POET adieu old friend...


each line...strengthens the picture but never makes it final. We accept that as the method of the artist...

...But what physics has done is to show that it is the only method to knowledge. There is no absolute knowledge. And those who claim it, whether they are scientists or dogmatists open the door to tragedy. All information is imperfect_______________________________________

C'mon, mate, have some self-respect: do Live or do you EXIST?

You fucking cunt.


In the beginning,
there was only Te Kore,
the great void