History, materialism, monism, positivism,and all the "isms" of this world are old and rusty tools which i don't need or mind anymore. My principle is life, my end is death. I wish to live my life intensely for to embrace my life tragically.
You are waiting for the revolution? My own began a long time ago! When you will be ready (God, what an endless wait!) I won't mind going along with you for awhile. But when you'll stop, I shall continue on my insane and triumphal way toward the great and sublime conquest of the nothing!
Any society that you build will have its limits. And outside the limits of any society the unruly and heroic tramps will wander, with their wild & virgin thoughts--they who cannot live without planning ever new and dreadful bursts of rebellion!
I shall be among them!
And after me, as before me, there will be those saying to their fellows: "So turn to yourselves rather than to your Gods or to your idols. Find what hides in yourselves; bring it to light; show yourselves!"
Because every person; who, searching his own inwardness, extracts what was mysteriously hidden therein; is a shadow eclipsing any form of society which can exist under the sun!
All societies tremble when the scornful aristocracy of the tramps, the inaccessibles, the uniques, the rulers over the ideal, and the conquerors of the nothing resolutely advances.
So, come on iconoclasts, forward!
"Already the foreboding sky grows dark and silent!"
---Renzo Novatore
Arcola, January, 1920
Saturday, April 10, 2010
Sunday, April 4, 2010
Thursday, March 25, 2010
ECCLESIASTES 11:1
We must cast our bread
Upon the waters, as the
Ancient preacher said,
Trusting that it may
Amply be restored to us
After many a day.
That old metaphor,
Drawn from rice farming on the
River's flooded shore,
Helps us to believe
That it's no great sin to give,
Hoping to receive.
Therefore I shall throw
Broken bread, this sullen day,
Out across the snow,
Betting crust and crumb
That birds will gather, and that
One more spring will come.
---Richard Wilbur
Upon the waters, as the
Ancient preacher said,
Trusting that it may
Amply be restored to us
After many a day.
That old metaphor,
Drawn from rice farming on the
River's flooded shore,
Helps us to believe
That it's no great sin to give,
Hoping to receive.
Therefore I shall throw
Broken bread, this sullen day,
Out across the snow,
Betting crust and crumb
That birds will gather, and that
One more spring will come.
---Richard Wilbur
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Monday, March 22, 2010
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