Monday, April 14, 2014

A Foot Tapping in Thyme

…there is only the unattended
Moment, the moment in and out of time,
The distraction fit, lost in a shaft of sunlight,
The wild thyme unseen, or the winter lightening
Or the waterfall, or music heard so deeply
That it is not heard at all, but you are the music
While the music lasts.
T.S. Eliot, "The Dry Salvages"

Friday, April 11, 2014

Sunday, April 6, 2014

The Patriot's Gamble

"We must, indeed, all hang together, or most assuredly we shall all hang separately."
- Benjamin Franklin, In the Continental Congress just before signing the Declaration of Independence (1776).

Friday, April 4, 2014

Unseen but not Unsighted

With eyes closed
You light up within
You are blind stone

Night after night I carve you
With eyes closed
You are frank stone

We have become enormous
Just knowing each other
With eyes closed
- Octavio Paz

Wednesday, April 2, 2014

America 2.0

In his Notes Towards a Definition of Culture, T S Eliot remarked that there are moments when the only choice is the one between heresy and non-belief, when the only way to keep a religion alive is to perform a sectarian split from its main corpse.
Liberalism. . . tends to release energy rather than accumulate it, to relax, rather than to fortify. It is a movement not so much defined by its end, as by its starting point; away from, rather than towards, something definite. Our point of departure is more real to us than our destination; and the destination is likely to present a very different picture when arrived at, from the vaguer image formed in imagination. By destroying traditional social habits of the people, by dissolving their natural collective consciousness into individual constituents, by licensing the opinions of the most foolish, by substituting instruction for education, by encouraging cleverness rather than wisdom, the upstart rather than the qualified, by fostering a notion of getting on to which the alternative is a hopeless apathy, Liberalism can prepare the way for that which is its own negative: the artificial, mechanized or brutalised control which is a desperate remedy for its chaos.
- T.S. Eliot (CC, 12)