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It is meta meta... a bunch of crap.: .posted by ben on Oct 20 at 01:26





stupid thought: .posted by ben on Oct 19 at 23:37

You can buy the correspondance of Denise Levertov and William Carlos Williams or Edmund Burke and Mary Wollstonecraft (brief and angry). But, when will you be able to buy the emails of Gates to AOL or Collin to those who follow his school of thought?


And ye shall know the math, and the math shall make you free.: .posted by ben on Oct 19 at 23:23

Some poor girl was blathering on to me about system theory... which got me going about math... which devolved into beauty... which devolved into pro canon and anti Naropa sentiments.

Math is Truth.
Truth is Beauty.

I am not sure if the relationship is transitive.

The problem is she didn't really know anything about system theory. It was that ubiquitous chaos is Zen, I've heard of Gleick, but not Mandelbrot, I'm a happy Naropa Buddhist who had sex more in the last 2 weeks than you will in the rest of your life approach.

She had a hell of a time wrapping her head around this one:

Truth => Beauty
Beauty !=> Truth

Several times she believed I was caught in some sort of nasty contradiction. In fact it was a failure on her part to understand the difference between if and iff. If anyone was listening, they must have found the conversation hilarious... jumping all over philosophy, Cartesian this and Kantian that with vague responses about utilitarianism or stunned silence. She kept saying beauty is utilitarian, but I don't imagine she meant it as most would parse that.

She said things that aren't useful should not be pursued. It reminds me of the Nazis.

The children need more math. Come back to math Seth! The children need you.


I photograph my roses at night.: .posted by ben on Oct 19 at 23:21




The guy with glasses is an evangelical.: .posted by ben on Oct 19 at 20:26

I have another midterm on Wednesday. The teacher encouraged us to not bother coming to class on Monday. For some reason, that reads in my mind as an inclination to go... despite the five hour wait between one class and the next. I need to stop being contrary.

There is no book by Carl Sandburg on learning to read French literature. A book on the subject was written by some prominent poet, but I can't remember who. I can picture the cover. It's white, with blue writing. It's not Thomas, Frost, or Bly. It's one of their ilk though... recent white male poets, probably American. Anyone know?


keeping the blood-garlic level high: .posted by ben on Oct 19 at 18:02






My soapbox gets more hits than yours.: .posted by ben on Oct 19 at 14:35

It is often more expedient to omit certain truths to allow some greater truth to be understood. Expedience is not my aim.

People often rise to power by following the above axiom, but they inevitably fall. Meanwhile, proponents of the entire truth trundle along, slowly gaining influence. However, when one liar falls, they are immediately replaced by another that has been waiting in the ranks for such an occasion. The result is that complete honesty is rare in positions of power.

While Franklin may have been correct in writing that "[t]hey that can give up essential liberty to obtain a little temporary safety deserve neither liberty nor safety," the question is moot. Any just regime will be forced to grant such rights irregardless of personal merit to ensure no meritous individual is punished.

It is not enough to ensure that only those deserving punishment are justly punished... whatever that may mean. As long as there is punishment, and the fear of it, we are all oppressed. An individual cannot suffer without an adverse impact on society as a whole.

This is essentially a reiteration of Jefferson's claim that eternal vigilance is the price of freedom. If we ever had it, that vigilance is gone. Otherwise, the people we allow to power would be more respectable.

As comforting as it might be to claim that the fault is somewhere in the system, this cannot be entirely the case. The fault is apathy, sloth, and stupidity. Perhaps if voter turnout were respectable, it might be possible to believe otherwise.


vindicate my rights: .posted by ben on Oct 19 at 13:51

The "Word is Out Women's Bookstore" has decided to replace the unprofitable shoe store on 10th street. Judging from the display, it's really a feminist bookstore. A women's bookstore would have more novels, and fewer bitter political tracts on the nature of oppression.

What annoys me fundamentally though is that women's bookstores should not exist... It's sexist. Now, if this were a feminist bookstore in title, I might feel more comfortable browsing. Though, being a member of the evil sex, I don't suppose that they intend me to be comfortable in their store. I'm scared to go in there.


Tenochtitlan: .posted by ben on Oct 19 at 13:39

The sun ominously changed inclination forcing me to hide my bed in a corner of my room. The past few weeks I have been woken up by my face baking in the sun. Today I slept longer, but was woken up by my entire body baking in the oppressive heat of my room.

Worse, the computer room is at least 10 degrees warmer. The dust bunnies living inside tom are going to start on fire.

I'm going to buy a Carl Sandburg book on how to read French... sometime.


could be 5 years ago: .posted by ben on Oct 19 at 01:30







vorticist art: .posted by ben on Oct 19 at 01:28

Three years ago in Paris I got out of a "metro" train at La Concorde, and saw suddenly a beautiful face, and then another and another, and then a beautiful child’s face, and then another beautiful woman, and I tried all that day to find words for what this had meant to me, and I could not find any words that seemed to me worthy, or as lovely as that sudden emotion. And that evening, as I went home along the Rue Raynouard, I was still trying and I found, suddenly, the expression. I do not mean that I found words, but there came an equation . . . not in speech, but in little splotches of colour. It was just that - a "pattern," or hardly a pattern, if by "pattern" you mean something with a "repeat" in it. But it was a word, the beginning, for me, of a language in colour. I do not mean that I was unfamiliar with the kindergarten stories about colours being like tones in music. I think that sort of thing is nonsense. If you try to make notes permanently correspond with particular colours, it is like tying narrow meanings to symbols.

- Ezra Pound, Gaudier-Brzeska, 1916

bear hat: .posted by ben on Oct 19 at 01:28




vampyre support group: .posted by ben on Oct 18 at 19:35

I found my terracotta garlic cooking thing. Then I ate about 10 cloves of garlic. I feel strange now.


international brotherhood of lying fickle males: .posted by ben on Oct 18 at 19:35






 

 

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