CXLI
When I wake up early in the morning
Lift my head, I’m still yawning
When I’m in the middle of a dream
Stay in bed, float upstream
Please, don’t wake me, no, don’t shake me
Leave me where I am, I’m only sleeping
Everybody seems to think I’m lazy
I don’t mind, I think they’re crazy
Running everywhere at such a speed
Till they find there’s no need
Please, don’t spoil my day, I’m miles away
And after all I’m only sleeping
Keeping an eye on the world going by my window
Taking my time
Lying there and staring at the ceiling
Waiting for a sleepy feeling
Please, don’t spoil my day, I’m miles away
And after all I’m only sleeping
Keeping alive on the world going by my window
Taking my time
When I wake up early in the morning
Lift my head, I’m still yawning
When I’m in the middle of a dream
Stay in bed, float upstream
Please, don’t wake me, no, don’t shake me
Leave me where I am, I’m only sleeping…
Wrote Lennon once, upstream
Crouching circle, hidden square
Time and qi
What kind of space are we in when we say “time”?
From the root, nature moves my tip
What is your history, or anyone else’s but the natural continuing to unfold?
On May 8, 2016, a few days after the death of Daniel Berrigan, the New York Times, newspaper of the inexplicable,publishes the obituary of an anti-war activist who died in March, 2009.
“A Green Beret master sergeant who came home from Vietnam a disillusioned hero in 1965 and became a leading early opponent of the war, died in the obscurity of a small Midwestern town seven years ago, an all-but-forgotten soldier.”
Duncan became, however briefly, an iconic figure when he appeared on the February, 1966 cover of Ramparts magazine in full Green Beret regalia under the headline “I quit!”
His striking appearance – he was the very model of a modern master sergeant – along with the content of the article inside, wherein he recounted the murders, torture and atrocities he had witnessed in his tour of duty, became one of your many wake-up calls.
After resigning from the military, Duncan became regular participant at anti-war protests of all kinds. The effectiveness of his focused and articulate anti-war rap was heightened all the more by his authenticity as a card-carrying non-leftist. “I don’t think Vietnam will be better off under Ho’s brand of communism, but it’s not for me or my government to decide. That decision is for the Vietnamese. I also know that we have allowed the creation of a military monster that will lie to our elected officials and that both of them will lie to the American people.”
Are you going where you’re looking?
FIS: Fragmented Intentionality Syndrome
The things they parried
Once upon a Chase ATM…
Sacrifices made by…
Which is ambiguous. Sacrifices of themselves? Or others? ¿O los dos?
Buoy, you got to carry that weight…
Put too fine a point on beauty and she will impale you.
As the Greeks discovered.
And you’ll find too, through reason, the magic formula for turning flesh to stone, gold to lead. Dead as in Daedalus.
Your grandfather Meyer, who was born in Poland, loved to sing a song, while scrambling eggs or doing some other task: For we’ll all be merry, drinking whisky, wine and sherry…
Had he spent time in England before living and starting a family in France? Anyone who could have answered that question is gone now. Certainly he spoke English with an English accent.
At the age of seven or so, you would not have understood the meaning of Coronation Day, nor known that Meyer’s song was popular in Britain, in 1902, in anticipation of Edward VII’s accession to the throne. Nor that it was best sung, as you heard it, nearly sixty years later, in a Cockney accent.
A pimped nerve
A sign on the side of a posh building: Savant’s Entrance
Cockeyed opportunist
If a Golden Retriever serves as a seeing-eye dog, can one say it is as case of the blond leading the blind?
A short walk down Simple Truth Street
Sturm und Drumpf
Entering into the space of pedagogy one finds…
Fine, find and refined
How do you separate inner and outer?
You don’t. Because, in actuality, you can’t
Gente de La Zone. Gente en La Zone.
No es lo mismo. ¡Qué diferencia haca que una preposición!
Or, as Disney’s Mouse once said: “I squeak from experience.”
I was a vestigial vestige for…
Footprint…
My lordy doth pretext too much
Little by little
Day by day
In a quotidian sort of way
You return to the scene
Of your every crime
And little by little find
That what is yours
Is also mine
And some are riddled
Others rhyme
I was waiting for Godot
When Lefty showed
My man, my man
Twenty-five dollars in his hand
One day late and a dollar short
First thing they tell you is you always have to wait
Go on, go on
Two bricks shy of a load
Who’s counting now?
Reluctantly complying with newly upheld feral legislation, squads of pigeons begin to peck the PIGEONS ONLY – NO LONG PIGS ALLOWED signs into illegibility. Similarly, gangs of seres humanos, unused to opposing their thumbs to anything but keypads struggle, near heroically, to unscrew the NO PIGEONS – LONG PIGS ONLY signs.
Great resentment abounds on all sides. For now no one feels “safe” an more. And nowhere, nowhere, could any member of any species find even a few scraps of material with which to weave a bond of love.
NYMe. NYU.
I believe that every individual should have a shot at economic opportunity. That’s why I founded the JWCC, the Jobs for War Criminals Corps…
It’s a thin lime between tonic and gin
Social promotion?
Of course. Is there another kind?
Reality accommodates all realities
Joisey tomatoes
It’s the symbol things that count
The (y)east is (b)re(a)d
Sort of
Digital is the opiate of the…
Every place and every moment in this digicorporate world becomes a stage set upon which to demonstrate one’s full bourgeois compliance
I was a heedless falcon in the widening gyre
Portrait of a moment
Ach, ha’ ye read James Henry’s Portrait of a Laddie?
Now, previously you stated that on the evening of the 23rd, you went to a dance, is that correct?
And what was your purpose there?
I was looking for romance.
And… who did you see at the dance?
I saw Barbara Ann.
And what did you think when you saw her?
Objection! Counsel is leading the witness.
Overruled.
Thank you, your honor. So when you saw her, what did you think?
I thought I’d take a chance.
[An outburst of laughter from the courtroom. The judge taps his gavel for silence]
Is that the same Barbara Ann, the plaintiff in this case who is sitting there?
[Indicates the plaintiff]
Yes, she got me rockin’ and a-rollin’ –
That’s enough, the witness is dismissed your Honor.
I tried Peggy Sue, tried Peggy Sue…
[Judge, angrily, to witness] I see no Peggy Sue in this indictment, and if anyone is to try her, it will be this court and not yourself! You may step down…
A grain of truth versus a bushel of falsehood. Compare Van Dyke’s pencil sketch of François Langlois playing a musette (c. 1740) with the oil portrait of the purportedly same subject. Come in closer, and you’ll see what I mean.
Happenchance
Lost to All Hope the Brig: title of a painting by J.M.W. Turner
So who is this Ana Strophy and what’s her game?
A survey of Van Dyke’s portraits shows that nearly all of them take the form of a triad. In other words, they are three portraits, two hands and a face set in juxtaposition.
The nature of the individual portrayed lies in the both the partiular qualities as well as the dynamic tension (the Chinese call it shi) among these three constituent elements.
Conventional mugshots and many other portraits exclude the hands, which have traditionally been seen as reliable signifiers of character and indicators of fate.