“I used to care. Now I take a pill for that.”

“People are trained—and massive efforts go into this—people are trained to perceive their identity and their aspirations and their value as people in terms of the things they amass. Nothing else. And in terms of yourself, not anyone else… a principle they want to drive out of people’s heads—namely, that you care about somebody else. That’s a dangerous sentiment.”

WS: A lot of people feel that hope for humanity lies not so much in the progress of rationality but rather in the possibility that more people will fall under the influence of moral principles or moral codes, such as the ethical systems developed by various religions. After all, if everyone were seriously committed to moral ideals, then…

NC: Moral codes…you can find things in the traditional religions that are very benign and decent and wonderful and so on, but I mean, the Bible is probably the most genocidal book in the literary canon. The God of the Bible—not only did he order His chosen to carry out literal genocide—I mean, wipe out every Amalekite to the last man, woman, and child, and, you know, donkey and so on, because hundreds of years ago they got in your way when you were trying to cross the desert—not only did He do things like that, but, after all, the God of the Bible was ready to destroy every living creature on earth because some humans irritated Him. That’s the story of Noah. I mean, that’s beyond genocide—you don’t know how to describe this creature. Somebody offended Him, and He was going to destroy every living thing on earth? And then He was talked into allowing two of each species to stay alive—that’s supposed to be gentle and wonderful?

WS: Hmm…if moral codes themselves can’t be relied upon, it’s hard to know what to cling to if we want to avoid falling into moral nightmares…In a way, it seems to be simply our obsessive need to have a high opinion of ourselves that leads us repeatedly into idiotic thinking. If our vestigial rationality detects a conflict between our actions and our principles—well, we don’t want to change our actions, and it’s embarrassing to change our principles, so we wield the blowtorch against our rationality, bending it till it’s willing to say that our principles and actions are well-aligned. We’re prisoners of self-love.

NC: We understand the crimes of others but can’t understand our own.

WALLACE SHAWN in conversation with NOAM CHOMSKY originally appeared in Shawn’s Final Edition, v. 1, no. 1 – 2004 – 88 pages.

Photo: Oh Lord, won’t you buy me … originally uploaded by Netream on flickr

Enticer

Being enticed

Verhaßt ist mir das Folgen und das Führen.
Gehorchen? Nein! Und aber nein—Regieren!
Wer sich nicht schrecklich ist, macht niemand Schrecken:
Und nur wer Schrecken macht, kann andre führen.
Verhaßt ist mirs schon, selber mich zu führen!
Ich liebe es, gleich Wald- und Meerestieren,
mich für ein gutes Weilchen zu verlieren,
in holder Irrnis grüblerisch zu hocken,
von ferne her mich endlich heimzulocken,
mich selber zu mir selber—zu verführen.

I detest following, but also leading.
To obey? Never! And just as bad—to govern!
He who wishes not to be terrified, will summon no terror for others:
Yet only he who peddles fear can lead others.
I even detest having to lead myself!
Like the creatures of the forest and the sea, I love
To lose myself for a while
In meek error thoughtfully to cower
Drawn home at length by distant things
Being enticed by myself to my Self.

FRIEDRICH NIETZSCHE, Der Einsame (ca. 1882) in Gedichte und Sprüche p. 75 (1908)(S.H. transl.)

Nietzsche—The Lonely One (Harper’s)
Artist: Scooter LaForge, “Pee Bear”, 2009. Exclusively @ EVB

boy rewarded

DSCF3787, originally uploaded by RIXCO PHOTO PARIS.

boy awaits

Photo: cody, 3 / paulmorristim, flickr

Thing shining

When you cannot go further

It is time to go back and wrest

Out of failure some

Thing shining.

DAVID SCHUBERT, from “No Finis”

Photos: Kirby. Lighting: Studio Pazo

A Short Essay on Poetry

What I see as poetry is a sample of the human scene, its incurable acute melancholia redeemed only by affection.

A poet who observes his own poetry ends up, in spite of it, by finding nothing to observe, just as a man who pays too much attention to the way he walks, finds his legs walking off from under him. Nevertheless, poets must sometimes look at themselves in order to remember what they are risking. What I see as poetry is a sample of the human scene, its incurable acute melancholia redeemed only by affection. This sample of endurance is innocent and gay: the music of the vowel and consonant is the happy-go-lucky echo of time itself. Without this music there is simply no poem. It borrows further gayety by contrast with the burden it carries—for this exquisite lilt, this dance of sound, must be married to a responsible intelligence before there can occur the poem. Naturally, they are one: meanings and music, metaphor and thought. In the course of poetry’s career, perhaps new awarenesses are discovered, really new awarenesses and not verbal combinations brought together in any old way. This rather unimportant novelty is sometimes a play of possibility and sometimes a genuinely new insight: like Tristram Shandy, they add something to this Fragment of Life.

DAVID SCHUBERT, A Short Essay on Poetry

Photo: james roscoe, cock worship – paulmorristim on flickr

Masculine

Look out

In the morning, when you look out your window, what you are seeing will not be the future.

It won’t?

It won’t. And for that you should be extremely grateful.

SINA QUEYRAS, from “A Memorable Fancy” in Expressway. Toronto : Couch House, 2009.

Photo: Kirby, I live in this place. (2009)

Sublime