Tuesday, May 28, 2013


"He is not less in little things -- 
for these little things are to be measured
not by their own greatness
(which does not exist),
but by the wisdom of their Designer."

Augustine of Hippo
The City of God, XI.22

Thursday, May 23, 2013

a crack at my own psalm

Oh LORD. Is this purgatory? Tell me. No... you don't owe me that. You are more distant from me than the most disloyal friend, yet you flow out of this pen; you emergeth from my lamp this dark night; you project my own vision. You are throughout, yet wrapping your justice in my skin. Not alone I am. My work flickers; yours sets ice ablaze. Your end is a sloth's dream. Were you ever curious? Did you ever self-deceive? You knew the measure of creation's dark – did you tell no one? or did your apostate sneer at your avow, and call you a guesser? For what? For what does the most proud one seeketh the limit of ignorance? Ah. I see: He wanted the void to prove his character – now he begs the blind to admire him. He flirts the lost as a drunk comedian. And what a set he's having, this very night with his yearling prey. How? I say. With a clock? A whistle? God, a kiss? LORD, my fellows run! They careen and bounce from a mangled wreck, and seek to spoil a virgin, or murder a dandelion. Already dead, loving it, they cast not a shadow but by their own hate. A moth itches them; it loveth light more than they. They don a yoke and chains under the sun; they name the sun chairman. Buffoons! They purchase filth with their stone words. The temple of the father's tongue is abandoned. One upon another draw bows of derision; to kill all truth as if you were not Truth. You catch their arrows, of conceit and poison, with two fingers, every which-way they shoot, and turn the missiles to plague. I smell it. I sweat it. I eat it. But I will call you my Father and rest on the vine of green and dew. May I breathe the eternity of a never-ending seventh chapter, a praise and a swashbuckling and a howling chorus of the north, in the deepest crack of the most brilliant dawn; a righteous adventure of vision, sojourn and friendship of excellent wild. The ghettos will be moss. The prisons will be mangroves. The towers of fear will be chimneys for termites. Nature will seize nature. Order will seize order. Law will seize law. Decay and vigor shall wed and be faithful. May you preside; Amen. The conquest of the lie shall complete itself in the thundering echoes of the Word, betraying the bounds of zero to the devils who sought, and led captives, to steal the worthless treasure within its pit. Glory will see no summit, and no creature will fear the drop. Trust will be the palm of your hand. Knowledge will be but love, and honour, and tales of the chivalrous of the dust road. Crags of the Old World shall sunder up fountains of wax under bonfires of pine; Creation shall dance free all around. And the New shall imagine and remember the birth of the deep as a grandfather tortoise. Rain shall find not a rebel on earth – war? a joke. Weapons shall be verse. Honesty will be its own preacher, and no child will despair of a home, nor a companion. Eyes will murder teeth in the theatre. The kingdom will laugh, be filled, blessed and rejoicing in sympathy, comforted in their exhilaration and tears of mirth. No beauty will be denied. The massive and the dwarfish, the vast and the dense, the king and the pawn and the games of brotherhood will have their place in the Book. Villains will be funny; heroes wily. Art shall assault with color or nothing. Fantasies shall have no fear in them and not one barrier. Ballads will be contemplative like unto silence in winter. Observance and pace on a walk will find balance. Bold will not offend; happy shall wander. Math shall be everything superficial. Surprise shall be history; anticipation shall be the science. Christ was the journeyman to my heart becoming; so was he ever: May He clue what he discovered, and command my mystery. Your grace be with me. Amen.

Giambattista Tiepolo [1696-1770]

Wednesday, May 22, 2013


[dear] ___,

i appreciate your thoughtful and sincere attempt to advise me on my conduct with relations. however, i have already pointed out to you that i had already apologized to R___ for what happened 4 years ago over and over and over again. and i noticed a misinterpretation in your analysis of what i emailed to R___ initially the other day which i paraphrased to you. you said:

"He didn't want to think about you and he didn't know what to say to you when he did think about it."

that was not the acquittal of R___ that i offered him. rather, i said that he was having problems applying his native language, 1, and 2: he wasn't thinking about his OWN feelings much at all (and subtextually i implied that this went for his other relations).

this is just silliness to talk on and on about childish emotional motives or fears that mature adults should be able to get over. the real issue is (1) cultural narcotism, and (2) the modern degeneration/erosion of the English language. it's very simple. and no, i do not understand why people would flush the most sacred element of their ancestral heritage -- their native language -- down the toilet. and no, no, no: i see NO EXCUSE for it and it DISGUSTS me. when people are shamelessly ineloquent and proudly speak like dope-shooters ["chill out, man"] as a response to plain English with unmisinterpretable meaning, it fries my brain and baits me. [This author had responded to R___'s "chill" command with a string of obscenities -- which yet illuminated nevertheless(!).] well, oh well.

******? well, guess what? i still think less of her to this day for calling my mortal, soulful expression of merely  "longing for love" -- she called it "thinking too much" and "philosophy"! that was grossly offensive -- black. frankly, it was tantamount to blasphemy.

if people want my respect, then they ought to speak English. plain and simple. that is NOT a tall order, and whoever thinks it is is a sell-out and can go to hell and find some enlightenment there.

finally, R___ IS INDEED OFF THE HOOK. he has become both a worm and a monster. i want nothing to do with him. the man is dangerous and poisonous to one's basic self-respect.

NOW, AS FOR US: i repeat, i am very sorry about the pain i have caused you, ___. anytime you want to discuss your personal, residual demons concerning our past affairs, i am available.

take care. cincinnati prevails.

And if thy brother
be waxen poor,
and fallen in decay with thee;
then thou shalt relieve him:
yea, though he be a stranger, or a sojourner;
that he may live with thee.

Take thou no usury of him,
or increase:
but fear thy God;
that thy brother may live with thee.

Thou shalt not
give him thy money upon interest,
nor lend him
thy victuals for increase.

I am the LORD your God,
which brought you forth out of the land of Egypt,
to give you the land of Canaan,
and to be your God.

Leviticus 25:35-38
rug blueprint


He that overcometh
shall inherit all things;
and I will be his God,
and he shall be my son.

But the fearful,
and unbelieving,
and the abominable,
and murderers,
and whoremongers,
and sorcerers,
and idolaters,
and all liars,
shall have their part in the lake
which burneth with fire and brimstone:
which is the second death.

Revelation 21:7-8

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Don't you know?
that it's true
that for me
and for you:
the world is a ghetto?

War, 1972