~ Boots, strapped...trapped!
Twittering One
_________________________________________
Just More Nonesuch
~ A Morning Wood Serious Series
_________________________________________
The Prequel ~
“I’ve Fallen”
* ~ *
_________________________________________
“The Bootstraps * Yes, Pulling ~
But O! My Leg Needs a Hand
Up”
_________________________________________
The Sequel ~
“No, Will Not.
Do It Yourself”
* ~ *
_________________________________________
A Morning Wood
“Do It for Mummies”
Infinite Mindless Series
*
Yes ~
A Morning Wood Misconstruction
_________________________________________
A Morning Wood Educational Syllabae
[O, Something stings my eye…]
_________________________________________
* Dogging Arts * Fogging Minds * It’s a Star *
_________________________________________
*
_______
Blog, or dog? Who knows.
But if you see my lost pup, please ping me!
http://journals.aol.com/virginiaz/DreamingofLeonardo
Double-A
> _________________________________________
> * Dogging Arts * Fogging Minds * It's a Star *
> _________________________________________
> *
> _______
> Blog, or dog? Who knows.
> But if you see my lost pup, please ping me!
> http://journals.aol.com/virginiaz/DreamingofLeonardo
I slept fitfully, waking to each thunder and quake.
I arose in despair, up early before dawn.
The gloom permeated my soul and my being.
How long? Oh how long would I survive?
The house shook and rattled my kettles.
Not much left now, no video or audio communications.
I stumbled about in the dark, a rat in a hole.
No hope in this place, no saving grace.
I walked to the door and opened it wide.
I looked up at a sky filled with comets,
Yes, and shooting stars all around
With bolloids thundering and shaking the ground.
Above all the death star Nemesis shone
Casting its blood red light upon the snow!
There was nothing at all that could be done.
Mankind's era was at its ultimate end.
"Was there any meaning?" I asked the Universe?
"All of mankind's dreams, aspirations, and hopes,
All of humanity's experience, its very existence,
Was all of this for nothing at all?"
Another meteor thundering just overhead
And crashing nearby was the Universe's only reply.
Uncaring, unfeeling, mindless, yet methodical,
The Universe's heavy bombardment, ceaseless!
Double-A
Twittering One
Only reply.”
~ Double-A
“Have you tried the University Library?
Say, Widener, Loeb, or Houghton
Might know. Or just ask ~
Amory! Come on down, you roaring camper
Vamp. The Sampler Samples Your Laundry Hamper.
Meanwhile ~ Know!
The Fogg’s amphora’s story’s a fake,
Don’t you know? A Gorey tail snakes
Round that Attic vessel, a cracked bellow leaks
Vino from this red-clay tumbler.
Call The Connoisseur!”
~ Moi
Twittering One
Round that Attic vessel, a cracked bellow leaks
Vino from this red-clay tumbler.
Call The Connoisseur!”
~ Moi
“And crashing nearby was the Universe’s only reply.
Uncaring, unfeeling, mindless, yet methodical,
The Universe’s heavy bombardment, ceaseless!”
~ Double-A
“What I meant to say ~
Mean [Just see: I Ching] not, method so.
Or just meander,
Amble, perambulate, or percolate.
Got café? I got croissant.”
Double-A
Twittering One wrote:
[snip]
> Come on down, you roaring camper
> Vamp.
>
[snip]
>
Be right there!
Double-A
Twittering One
Uncaring, unfeeling, mindless, yet methodical,
The Universe’s heavy bombardment, ceaseless!”
~ Double-A
“What I meant to say ~
Mean [Just see: I Ching] not, method so.
Or just meander,
Amble, perambulate, or percolate.
Got café? I got croissant.”
~ Moi
Or just see ~ Mr.
Hans-Georg Gadamer, from whom now
We hear a “Truth
And Method” [p. 89] ~
“In order to do justice
To the experience of art
We began with the criticism of the aesthetic consciousness.”
Yes, indeed. I remember well.
What hell!
“The experience of art acknowledges
That it cannot present the perfect truth
Of what it experiences
In terms of final knowledge.”
You betcha!
O I hear they confirmed Ms.
Condoleica!
“Here there is no absolute progress
And no final exhaustion
Of what lies in a work of art.”
But, me, O so tired…
And O, I need a paying job, if only hired.
“The experience of art
Knows this of itself.”
But, where’s Elf?
That fancy prancer?
Has he escaped with Merlot,
That giddy grape and neuromancer?
“At the same time it is necessary
Not simply to accept what the aesthetic consciousness
Considers to be its experience.”
So, respectfully, I do ask ~
What do we do, who rules class?
“For it considers it, as we say,
In the final analysis as the discontinuity
Of experiences.”
You mean, like, say,
A discontinuous series?
No matter. That’s fine. Seen my Furries?
“But we have found this to be unacceptable.
We do not, then, ask
The experience of art to tell us how
It thinks of itself,
But what it is in truth and its truth is,
Even if it does not know what it is
And cannot say what it knows ~”
O, just so
You know ~ Heidegger called, yes, he asked me
What metaphysics is. I said,
I don’t know. To which he replied,
Just see ~
“In contrast to what it
Thinks itself to be!”
O, sure. What ~
Ever.
*
In the Wakeful Hollow’s Ladies Room,
Yes, that Dutch Dyke’s Loo, the women come and go,
Fauning over Leonardo…
*
Double-A
Twittering One wrote:
[snip]
>
> You betcha!
> O I hear they confirmed Ms.
> Condoleica!
>
But not before a stern tongue-lashing by the Witch of the West!
Double-A
Twittering One
~ Double-A
O, sounds heavenly...