I am mainly writing this entry to record yet another "pun", or idea for a poem, or whatever. Haven't the clarity (or lack of) to write something on it just yet, just the seedling of a thought.
The heart organ consists, basically, of two pumps, two systems of circulation, one to collect "stale" de-oxygenated blood from the body and pump it to the lungs, and the other to collect "fresh" oxygenated blood from the lungs and pump it out to the body. You might say that the heart is "never one but two," it is always both the burden of the old and the push for the new. But this fundamental dualism aside, let's look at the problem of heart murmurs.
A heart murmur is an often faint, sometimes distinct "deviation" from the normal lub-dub sound/rhythm of the heart. Sometimes it is an "aftersound" following the "lub," other times an "aftersound" following the "dub." In any case, there is a whole science and art to listening to these sounds and determining where the "problem" is with the heart: for such murmurs do indicate problems, either with the atria or ventricles. Basically, heart murmurs are caused by "leaky" or inefficient valves; they are the sound of blood backing up, as it were.
Figuratively speaking, "heart murmurs" occur when there are "leaks" in the normally coherent and concealed ambiguity of the heart. They are memories, sometimes, or at other times, they may be inappropriate hopes (heart murmurs may occur as a result of faulty ventricles or atria, in either pump "loop"). In any case, they are not only inefficient, but potentially dangerous... The heart as our "looping" of desire, in normal "Healthy" individuals, kept "silent" and consistent (beating its syncopated rhythm with the chasing of each new pursuit), is threatened when it, for one reason or another, "LEAKS."
The normal functional machinations of our bodies and lives are so boring. Isn't it much more interesting when things break down? The mysterious signs and symptoms of burgeoning pathology, the coming to terms with abnormality, the struggles with perhaps inevitable "brokenness", the nature of (and possibility of) "cure." Yeah, it's only when things break down that we have to open them up and see how they really tick (the miraculous jerry-rigging that has kept us, and the whole society, afloat, apparently forever!).
Thursday, March 20, 2008
ANNOUNCEMENT!
I've been asked to pass on an announcement to all of you in Hawaii (like maybe the fractional portion of the one person who reads this [on occasion] here on Oahu). Kind of late, but: BLTN.
From my blurry friend (blurry like a propeller blade), Shari Tamashiro.
442nd RCT EXHIBIT - Honoring the Legacy
Kapiolani Community College Lama Library
March 24, 2008 to April 17, 2008
The sacrifice and bravery displayed by the 442nd Regimental Combat Team earned them the distinction of the most decorated unit for its size and length of service in the history of the U.S. Military. The 442nd RCT participated in "seven major campaigns in Italy and France, received seven Presidential Distinguished Unit Citations, and suffered 9,486 casualties and was awarded 18,143 individual decorations." (Selective Service System)
"The heroic exploits of the Japanese American soldier should be an inspiration to all of what courage, loyalty, honesty and devotion to America and its democratic ideals can achieve." – General Mark Clark
From March 24 to April 17, 2008, KCC Library will be presenting an exhibit honoring the 100th/442nd RCT. It also commemorates their 65th anniversary. The exhibit will feature artifacts and memorabilia from the 442nd Veterans Club Archive and Learning Center, as well as special displays on the 442nd Antitank Company, 232nd Combat Engineers, 442nd Medics, and 522nd Artillery. Additionally, the exhibit will contain a historical review and stories featuring the men of the 100th/442nd.
Lama Library Hours: March 24 – March 28: 8 am – 4 pmMarch 31 - April 17: 7:30 am – 7 pm (M-TH), 7:30 am – 4 pm (Fridays). Closed Saturday and Sunday.
Map: http://kcc.hawaii.edu/object/lamamap.html
PRESERVING AND SHARING THE LEGACY CELEBRATION
March 28, 2008, Lama Library
2 pm - 4 pm - Reception for nisei veterans. Come see the exhibit and learn how the Hawaii nisei legacy is being preserved and shared using digital storytelling.
RSVP to Shari Tamashiro at 808.734.9562 or sharit@hawaii.edu by March 24th. Parking instructions will be provided. Please indicate if handicap accommodations are required.
2:30 pm – PRESENTATION: Digital Storytelling and the HI Nisei Story web site. Shari Y. Tamashiro, Cybrarian
http://nisei.hawaii.edu
Successive generations have no framework for the stories of their grandparents; they have difficulty understanding the meaning and relevance of these personal narratives. Digital storytelling seeks to connect the past to the future, by providing a framework for successive generations to better understand the stories of the past.
The Hawaii Nisei Story, a Web-based exploration of the experiences of local Americans of Japanese Ancestry leading up to, during and following the Second World War, is an example of digital storytelling.
It comprises the life stories of Hawaii-born Nisei veterans. Some well-known, some less so, these stories – drawn from oral interviews with veterans of the 100th Infantry Battalion, the 442nd RCT, the 1399th Engineering Construction Battalion, the Military Intelligence Service and the Varsity Victory Volunteers – are deepened, complemented and complicated by the seldom heard stories of the veterans' wives and families.
. . . Come see their stories
5 pm – PANEL DISCUSSION: Hear from the veterans themselves.
Moderator: Ted T. Tsukiyama
This panel discussion with 100th/442nd RCT veterans will cover their experiences from the attack on Pearl Harbor to their return home. Hear their stories and meet these heroes. Panelists include: Genro Kashiwa, Bert Nishimura, Ron Oba and Don Shimazu.
. . . Come hear their stories
7:30 pm – HONORING THE LEGACY: Award-winning storyteller Alton Takiyama-Chung performs a tribute to the 442nd RCT.
http://www.altonchung.com/
Coming off of his sold-out, standing room only show "Okage Sama De" (I am what I am, because of you), Alton Chung returns home to perform a tribute to the 442
nd RCT. Alton gives voice to the stories of the men of the 100th/442nd in a mesmerizing performance.
. . . Come experience the magic
** Alton will also be performing at KapiolaniCC on April 3, 2008 at 11:30 am.
From my blurry friend (blurry like a propeller blade), Shari Tamashiro.
442nd RCT EXHIBIT - Honoring the Legacy
Kapiolani Community College Lama Library
March 24, 2008 to April 17, 2008
The sacrifice and bravery displayed by the 442nd Regimental Combat Team earned them the distinction of the most decorated unit for its size and length of service in the history of the U.S. Military. The 442nd RCT participated in "seven major campaigns in Italy and France, received seven Presidential Distinguished Unit Citations, and suffered 9,486 casualties and was awarded 18,143 individual decorations." (Selective Service System)
"The heroic exploits of the Japanese American soldier should be an inspiration to all of what courage, loyalty, honesty and devotion to America and its democratic ideals can achieve." – General Mark Clark
From March 24 to April 17, 2008, KCC Library will be presenting an exhibit honoring the 100th/442nd RCT. It also commemorates their 65th anniversary. The exhibit will feature artifacts and memorabilia from the 442nd Veterans Club Archive and Learning Center, as well as special displays on the 442nd Antitank Company, 232nd Combat Engineers, 442nd Medics, and 522nd Artillery. Additionally, the exhibit will contain a historical review and stories featuring the men of the 100th/442nd.
Lama Library Hours: March 24 – March 28: 8 am – 4 pmMarch 31 - April 17: 7:30 am – 7 pm (M-TH), 7:30 am – 4 pm (Fridays). Closed Saturday and Sunday.
Map: http://kcc.hawaii.edu/object/lamamap.html
PRESERVING AND SHARING THE LEGACY CELEBRATION
March 28, 2008, Lama Library
2 pm - 4 pm - Reception for nisei veterans. Come see the exhibit and learn how the Hawaii nisei legacy is being preserved and shared using digital storytelling.
RSVP to Shari Tamashiro at 808.734.9562 or sharit@hawaii.edu by March 24th. Parking instructions will be provided. Please indicate if handicap accommodations are required.
2:30 pm – PRESENTATION: Digital Storytelling and the HI Nisei Story web site. Shari Y. Tamashiro, Cybrarian
http://nisei.hawaii.edu
Successive generations have no framework for the stories of their grandparents; they have difficulty understanding the meaning and relevance of these personal narratives. Digital storytelling seeks to connect the past to the future, by providing a framework for successive generations to better understand the stories of the past.
The Hawaii Nisei Story, a Web-based exploration of the experiences of local Americans of Japanese Ancestry leading up to, during and following the Second World War, is an example of digital storytelling.
It comprises the life stories of Hawaii-born Nisei veterans. Some well-known, some less so, these stories – drawn from oral interviews with veterans of the 100th Infantry Battalion, the 442nd RCT, the 1399th Engineering Construction Battalion, the Military Intelligence Service and the Varsity Victory Volunteers – are deepened, complemented and complicated by the seldom heard stories of the veterans' wives and families.
. . . Come see their stories
5 pm – PANEL DISCUSSION: Hear from the veterans themselves.
Moderator: Ted T. Tsukiyama
This panel discussion with 100th/442nd RCT veterans will cover their experiences from the attack on Pearl Harbor to their return home. Hear their stories and meet these heroes. Panelists include: Genro Kashiwa, Bert Nishimura, Ron Oba and Don Shimazu.
. . . Come hear their stories
7:30 pm – HONORING THE LEGACY: Award-winning storyteller Alton Takiyama-Chung performs a tribute to the 442nd RCT.
http://www.altonchung.com/
Coming off of his sold-out, standing room only show "Okage Sama De" (I am what I am, because of you), Alton Chung returns home to perform a tribute to the 442
nd RCT. Alton gives voice to the stories of the men of the 100th/442nd in a mesmerizing performance.
. . . Come experience the magic
** Alton will also be performing at KapiolaniCC on April 3, 2008 at 11:30 am.
The Oedible Complex
Sometimes ideas come to me in the form of wordplays, slips of the tongue, puns. A couple of days, somehow, when one of my profs mentioned that something was "edible," I imagined that he'd said that it was Oedipal... And thus, the current pun.
[Another example, one which I may have posted previously, was this stupid (and as it turns out, totally unoriginal) pun: "Eros by any other name" (actually sounds like the way someone with a heavy Filipino accent would say the true line...).]
Anyway, the trick about these things is to make it meaningful, and not just some gimmick... So I've been kind of beating my head about it. And then, in a way, it occurred to me. I recall something I'd written for a Religion class, something about how Oedipus (whom I have always held a certain sympathy for [perhaps sympathy is too light a word]) united the community of Thebes by being the "double-crosser." Let me see if I can find the passage... Okay, found it... It's long, bear with me:
---
The notion of the fold is interesting. A fold creates an inside and an outside that communicates through the homogeneous fabric. However, it would be untrue to view the fold of the word as being an attempt by it to cut itself off completely from that original fabric. It is true that the word is involved, as we have said, in the act of cutting, in "meaning." However, that cutting is never complete; in fact, it would be quite true to say that the word does not mean to make a complete cut. The word needs the homogeneous fabric that it abjects and folds.
The need of the structure for its own want or absence is aptly expressed in the enigmatic story that de Certeau recounts, that of the "Idiot Woman." That woman, de Certeau notes, is the absence about which the community of nuns is formed. "Already when questioned about the 'lack' around which the representation of the convent was organized, they used the significant formulation: 'We have an idiot within.' This could also mean: it is our innermost secret, a madness within ourselves." (Michel de Certeau, "The Mystic Fable: Volume One, the Sixteenth and Seventeenth Century, pg. 37)
Related to this story is that other one, so central to psychoanalytic theory: Oedipus Rex. He is the Pharmakos, the poison-cure and the scapegoat. He is the outside (as exile) that becomes an inside (as king), who through his own desire to know, becomes outside once again. He is the one that crosses the threshold of the fold of Thebes twice. Through this double-crossing, Thebes is purified. Why?
Oedipus is that in-between man who takes upon himself the sins that each and every member of the fold feels. He himself seems pure and innocent as milk (or at least, he "means" well); yet, in the stomach of that tempted community, he becomes the milk that is used to induce a vomiting of poisonous temptation. "The mainspring of the tragedy lies in that ambiguity; prohibition and ideal are joined in a single character in order to signify that the speaking being has no space of his own but stands on a fragile threshold as if stranded on account of an impossible demarcation." (Julia Kristeva, Powers of Horror: An Essay on Abjection, p. 84-85) Oedipus, the transparent man who crosses the borders of Thebes (and hence, crosses every member of Thebes), becomes the opacity that binds the community together in its fear of him. He becomes the externalized object of fear that allows everyone else to pretend that what he is is not within themselves as well.
A final interesting story from a questionable source (a horror movie, Howling VI) must be told in this context. A nun once went mad in that fold of the sheep, the Church. This nun would walk about, mumbling the ominous phrase, "We are all in fear, we are all in fear," with a look of utter terror upon her face. After she died, an investigative reporter on vacation became interested in her story, and tried to find out why she had gone mad. One night, she read the transcript of the phrase over and over again. By a slip of the tongue, she discovered what the nun had been trying to say all along: "Werewolf in here." In that instant, the reporter realized that every single member of that community was a werewolf...
---
Okay, not entirely an Oedible Complex; in fact, that's the crux. Oedipus cannot be digested and absorbed; he might be palatable going down, but "inside", by what he is, he "upsets" our stomach, and forces himself up and out again...
Anyways, just random thoughts.
[Another example, one which I may have posted previously, was this stupid (and as it turns out, totally unoriginal) pun: "Eros by any other name" (actually sounds like the way someone with a heavy Filipino accent would say the true line...).]
Anyway, the trick about these things is to make it meaningful, and not just some gimmick... So I've been kind of beating my head about it. And then, in a way, it occurred to me. I recall something I'd written for a Religion class, something about how Oedipus (whom I have always held a certain sympathy for [perhaps sympathy is too light a word]) united the community of Thebes by being the "double-crosser." Let me see if I can find the passage... Okay, found it... It's long, bear with me:
---
The notion of the fold is interesting. A fold creates an inside and an outside that communicates through the homogeneous fabric. However, it would be untrue to view the fold of the word as being an attempt by it to cut itself off completely from that original fabric. It is true that the word is involved, as we have said, in the act of cutting, in "meaning." However, that cutting is never complete; in fact, it would be quite true to say that the word does not mean to make a complete cut. The word needs the homogeneous fabric that it abjects and folds.
The need of the structure for its own want or absence is aptly expressed in the enigmatic story that de Certeau recounts, that of the "Idiot Woman." That woman, de Certeau notes, is the absence about which the community of nuns is formed. "Already when questioned about the 'lack' around which the representation of the convent was organized, they used the significant formulation: 'We have an idiot within.' This could also mean: it is our innermost secret, a madness within ourselves." (Michel de Certeau, "The Mystic Fable: Volume One, the Sixteenth and Seventeenth Century, pg. 37)
Related to this story is that other one, so central to psychoanalytic theory: Oedipus Rex. He is the Pharmakos, the poison-cure and the scapegoat. He is the outside (as exile) that becomes an inside (as king), who through his own desire to know, becomes outside once again. He is the one that crosses the threshold of the fold of Thebes twice. Through this double-crossing, Thebes is purified. Why?
Oedipus is that in-between man who takes upon himself the sins that each and every member of the fold feels. He himself seems pure and innocent as milk (or at least, he "means" well); yet, in the stomach of that tempted community, he becomes the milk that is used to induce a vomiting of poisonous temptation. "The mainspring of the tragedy lies in that ambiguity; prohibition and ideal are joined in a single character in order to signify that the speaking being has no space of his own but stands on a fragile threshold as if stranded on account of an impossible demarcation." (Julia Kristeva, Powers of Horror: An Essay on Abjection, p. 84-85) Oedipus, the transparent man who crosses the borders of Thebes (and hence, crosses every member of Thebes), becomes the opacity that binds the community together in its fear of him. He becomes the externalized object of fear that allows everyone else to pretend that what he is is not within themselves as well.
A final interesting story from a questionable source (a horror movie, Howling VI) must be told in this context. A nun once went mad in that fold of the sheep, the Church. This nun would walk about, mumbling the ominous phrase, "We are all in fear, we are all in fear," with a look of utter terror upon her face. After she died, an investigative reporter on vacation became interested in her story, and tried to find out why she had gone mad. One night, she read the transcript of the phrase over and over again. By a slip of the tongue, she discovered what the nun had been trying to say all along: "Werewolf in here." In that instant, the reporter realized that every single member of that community was a werewolf...
---
Okay, not entirely an Oedible Complex; in fact, that's the crux. Oedipus cannot be digested and absorbed; he might be palatable going down, but "inside", by what he is, he "upsets" our stomach, and forces himself up and out again...
Anyways, just random thoughts.
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
Aiden
Aiden, for some reason, calls pizza hut "pizza cabin." I'm not sure where he gets this from. No one has admitted to infecting him with this little mistake. Aiden also insists that "Burger King" is "Booger King," and if you attempt to correct him, he will shout you down. "No! it's Booger King!"
Aiden seems to be left-handed. That's the hand that he writes with, and sometimes eats with. But then again, I've seen him slide in his right hand every now and then. Granted, he's not precisely drawing or writing anything intelligible yet (his favorite recurring theme is this circular scrawl which he proudly points to and says "That's a whirlpool!"), but it makes me wonder. Left-handed kids do have to take a different path, it seems... This really gets to be a problem, now that we are trying to teach our kids to play the violin. Willow, who was initially really reluctant about playing it, seems to be now so enthusiastic that she urges us to practice violin nightly. Aiden, who was initially somewhat enthusiastic, now seems uninterested to the point where he seems ADHD... He is being encouraged to play by holding the bow in his RIGHT hand, despite his apparent penchant for preferring the left. So far, it's okay, but at times, I wonder if we're doing more harm than good...
Aiden is a real flirt. He is truly reminiscent of a puppy dog. He is playful and mischievous, but he is definitely not independent. He requires and demands a lot of attention and affection. Aiden "performs" for cute little girls, and on occasion, attractive women; he singles them out, and then rushes up to talk to them, to joke with them, to dance for them. Jeez, he's only 3. I wonder what he'll be like when his hormones really kick in... (Was I like this? Nooo....)
Aiden is Gaellic for "Fire." Ai (pronounced Ei) can be represented by a Japanese Kanji meaning "Bright, Brilliant" and Den can be represented by a Japanese Kanji meaning "Continuous, Passed on, etc." When he was born in June, Waianae was suffering yet again from one of its brush fires. I couldn't help but think that the name we chose for him, and the blazes in Waianae were somehow related (sort of in the fashion of the Police's song, "Many Miles Away"). That is, Aiden's recurrent and blazing temper tantrums manifested in another fire out on the West Side... In the beginning, I had a hard time tolerating his tantrums (ME, who pride myself as being especially patient and tolerant [read: lazy]). But Aiden has since calmed down, to the point of being willful, but not a conflagaration...
Aiden seems to be left-handed. That's the hand that he writes with, and sometimes eats with. But then again, I've seen him slide in his right hand every now and then. Granted, he's not precisely drawing or writing anything intelligible yet (his favorite recurring theme is this circular scrawl which he proudly points to and says "That's a whirlpool!"), but it makes me wonder. Left-handed kids do have to take a different path, it seems... This really gets to be a problem, now that we are trying to teach our kids to play the violin. Willow, who was initially really reluctant about playing it, seems to be now so enthusiastic that she urges us to practice violin nightly. Aiden, who was initially somewhat enthusiastic, now seems uninterested to the point where he seems ADHD... He is being encouraged to play by holding the bow in his RIGHT hand, despite his apparent penchant for preferring the left. So far, it's okay, but at times, I wonder if we're doing more harm than good...
Aiden is a real flirt. He is truly reminiscent of a puppy dog. He is playful and mischievous, but he is definitely not independent. He requires and demands a lot of attention and affection. Aiden "performs" for cute little girls, and on occasion, attractive women; he singles them out, and then rushes up to talk to them, to joke with them, to dance for them. Jeez, he's only 3. I wonder what he'll be like when his hormones really kick in... (Was I like this? Nooo....)
Aiden is Gaellic for "Fire." Ai (pronounced Ei) can be represented by a Japanese Kanji meaning "Bright, Brilliant" and Den can be represented by a Japanese Kanji meaning "Continuous, Passed on, etc." When he was born in June, Waianae was suffering yet again from one of its brush fires. I couldn't help but think that the name we chose for him, and the blazes in Waianae were somehow related (sort of in the fashion of the Police's song, "Many Miles Away"). That is, Aiden's recurrent and blazing temper tantrums manifested in another fire out on the West Side... In the beginning, I had a hard time tolerating his tantrums (ME, who pride myself as being especially patient and tolerant [read: lazy]). But Aiden has since calmed down, to the point of being willful, but not a conflagaration...
impressions
Just a collection of random impressions, thoughts.
...I was walking on a sidewalk near Chinatown, and noticed that faintly sharp scent which I have come to associate with pigeons. The sidewalk I was on had, in fact, been lambasted (sp?) repeatedly by birdshit, in countless white splatters. As I stared at the birdshit, I noticed subtle patterns. The "pointilist" pigeons had relieved themselves from, of course, the branches of the trees above. It was difficult, but if I concentrated, I could almost match the shifting shadows of the branches with the forms of the birdshit that had dropped from them...
...Lynn mentioned that, when we were dancing (like when was that???), she wished that she could stand on my feet. It made her feel like we were more connected. "Holding hands is nice," she said (I'm paraphrasing), "but if I stand on your feet, it's like we're 'holding feet.'" (Hmm... that sort of came out wrong, sounds pretty disgusting, but you get the idea). Then, when she tried, she realized that it wasn't quite so nice; because of the sharpness of my talon-like toenails, and the raised and uneven ridges of my extensor tendons (on the tops of my feet), she felt like she was standing on eggshells, from eggs made of warped rubber and rock fragments...
...poor Algernon is either dead or free (maybe both). I had just bought a SAM cage (Small Animal M... Module?), this plastic "house" with all of these detachable fittings, like one that was an exercise wheel, and another that was a ringed tunnel... Trouble was, despite the new cage, his shit and pee still stank something awful, like a blast of ammonia in the face. So, for Willow's b-day party, we put Algernon and his cage outside, in our backyard (he had stayed out for many months previously, but in a glass fishtank with a screen top). The stupid feral cats that roam the valley behind our house crept into our backyard and, after feasting themselves on the garbage (which they pulled out of our garbage can), they figured out a way to "detach" one of the modules (the ringed tunnel) and soon afterwards, probably figured out a way to "detach" Algernon's cute mouse-head from his long scaly tail. I didn't tell Willow or Aiden Algernon's likely fate- I lied and said that Algernon was a very smart mouse who figured out how to get out of the cage, and that he was likely out in the valley behind our house with some other mice he'd made friends with... The kids were fine with that; they agreed that Algernon had been a smart mouse, and yes, he was probably better off playing with other mice his own age. Being a parent involves such terrible deceit, always delivered with such deadpan expressions...
...I was walking on a sidewalk near Chinatown, and noticed that faintly sharp scent which I have come to associate with pigeons. The sidewalk I was on had, in fact, been lambasted (sp?) repeatedly by birdshit, in countless white splatters. As I stared at the birdshit, I noticed subtle patterns. The "pointilist" pigeons had relieved themselves from, of course, the branches of the trees above. It was difficult, but if I concentrated, I could almost match the shifting shadows of the branches with the forms of the birdshit that had dropped from them...
...Lynn mentioned that, when we were dancing (like when was that???), she wished that she could stand on my feet. It made her feel like we were more connected. "Holding hands is nice," she said (I'm paraphrasing), "but if I stand on your feet, it's like we're 'holding feet.'" (Hmm... that sort of came out wrong, sounds pretty disgusting, but you get the idea). Then, when she tried, she realized that it wasn't quite so nice; because of the sharpness of my talon-like toenails, and the raised and uneven ridges of my extensor tendons (on the tops of my feet), she felt like she was standing on eggshells, from eggs made of warped rubber and rock fragments...
...poor Algernon is either dead or free (maybe both). I had just bought a SAM cage (Small Animal M... Module?), this plastic "house" with all of these detachable fittings, like one that was an exercise wheel, and another that was a ringed tunnel... Trouble was, despite the new cage, his shit and pee still stank something awful, like a blast of ammonia in the face. So, for Willow's b-day party, we put Algernon and his cage outside, in our backyard (he had stayed out for many months previously, but in a glass fishtank with a screen top). The stupid feral cats that roam the valley behind our house crept into our backyard and, after feasting themselves on the garbage (which they pulled out of our garbage can), they figured out a way to "detach" one of the modules (the ringed tunnel) and soon afterwards, probably figured out a way to "detach" Algernon's cute mouse-head from his long scaly tail. I didn't tell Willow or Aiden Algernon's likely fate- I lied and said that Algernon was a very smart mouse who figured out how to get out of the cage, and that he was likely out in the valley behind our house with some other mice he'd made friends with... The kids were fine with that; they agreed that Algernon had been a smart mouse, and yes, he was probably better off playing with other mice his own age. Being a parent involves such terrible deceit, always delivered with such deadpan expressions...
Friday, March 7, 2008
from "Fear and Trembling," by Soren Kierkegaard
".... just as God created man and woman, so he created the hero and the poet or orator. The poet or orator can do nothing that the hero does; he can only admire, love, and delight in him. Yet he, too, is happy- no less than that one is, for the hero is, so to speak, his better nature, with which he is enamored- yet happy that the other is not himself, that his love can be admiration. He is recollection's genius. He can do nothing but bring to mind what has been done, can do nothing but admire what has been done; he takes nothing of his own but is zealous for what has been entrusted. He follows his heart's desire, but when he has found the object of his search, he roams about to every man's door with song and speech so that all may admire the hero as he does, may be proud of the hero as he is. This is his occupation, his humble task; this is his fiathful service in the house of the hero. If he remains true to his love in this way, if he contends night and day against the craftiness of oblivion, which wants to trick him out of his hero, then he has fulfilled his task, then he is gathered together with the hero, who has loved him just as faithfully, for the poet is, so to speak, the hero's better nature, powerless, to be sure, just as a memory is, but also transfigured just as a memory is. Therefore, no one who was great will be forgotten, and even though it takes time, even though a cloud of misunderstanding takes away the hero, his lover will nevertheless come, and the longer the passage of time, the more faithfully he adheres to him."
... about Abraham, the "hero" who demonstrated the "insurpassability" of faith.
... about Abraham, the "hero" who demonstrated the "insurpassability" of faith.
Another seminal passage from Freud (Beyond the Pleasure Principle)
"Let us picture a living organism in its most simplified possible form as an undifferentiated vesicle of a substance that is susceptible to stimulation. Then the surface turned towards the external world will from its very situation be differentiated and will serve as an organ for receiving stimuli.... It would be easy to suppose, then, that as a result of the ceaseless impact of external stimuli on the surface of the vesicle, its substance to a certain depth may have become permanently modified, so that excitatory processes run a different course in it from what they run in the deeper layers. A crust would thus be formed which would at last have been so thoroughly 'baked through' by stimulation that it would present the most favourable possible conditions for the reception of stimuli and become incapable of any further modification...."
"But we have more to say of the living vesicle with its receptive cortical layer. This little fragment of living substance is suspended in the middle of an external world charged with the most powerful energies; and it would be killed by the stimulation emanating from these if it were not provided with a protective shield against stimuli. It acquires the shield in this way: its outermost surface ceases to have the structure proper to living matter, becomes to some degree inorganic and thenceforward functions as a special envelope or membrane resistant to stimuli. In consequence, the energies of the external world are able to pass into the next underlying layers, which have remained living, with only a fragment of their original intensity; and these layers can devote themselves, behind the protective shield, to the reception of the amounts of stimulus which have been allowed through it. BY ITS DEATH, the outer layer has saved all the deeper ones from a similar fate- unless, that is to say, stimuli reach it which are so strong that they break through the protective shield. PROTECTION AGAINST stimuli is an almost more important function for the living organism than RECEPTION OF stimuli...." (p. 20, 21)
"But we have more to say of the living vesicle with its receptive cortical layer. This little fragment of living substance is suspended in the middle of an external world charged with the most powerful energies; and it would be killed by the stimulation emanating from these if it were not provided with a protective shield against stimuli. It acquires the shield in this way: its outermost surface ceases to have the structure proper to living matter, becomes to some degree inorganic and thenceforward functions as a special envelope or membrane resistant to stimuli. In consequence, the energies of the external world are able to pass into the next underlying layers, which have remained living, with only a fragment of their original intensity; and these layers can devote themselves, behind the protective shield, to the reception of the amounts of stimulus which have been allowed through it. BY ITS DEATH, the outer layer has saved all the deeper ones from a similar fate- unless, that is to say, stimuli reach it which are so strong that they break through the protective shield. PROTECTION AGAINST stimuli is an almost more important function for the living organism than RECEPTION OF stimuli...." (p. 20, 21)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)