= IS “REALLY” THA NO 1 SYMBOL.
ARE SQUARE QUOTES SCA
ARE SCARE QUOTES SCARIER WHEN THEY’RE ALONE?
TURN BOTH SQUARE BRACKETS ONLY HALF AROUND AND SEE WHAT HAPPENS!
BUT PEOPLE DON’T SEE INASMUCH AS SEEING MEANS ITS OWN OPPOSITE
IF MAN IS THE LOGICAL ANIMAL, ISN’T HE THEREBY ALREADY THE FASCIST ANIMAL?
THE FASCES IS (UGH) A FASCINATING SYMBOL: A BUNDLE OF APPARENTLY EQUAL (ENOUGH) RODS, BOUND AROUND AN AXE THAT WORKS BOTH WAYS
HELL IS OTHER PEERS, UNLESS IT’S HEAVEN [TOGETHER] AGAINST THE PEERLESS
MODERN HUMANISTS/PROGRESSIVES/LIBERALS/DEMOCRATS/SOCIALISTS/ANARCHISTS AND WHAT HAVE YOU ARE (IN THEORY) PROTECTIVE AND DEFENSIVE OF WEAKER MINORITIES. THE BITTER TRUTH IS THAT OVERWHELMING MAJORITIES ARE BASED ON PHOBOS (FEAR/HATE) OF STRONGER MINORITIES. MODERN IDEALISTS WOULD SHIELD THE WEAKER MINORITY AGAINST THEMSELVES.
HAD I WRITTEN “WEAKER MINORITIES” JUST NOW, IT WOULD HAVE BEEN AMBI
FOR A LONG TIME AFTER I FIRST READ BLAKE’S PROVERB OF HELL, I WAS CLUELESS AS TO WHAT IT MEANT. (WHILE I LOOK IT UP, NOTE THAT THIS ESSAY WAS WRITTEN TO A VEDIC READING OF HOMER)
“The selfish smiling fool, & the sullen frowning fool, shall be both thought wise, that they may be a rod.”
(AH, THE READING JUST ENDED—THE-ENDED, IF YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN (KALI MANTRA BEGAN))
(BUT NO, THIS WON’T DO. BACK TO THE RECITAL! RANDOM IS TOO DISTRACTING RIGHT NOW)
EVEN WHEN I UNDERSTOOD WHAT BLAKE LITERALLY MEANT, THE SYMBOL WAS TOO CONCRETE FOR ME TO UNDERSTAND
NOT THE LAST TIME I WAS HANDICAPPED BY MY “HEAD START”!
WHAT DOES BLAKE MEAN BY “FOOL”? WHETHER HE MEANS SINNER OR FURIOUS OR NEITHER OR BOTH, ANOTHER PROVERB APPLIES:
“If the fool would persist in his folly he would become wise.”
PERSISTING IN ONE’S SIN OR ONE’S FURY OR WHATEVER ELSE MAKES ONE A FOOL—THAT IS “the road of excess [which] leads to the palace of wisdom”!
SELFISH SMILING (SMUG) OR SULLEN FROWNING (DOUR)—NEITHER SEES THE SAME TREE THE WISE MAN SEES.
THE TREE, OR THE HEDGE AT THE BOTTOM OF THE GARDEN, IS TRULY THE DHARMA-BODY OF THE BUDDHA
ALREADY WHEN I’D JUST STARTED PERSISTING IN WRITING RHYMES OR SONGS, I TOOK THE NAKED TREE
I IN WINTER SAW
UNDER MY POETIC PROTECTION:
“Naked tree, come follow me,
Over land and over sea:
We’ll retrieve your golden leaves,
End your greatest grief and set you free!” [“Naked Tree”(1996)]
THE FOLLY OF THIS IS THAT LACK OF FREEDOM (OF MOVEMENT) IS NOT PART OF A TREE’S GREATEST GRIEF AT ALL!
ITS GREAT GRIEF, IF ANY, IS THE LOSS OF ITS GOLDEN LEAVES—AND EVEN THAT ONLY SYMBOLICALLY!
“The flowers are easy to paint;
the leaves,
difficult” (Oriental haiku, if I remember right, quoted in The Doors of Perception)
THE WHOLE LIFE-CYCLE OF THE TREE, WITH ITS EASILY PSYCHEDELIC (INDIAN) SUMMER MANE—THAT DIDN’T OCCUR TO ME BACK THEN. NOT THE LIFE UNDERNEATH ITS BARK; THE LIFE AT ITS FINGERTIPS THEN CAUGHT MY HIGH OR HEIGHTENED EYE
NOW THAT I THINK ABOUT IT, IT WASN’T EVEN SO MUCH ITS SUMMER MANE; IT WAS THE WAY THE SUNLIGHT PLAYED WITH THE BUDDING LEAVES IN SPRING
THE BREEZE OR HIGH WINDS, TOO, PERHAPS; THE GREY-GREEN SKY JUST BEFORE A THUNDERSTORM
LIGHTNING, O QUICK ONE, DISTANT ONE
THERE ARE MANY KINDS OF WHITE CHRISTMAS. IT NEED NOT BE THE COMFY, SNOWY ONE; IT MAY ALSO BE THE HEATSTROKE, STRIKING ONE
MY PROTEST IS A DEMONSTRATION. I ATTEST TO A GOODNESS NEVER DREAMED OF BY OUR FOUNDING FATHERS, THE EARLY MODERN PHILOSOPHERS—OR WAS IT?
I’VE BEEN ABLE TO HAVE MY EYES OPENED TO THAT GOODNESS, THAT GREATNESS—OF FRANCIS BACON, FOR EXAMPLE. YET THEY [the EMPs] KNEW THEY WERE UNINTENDED, IF NOT BY THEIR OWN FOUNDING FATHERS, IN TURN—PLATO, FOR EXAMPLE—, THEN AT LEAST BY THOSE IN BETWEEN THEM, THOSE BELOW THEM—THE VULGAR WITH WHOM THEY COMPROMISED.
KING SOLOMON WAS NOT WISE, BUT HIS JOABIM WERE.
THE POETIC GENIUS IS INDEED THE FIRST PRINCIPLE—IF YOU INSIST
THE KINGS ADVISORS PERSWADED WITH SWEET NOTHINGS
ARROGANT, MOI? I’M SUCH A HUMBLE LOVER OF WISDOM. BLESSED ARE THE MEEK!
NO, YOU CLEVER PHILOSOPHER KING, AWAY WITH THAT CLOAK OF THE INNOCENT TYGER!
“Mansur was wise, but wiser they who smote
him with the hurlèd stones;
And though his blood a witness bore, no
Wisdom-Might could mend his bones.”
(QUOTED BY CROWLEY IN HIS LITTLE ESSAYS)
WE ALL—STONES AS WELL AS TURBAND-WRAPPING—HAVE OUR PARTS TO PLAY. MINE IS THAT OF POET