Thursday, September 4, 2014

Belly-Button Lint

10 comments:

FreeThinke said...

To Believe

To Worship

To Sacrifice

To Serve

To Celebrate

To Compete

To Achieve

These seem to be universal themes -- an endless cycle driving the development of Civilization -- that may have motivated men since the dawn of consciousness. At any rate, these factors certainly drove the ancient Greeks seven-hundred years before the birth of Christ.

This brilliant young man's passionate involvement with his subject matter is infectious. His sincerity and devotion palpable.

His polished presentation a joy to behold on many levels not the least of which is to hear English spoken beautifully, clearly, and expressively without a trace of affectation, or condescension.

it occurred tome that it amy not matter so much what we believe in as long as have faith and confidence in Something we believe much greater than ourselves.

Nobody does documentaries any better than the British and damned few as well. I think this is superb.

Thank you.

-FJ said...

Glad you enjoyed it. I enjoyed the narration as well.

-FJ said...

THERE all the golden codgers lay,
There the silver dew,
And the great water sighed for love,
And the wind sighed too.
Man-picker Niamh leant and sighed
By Oisin on the grass;
There sighed amid his choir of love
Tall pythagoras.
plotinus came and looked about,
The salt-flakes on his breast,
And having stretched and yawned awhile
Lay sighing like the rest.
Straddling each a dolphin's back
And steadied by a fin,
Those Innocents re-live their death,
Their wounds open again.
The ecstatic waters laugh because
Their cries are sweet and strange,
Through their ancestral patterns dance,
And the brute dolphins plunge
Until, in some cliff-sheltered bay
Where wades the choir of love
Proffering its sacred laurel crowns,
They pitch their burdens off.


William Butler Yeats, "News For The Delphic Oracle"

-FJ said...

As for your thesis... ;)

FreeThinke said...

His name was NEWLAND Archer, not Newton. Other than that --- spot on.

I too believe The Office is larger and more important than The Man who holds it, just as I believe that Jesus Christ cannot be "discredited" by the myriad fools, poseurs, sadistic authoritarians who claim to represent Him.

If a priest be a pedophile, does that mean the priesthood, itself, should be abandoned, discarded and forever vilified as inherently unworthy?

A discussion of the probable motives of Newland Archer's wife might prove interesting. So would an examination of Newland Archer's motives in staying with his good, kind, but rather insipid wife letting the Countess Olenska effectively "go hang."

Is Convention, and the fear of disgrace and ostracism more powerful than Passion after all, or was it just common Decency that held sway in Newland Archer's case?

FreeThinke said...

" ... I could not love thee quite so well loved I not honor more."

-FJ said...

Good catch. Zizek must not have any fact-checkers review his articles.

-FJ said...

...and I'd say that Archer's "character" was much stronger than that of our contemporaries.

FreeThinke said...

Could it be
We need our fantasies
And fond illusions
More than we need
Mundane reality?

Did ancient astronauts
Visit Earth aeons ago,
Plant Colonies - perform
Wondrous Feats of Engineering
Still unexplained?

The eternal Mystery of
The Pyramids - The Sphinx
Stonehenge - Gigantic Chalk Figures,
Discernible only from great heights -
Easter Island - Machu Pichu?

The Origin of Man -
The miracles of Music -
Painting - Sculpture -
Poetry and Thought.

The Star of Bethlehem -
The Virgin Birth - The Magi -
Betrayal, Death and Resurrection?

Patterns of Migration?
Courtship Rituals?
Attachment - Dependency -
Illness - Abandonment -
Grief - Tedium -
Decline - Decay -

The eternal Search
For Acceptance - Appreciation -
Affection - Understanding -

ESCAPE!


~ FreeThinke

-FJ said...

Could it be

Nietzsche - "On Truth and Lie in an Extra-Moral Sense"

It is strange that this should be the effect of the intellect, for after all it was given only as an aid to the most unfortunate, most delicate, most evanescent beings in order to hold them for a minute in existence, from which otherwise, without this gift, they would have every reason to flee as quickly as Lessing's son. [In a famous letter to Johann Joachim Eschenburg (December 31, 1778), Lessing relates the death of his infant son, who "understood the world so well that he left it at the first opportunity."] That haughtiness which goes with knowledge and feeling, which shrouds the eyes and senses of man in a blinding fog, therefore deceives him about the value of existence by carrying in itself the most flattering evaluation of knowledge itself. Its most universal effect is deception; but even its most particular effects have something of the same character.

The intellect, as a means for the preservation of the individual, unfolds its chief powers in simulation; for this is the means by which the weaker, less robust individuals preserve themselves, since they are denied the chance of waging the struggle for existence with horns or the fangs of beasts of prey. In man this art of simulation reaches its peak: here deception, flattering, lying and cheating, talking behind the back, posing, living in borrowed splendor, being masked, the disguise of convention, acting a role before others and before oneself—in short, the constant fluttering around the single flame of vanity is so much the rule and the law that almost nothing is more incomprehensible than how an honest and pure urge for truth could make its appearance among men. They are deeply immersed in illusions and dream images; their eye glides only over the surface of things and sees "forms"; their feeling nowhere lead into truth, but contents itself with the reception of stimuli, playing, as it were, a game of blindman's buff on the backs of things. Moreover, man permits himself to be lied to at night, his life long, when he dreams, and his moral sense never even tries to prevent this—although men have been said to have overcome snoring by sheer will power.

What, indeed, does man know of himself! Can he even once perceive himself completely, laid out as if in an illuminated glass case? Does not nature keep much the most from him, even about his body, to spellbind and confine him in a proud, deceptive consciousness, far from the coils of the intestines, the quick current of the blood stream, and the involved tremors of the fibers? She threw away the key; and woe to the calamitous curiosity which might peer just once through a crack in the chamber of consciousness and look down, and sense that man rests upon the merciless, the greedy, the insatiable, the murderous, in the indifference of his ignorance—hanging in dreams, as it were, upon the back of a tiger. In view of this, whence in all the world comes the urge for truth?