Tuesday, March 3, 2015

Supercharged Freedom Fighters

You drink a bitter draught.
I sip the tears your eyes fight to hold
A cup of lees, of henbane steeped in chaff.
Your breast is hot,
Your anger black and cold,
Through evening's rest, you dream
I hear the moans, you die a thousand's death.
When cane straps flog the body
dark and lean, you feel the blow,
I hear it in your breath.
- Maya Angelou, "To A Freedom Fighter"

11 comments:

FreeThinke said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
-FJ said...

Nietzsche, "Human, All too Human"

50

Desire to arouse pity. In the most noteworthy passage of his self-portrait (first published in 1658), La Rochefoucauld certainly hits the mark when he warns all reasonable men against pity, when he advises them to leave it to those common people who need passions (because they are not directed by reason) to bring them to the point of helping the sufferer and intervening energetically in a misfortune. For pity, in his (and Plato`s) judgment, weakens the soul. Of course one ought to express pity, but one ought to guard against having it; for unfortunate people are so stupid that they count the expression of pity as the greatest good on earth.

Perhaps one can warn even more strongly against having pity for the unfortunate if one does not think of their need for pity as stupidity and intellectual deficiency, a kind of mental disorder resulting from their misfortune (this is how La Rochefoucauld seems to regard it), but rather as something quite different and more dubious. Observe how children weep and cry, so that they will be pitied, how they wait for the moment when their condition will be noticed. Or live among the ill and depressed, and question whether their eloquent laments and whimpering, the spectacle of their misfortune, is not basically aimed at hurting those present. The pity that the spectators then express consoles the weak and suffering, inasmuch as they see that, despite all their weakness, they still have at least one power: the power to hurt. When expressions of pity make the unfortunate man aware of this feeling of superiority, he gets a kind of pleasure from it; his self-image revives; he is still important enough to inflict pain on the world. Thus the thirst for pity is a thirst for self-enjoyment, and at the expense of one`s fellow men. It reveals man in the complete inconsideration of his most intimate dear self, but not precisely in his "stupidity," as La Rochefoucauld thinks.

In social dialogue, three-quarters of all questions and answers are framed in order to hurt the participants a little bit; this is why many men thirst after society so much: it gives them a feeling of their strength. In these countless, but very small doses, malevolence takes effect as one of life`s powerful stimulants, just as goodwill, dispensed in the same way throughout the human world, is the perennially ready cure.

But will there be many people honest enough to admit that it is a pleasure to inflict pain? That not infrequently one amuses himself (and well) by offending other men (at least in his thoughts) and by shooting pellets of petty malice at them? Most people are too dishonest, and a few men are too good, to know anything about this source of shame. So they may try to deny that Prosper Merim�e is right when he says, "Sachez aussi qu`il n`y a rien de plus commun que de faire le mal pour le plaisir de le faire."

FreeThinke said...

My pity party
Gave them grounds to reject me.
No one attended.

I am so alone
I don't think I can stand it.
Alack, woe is me!

They are with you when
You laugh,but not when you cry.
Then you are alone.

Clich├ęs give comfort.
Where would I be without them?
Mute! Bereft of words.

FreeThinke said...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S6CZKVGSb1E

Boo-hoo!
You've got me crying for you
And as I sit here and sigh,
Says I, "I can't believe it's true."

Boo-hoo!
I'll tell my mama on you.
The little game that you played
Has made her baby oh so blue.

You left me in the lurch,
You left me waiting at the church.

Boo-hoo!
That's why I'm crying for you.
Someday you'll feel like I do
And you'll be boo-hoo-hooin' too.



~ Songwriters: We the people of HEYMAN, EDWARD / LOMBARDO, CARMEN / LOEB, JOHN JACOB & CO.

Can you believe it took a COMMITTEE to come up with THAT little but of profundity?

Z said...

WOE BUSINESS...brilliant.

If you knew what I knew about Angelou, you'd never post anything by her, though this isn't half bad. I'm not saying she's not go talent, but I have great friend whose sis has, more than once, gone on Oprah's birthday cruise for Maya, and ....I can't say, but you best be black if you want to talk with her.
ANd more..............

I like the video/music; hard driving, good stuff.

-FJ said...

Maya isn't my favorite poet, by far. I was simply looking for a poem on the subject, and hers was the best at the time of "selection" for this post. It's the Led Zep style of the music that made me want to cover this topic.

-FJ said...

7Horse defintely had this tune in mind when they wrote it.

FreeThinke said...

I'm astonished no one caught and chastised me for my egregious error. Here's the CORRECTED copy:

THERE'S NO BUSINESS LIKE WOE BUSINESS

_____ Dedicated to Maya Angelou _____

There's no Business like Woe Business
Like no Business I know.

Everything about it is appealing ––
The world must stop to sooth my fevered brow.
My pathetic state lets me keep stealing ––
And then demanding you to me must bow.

There're no artists like con artists
Who want you to feel low.
They use their pathos to make slaves of us to hold
And toss our naked butts in the cold
And they'll never cease till they've got all our gold

Let's get on with the WOE
LET's get on with the WOE


~ Anne Animus aka FreeThinke

Sorry, Oiving Boylin, it was just too good a chance to miss. - FT

Imagine Ethel Merman singing these words, and you've got it. ;-)

-FJ said...

I can picture Ethel, alright...

FreeThinke said...

"Vanity of Vanities. All is Vanity," saith the preacher.

If it ain' Vanity, its BANALITY.

-FJ said...

...but "who's" vanity? The Masters? Or his slave's? Never mind, I'm sure the Master finds his subject's vanity banal, as well.