This is a place where I will write about things. Things that I like. Things that I like to write about. These things may be, but are not limited to: Gnosis, comedy, my adventures as a high school teacher in a large U.S. city, god, music, film, society, culture, communication, and lentils. And sports. Some sports too.
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Monday, August 12, 2013
Sunday, August 11, 2013
Friday, August 9, 2013
parabola-magazine: Helen KellerShe,In the dark,Found...
Helen Keller
She,
In the dark,
Found light
Brighter than many ever see.
She,
Within herself,
Found loveliness,
Through the soul’s own mastery.
And now the world receives
From her dower:
The message of the strength
Of inner power.
—Langston Hughes
via Tumblr http://xokp.tumblr.com/post/57863050685
Downward facing flashlight #xokp http://bit.ly/15V7ff6
Downward facing flashlight #xokp http://bit.ly/15V7ff6
via Tumblr http://xokp.tumblr.com/post/57816770100
Wednesday, August 7, 2013
Watch for people crossing the street on their heads. #xokp...
Watch for people crossing the street on their heads. #xokp http://bit.ly/19bwmPG
via Tumblr http://xokp.tumblr.com/post/57646415616
Saturday, August 3, 2013
Guess who came to dessert? #xokp http://bit.ly/16SCdUd
Guess who came to dessert? #xokp http://bit.ly/16SCdUd
via Tumblr http://xokp.tumblr.com/post/57299771965
Thursday, August 1, 2013
Out of SPACE—Out of TIME
"From a wild weird clime that lieth, sublime,
Out of SPACE—Out of TIME."
When I was a little kid I was obsessed with books about space. I loved picture books with diagrams, charts and maps. We had a huge atlas, so heavily cumbersome that we kept it under the couch. It had all types of terrestrial maps, but it also had star maps and maps of the solar system. I would spread it out on the living room floor and get lost in the pictures of distant worlds. Cleveland was as alien as Neptune to my 8 year old mind.
At some point I acquired a book about space travel, NASA and the like. I remember this quote. It was in the prologue. It resonated in such a way that my mind has reached back to it at random intervals since.
"From a wild weird clime that lieth, sublime,
Out of SPACE—Out of TIME."
At the time I could only loosely grasp the meaning. But it echoed.
Through space.
Through time.
Tonight I’m reading Joseph Campbell. He’s discussing comparative mythology, belief and the sublime. The ineffable, quintessence. Sublime. Echoes. Why does that quote still ring. The book is long gone. The quote is in my head. Is it Blake? Yeats? Google: “sublime through space time" aha: it’s Poe. Edgar Allan Poe. Twisted genius way too tapped into his own inner world to be able to handle this one.
A time capsule. A gift from a younger me. Time and space just folded over and I beheld some new dimension.
Sublime
http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/178357
Dream-Land
By a route obscure and lonely,
Haunted by ill angels only,
Where an Eidolon, named NIGHT,
On a black throne reigns upright,
I have reached these lands but newly
From an ultimate dim Thule—
From a wild weird clime that lieth, sublime,
Out of SPACE—Out of TIME.
Bottomless vales and boundless floods,
And chasms, and caves, and Titan woods,
With forms that no man can discover
For the tears that drip all over;
Mountains toppling evermore
Into seas without a shore;
Seas that restlessly aspire,
Surging, unto skies of fire;
Lakes that endlessly outspread
Their lone waters—lone and dead,—
Their still waters—still and chilly
With the snows of the lolling lily.
By the lakes that thus outspread
Their lone waters, lone and dead,—
Their sad waters, sad and chilly
With the snows of the lolling lily,—
By the mountains—near the river
Murmuring lowly, murmuring ever,—
By the grey woods,—by the swamp
Where the toad and the newt encamp,—
By the dismal tarns and pools
Where dwell the Ghouls,—
By each spot the most unholy—
In each nook most melancholy,—
There the traveller meets, aghast,
Sheeted Memories of the Past—
Shrouded forms that start and sigh
As they pass the wanderer by—
White-robed forms of friends long given,
In agony, to the Earth—and Heaven.
For the heart whose woes are legion
’T is a peaceful, soothing region—
For the spirit that walks in shadow
’T is—oh, ’t is an Eldorado!
But the traveller, travelling through it,
May not—dare not openly view it;
Never its mysteries are exposed
To the weak human eye unclosed;
So wills its King, who hath forbid
The uplifting of the fring'd lid;
And thus the sad Soul that here passes
Beholds it but through darkened glasses.
By a route obscure and lonely,
Haunted by ill angels only,
Where an Eidolon, named NIGHT,
On a black throne reigns upright,
I have wandered home but newly
From this ultimate dim Thule.
Source: The Complete Poems and Stories of Edgar Allan Poe (1946)
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