Melancholics Anonymous
Sophistry and Illusion from The Graber



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Ken/Male/21-25. Lives in United States/Indiana/Bloomington, speaks English. Eye color is blue. I am skinny. I am also cynical. My interests are Writing/swaying in the breeze.
This is my blogchalk:
United States, Indiana, Bloomington, English, Ken, Male, 21-25, Writing, swaying in the breeze.

Sunday, November 02, 2003
 

Short...

but it feels complete, so I'm going with it for now. 


Drunk on the Wormwood

Here is a lament for my two daughters who,
in their crippling infidelity, left their
home of opal and jasper
and became harlots, furthering their
pestulence in the boarded-up breeding pits
and mole deposits.

what madness bid them leave my wings?
what potion quelled their conscience
to leave their inheritence unguarded and
gnarl street-corner carrion with the pigs?

There are my brides in white dresses,
the brightest maidens from the house of my youth,
whom I love and lose a little more with every
choking swallow of the defiling cup that passes
my lips. 


11:22:00 PM    comment []

Poison on your tongue

Perhaps I'm mistaken to say that music today occupies a much larger role in society, particularly Western society, than it ever has in the past, or at least it occupies a higher percentage of the aesthetic thought of people today.  I wondered why that might be, and when I read about the brain itch study recently, it sent me off on a train of thought. 

It seems that music, namely popular music, and film are offering a different manner of stimulus than literary or the still arts, and receive a different response.  A song, or even a short section of a score, is designed through a pleasing melody to evict an emotional response out of the hearer that he or she desires to repeat over and over.  The literary is more rational, traditionally longer and more difficult to remember offhand, and needs to be digested every time it's encountered to have an effect. 

That's not anything new to you, I'm sure, but what's it mean?  Lest I give the hell-on-a-poker speech, it means to me that music and musicians are going to become even more enshrined in our culture the more we drift into a subjective/emotional world.  Of course, I find this lamentable to me as a writer.  (Dang you depth-sucking, sugar-slurping broadcast news yuppies! <g>)

I wonder where poetry falls in there, must be somewhere between the two.  I'd compare it to picking up a nice, full cello and blunt-ending it onto someone's head.   


10:18:58 PM    comment []


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