WOOOHOOOO!

Well its been good knowin all ya'll

Thanks Charity, I really did enjoy the class and now I am a writing major so i may see ya roundabout sumtime then in the next few semesters.

One last piece for any fiend of grades:  Don't work too hard otherwise yullll just end up hatin' it.




"how do you feel?" one asked

"like and Empty Conch nestled in billions of grains while the night sea foam slowly laps into me.
how do you think?" two whispered

"as a Dusty wet Moth drying its fresh opened wings" one thought
"how do you Starve?"

"i am a Rat in a Dumpster with no teeth." two spoke hollowly

"cool"

"yeah"

"how do you Live?" two asked

"just as the last Brown autumn Leaf does when it is finally covered with first winter's snow."

"i See"

"how?"

"the jewel center of Nothing"

"the Empty spot between the stars?"

"yes"

"mee too"








Have a great summer everyone, comment on this?  One final hoooorrrrraaahhh? No?
"i See you see"

O class presentations!

Is anyone else bored of the hero's journey?  Dear sweet god of presentations please halt such activity of repetition by the dull blade of Campbell's reiteration in this class.  IT'S TRUE THE JOURNEY OF THE HERO IS EVERYWHERE BUT PLEASE NO MAS PARA MI SALUD Y TODOS LAS PERSONAS EN LA CLASSE.

See ya'll Friday with some awesome shit to bring our class out of chaos.  Let's crack that shell and see if we can find something more.


¡Peaceeeeeeeeee y salud!

Ishtar by Judith Wright

When I first saw a woman after childbirth
the room was full of your glance who had just gone away.
And when the mare was bearing her foal
you were with her but I did not see your face.

When in fear I became a woman
I first felt your hand
When the shadow of the future first fell across me
it was your shadow, my grave and hooded attendant.

It is all one whether I deny or affirm you;
it is not my mind you are concerned with,
It is no matter whether I submit or rebel;
the event will happen.

You neither know nor care for the truth of my heart;
but the truth of my body has all to do with you.
You have no need of my thoughts or my hopes,
living in the realm of the absolute event.

Then why is it that when I at last see your face
under that hood of slate-blue, so calm and dark,
so worn with the burden of an inexpressible knowledge—
why is that I begin to worship you with tears?

whatayathinkothis

John Ashbery - At North Farm

Somewhere someone is traveling furiously toward you,
At incredible speed, traveling day and night,
Through blizzards and desert heat, across torrents,
through narrow passes.
But will he know where to find you,
Recognize you when he sees you,
Give you the thing he has for you?

Hardly anything grows here,
Yet the granaries are bursting with meal,
The sacks of meal piled to the rafters.
The streams run with sweetness, fattening fish;
Birds darken the sky. Is it enough
That the dish of milk is set out at night,
That we think of him sometimes,
Sometimes and always, with mixed feelings?

Any mythy businassss shamnyone?

great poemmm

is this

Is this all nothingness and our etiological reasoning just dust?

wth[nfweonPNFEWKFSDK K;DAF

we dont fool around with our foolin around 

aprils' fools's 

10 O'clock Threshold

I believe, or think, that a trickster waits for you every morning.  I have vowed to never take a class before 10 again.  It is hell to get up for a class before then, but an 11 O'clock class may be worse.  It seems that when you wake up before 10, it is still the morning and an easier motivation takes place inside where it is far easier to leave the warmth of my somewhat cave in the basement, hidden from the upstairs.  But waking after 10, it seems so much more delightful to stay in the wrappings of fleece and cotton and find Orpheus again before the light of Helios strikes my Iris harder.  So therefore, at least for my self, a 10 O'clock threshold exists, and you must beat the trickster to 10 O'clock or he will dust your eyes into dreams of sweet horror, which in turn, causes you to miss class.


have a righteous day

Italy!

Hey everybody! I'm in Italy!

I hope everyone is having a wonderful break; I visited the Uffizi yesterday and saw Michelangelo's Testa di Medusa and it is my favorite piece by him.  It's painted on a shield!  OOOOooooooo I wonder why?
I bet you can guess.

March woot!

Have a good March eeeeeerayonne

Hercules

Wouldn't it be bizarre if your dad was the God? Or if a centaur, Nessus, tried to rape your wife? I guess you better be at least a demi-god.

A section I found interesting is, when Hercules has crossed the river Evenus and catches Nessus about to the dirty, Hercules says, "To what unhappy end will that misplaced self-confidence of yours to betray you, rapist?--Yes i mean you, double-dealing Nessus!  Listen, don't interfere with what is mine--if not for the respect you ought to show me, then for the memory of Ixion, your father, who lies bound upon a wheel for all eternity--the price he paid for his attempting a FORBIDDEN RAPE."

Does this mean in our ancestors believed that there is a rape that exists that is allowed by not only the gods but humankind themselves, if and only if there is a forbidden type of rape, does an allowed rape exist?

Seems somewhat strange, but obviously Zues-Jupiter-Jove has his way with anyone.