hume said that an idea is nothing more than a re-created memory. that we create our ideas every time we think them. that they start in sense perception and fade from there. that knowledge as enduring understanding is an illusion. kant agreed, and added though that just because thought is contingent, does not mean we aren’t aware of useful patterns. the river still flows in navigable runs.
Archive for July, 2013
Posted in Philosophy on July 3, 2013| Leave a Comment »
Posted in Philosophy on July 3, 2013| Leave a Comment »
scalia’s doctrine of textual limitation of judicial discretion is nothing more than an attempt to ensconce his own brand of power. because when he convinces others not to be guided by the supporting documents attendant upon the original creation of a statute, it actually gives him more leeway in the interpretation of that statute. textualism is an intellectual trojan horse. designed to weaken the power of others and amplify his own. it is a very cleverly concealed form of judicial activism, and the oldest trick in the book: appearing to denounce the very doctrine which he secretly supports (for himself alone, of course).
Posted in Poetry on July 3, 2013| Leave a Comment »
the invisible having traded, suffering for a prize,
years ago the author finally discovered what he loved.
that her heart beat
for a moment on his sleeve
is the only thing he won’t forsake.
and she the poetry student begged her sometime prince
if sentries wrote their own orders.
if they’re allowed.
Posted in Poetry on July 3, 2013| Leave a Comment »
how did he do that
what
make it go away
does it matter
to me it does
its just an experience can’t you be entertained
oh i have an inquisitive mind
i just want to be alone can’t you accept that
no more than you can accept my curiosity
that again
yes he made more than just his girl disappear
well i think you’re too sensitive
about this of all things
about this
it was a kiss
yes a kiss
more than a kiss to me
well who made you ruler of the universe
we all have our perspective
and yours is always right is that it
no i didn’t think so
sure you did look, there
she is oh i see her
at the back shes smiling
singing
singing again
she looks so happy finally
she does indeed
i wonder how she found this passion from nowhere
from you silly you taught her to listen
and you taught her kindness
yes i did
no kindness no music
you know you are wiser than i ever gave you credit for
you know i still love your hands
yes i know
good
Posted in Poetry on July 3, 2013| Leave a Comment »
thread
we met one night
under circumstances
(for her) ordinary.
she had been through this
many times. many
times to the hospital
since childhood.
when the needle entered her
skin for the 3rd time, i
already knew i’d missed.
she suggested someone else try.
i think the way i agreed
cemented our relationship
of the following 3 years.
when she died she asked
two things of me. to take
for her a photograph of the coast.
to meet her outside.
for months nothing
was all i could hear.
Posted in Poetry on July 3, 2013| Leave a Comment »
Posted in Poetry on July 3, 2013| Leave a Comment »
Although nihilism has always been
answerable to the inquiries of many
authors, its power was not fully feared
prior to Kierkegaard.
Husserl that joker, he wrote of an infinitely
expanding science that could enfetter an ideal
distinction between self and non self, as
both dialectic and death, it was supposed to
be the only way we could reflect on own actions,
our only entrance to history.
Sybilist contrarian!
Posted in Philosophy on July 1, 2013| Leave a Comment »
As authors, could we assume that our readers are at least as imaginative as we are? If they were, would they need us? And if not, with whom would we speak?
Posted in Poetry on July 1, 2013| Leave a Comment »
Incarcerated by narcissism I breathed my last,
and decayed with the half-life of blood which is said
to be fifty days more or less. Less if you have sickle
cell syndrome which causes for some periodic
intractable pain episodes and pneumonia fierce enough
to strangle a bird in flight. I said no art and let’s be gone,
vault the scree of another aimless mind, run so fast
not even the cowing trains I used to love on a Spanish night
could fill bones that delicate and facile.
Posted in Poetry on July 1, 2013| Leave a Comment »
apostasy, the finish line
cast off you fish and go home.
i’m a renunciate nun out on leave
and crazy as a door in spring over
sweet rain on the mission dell,
tracks where love ran away
with stories no one tells.
the end was yours, lord. game all done.
you teased, you taunted, your angels
served you well—
half paid by rage.
sorted,
by the storm.
metonymy4u 