Thursday is overcast, gray. The wind is gusting, a gentle breeze by comparison to the 60 mph winds of last night. December, tornado season? Mayfield, Kentucky. It appears that a giant blender descended from the sky, churning to rubble neighborhoods and buildings… The candle factory, ranked as Graves County’s third-largest private employer, is gone. …
What is beautifulis the object in its drapery,under its veil, in its hideout. …The task of art criticism is notto lift the veil but rather,through the most precise knowledge of itas a veil, to raise itself for the first timeto the true view of the beautiful. …The only way to view beautyas a secretis…
I think grumpy comes with the territory. [I for one was rather grumpy following Cindy challenging all of us to actually DO something. But that’s a rant for another day.] Here’s a subject I’m certain Tobin will have a ready, useful opinion about: I went on a photography outing last Thursday; not an easy…
There’s no“reset button” for civilization,and no viable planfor transforming global infrastructure,agriculture, and energy networksin the next ten to twenty years.And while smart, dedicated, and thoughtful peoplefumble with political machinery that doesn’t work,such as carbon-pricing markets,protests and the United Nations,all of us in the Global Northgo about our business,driving, flying, leaving lights on,running heaters and…
More from East Coker by T. S. Eliot winner of the Nobel prize for literature… In that open field If you do not come too close, if you do not come too close, On a summer midnight, you can hear the music Of the weak pipe and the little drum And see them dancing…
I In my beginning is my end. In successionHouses rise and fall, crumble, are extended,Are removed, destroyed, restored, or in their placeIs an open field, or a factory, or a by-pass. Old stone to new building, old timber to new fires,Old fires to ashes, and ashes to the earthWhich is already flesh, fur and…
Canticle By Wendell Berry What death means is not this – the spirit, triumphant in the body’s fall, praising its absence, feeding on music. If life can’t justify and explain itself, death can’t justify and explain it. A creed and a grave never did equal life of anything. Yellow flowers sprout in the clefts…
Brain fog this morning. My mind felt on the edge of malfunction, like a slowing old computer hard-drive memory disc. I entered Starbucks without wearing a mask. Fortunately a spare mask was in my computer bag. I remind myself to “settle down,” as if a parent were instructing a small child. Aided by the…
Those lyric lines filled the atmosphere of the Starbucks patron seating area. Under present conditions such language seems to be the apex of irony. On a two hour zoom call yesterday President Biden is reported to have ‘warned’ Putin of Russia that if he attacks Ukraine, he will be sorry… And so goes the…
January 8th will be the birthday of Elvis Presley. Plato was no fan of poetry. Plato, a professor of philosophy, Athenian who lived 4th Century BCE, expressed aversion to the arts. Plato was pointed in his criticism of poetry. He believed that poetry especially when combined with the emotional stimulus of music was dangerous. …
