A fascinating essay full of deep and interesting insights. And one which will bear a close rereading. Bear? Demands rather.
One thinks of how we are being manipulated by constant images of pedestrian distress from selected parts of the world, while others are totally neglected. And the ensuing kneejerk responses on the part of the mob. And one sees that all this is only too true. And how such techniques can be used to subvert truth and subserve the purposes of evil. Even against the natural interests of the people concerned.
I must have commented on this essay the first time it appeared. But I can't now get into those comments.
Here John Vervaeke's analysis of the distinction between 'bullshit' and 'lies' is surely of crucial importance. As always it is the sincerity of the poet that makes all the difference, as well as the ease with which any insincerity is detected in this difficult art, which, though an art, is also the least artificial of all arts, and hence the closest to truth. Shakespeare may have said that 'the truest poetry is the most feigning'. But he certainly didn't mean in that way - I mean the way of making lies more palatable and bullshit more effective. He meant in the way that art conceals art. And the better it is the more surely it does so.
And what greater instance of that than the best poets disparaging their own art? As Plato apparently does here. In point of fact, of course, as Plato well knew, once you escape the cave and see the world for what it really is, when you return to tell the other cave-dwellers of what you've seen, what other language can you use than that of poetry? What other language is sufficiently capable of the necessary nuances?
A fascinating essay full of deep and interesting insights. And one which will bear a close rereading. Bear? Demands rather.
One thinks of how we are being manipulated by constant images of pedestrian distress from selected parts of the world, while others are totally neglected. And the ensuing kneejerk responses on the part of the mob. And one sees that all this is only too true. And how such techniques can be used to subvert truth and subserve the purposes of evil. Even against the natural interests of the people concerned.
Indeed, John. The image wars are a real thing.
So Seasons Sound
I speak to them, I notice, in my strange
Yet native tongue, and let them guess what's new
Where out beyond the mythic land I range
And storied wonders cannot gloss the view.
So some against annulment preen their sound,
As if all slates were not to be wiped clean
Or honers of a bloodgift were less bound
For all their fanfare never to have been.
So seasons sound their trumpets and subside,
Inflate and wizen for sweet nature's sake,
And while swung oceans fling to either side
The latest chosen for a foamy wake
The news still spreads our goose is hard to cook
And no blank page will mark us in Time's book.----TM
Except that one side is refusing to demean themselves by taking part.
So Seasons Sound
I speak to them, I notice, in my strange
Yet native tongue, and let them guess what's new
Where out beyond the mythic land I range
And storied wonders cannot gloss the view.
So some against annulment preen their sound,
As if all slates were not to be wiped clean
Or honers of a bloodgift were less bound
For all their fanfare never to have been.
So seasons sound their trumpets and subside,
Inflate and wizen for sweet nature's sake,
And while swung oceans fling to either side
The latest chosen for a foamy wake
The news still spreads our goose is hard to cook
And no blank page will mark us in Time's book.---TM
I must have commented on this essay the first time it appeared. But I can't now get into those comments.
Here John Vervaeke's analysis of the distinction between 'bullshit' and 'lies' is surely of crucial importance. As always it is the sincerity of the poet that makes all the difference, as well as the ease with which any insincerity is detected in this difficult art, which, though an art, is also the least artificial of all arts, and hence the closest to truth. Shakespeare may have said that 'the truest poetry is the most feigning'. But he certainly didn't mean in that way - I mean the way of making lies more palatable and bullshit more effective. He meant in the way that art conceals art. And the better it is the more surely it does so.
And what greater instance of that than the best poets disparaging their own art? As Plato apparently does here. In point of fact, of course, as Plato well knew, once you escape the cave and see the world for what it really is, when you return to tell the other cave-dwellers of what you've seen, what other language can you use than that of poetry? What other language is sufficiently capable of the necessary nuances?
Outside the cave is another better cave, but still a cave. The best humans can do is approach truth.