This poem is absolutely impeccable! It begins with a delightful callback to Sylvia Plath and her “Cut” poem. Despite my admiration of Plath’s work, I can honestly say that I think this poem is far better than “Cut”. Ms. Miller maintains an impressive amount of control throughout this emotive piece, and she creates wonderfully bold imagery with great skill. Thank you, David, for giving such a fine piece some well-deserved exposure.
The debt to Sylvia Plath is perhaps a bit too obvious. But otherwise the poem is well-crafted and at least not as hysterical as her predecessor sometimes tended to be. Instead it comes across as a cool appraisal of a difficult situation. Emotion recollected in tranquillity rather than tranquillity recollected in emotion. Which is as it should be.
Disenchantment with the world comes through. That most seem content with the world is ironic, since it inflicts nothing but harm on everyone forced into it. One would have to be vastly more masochistic than I to see the place as anything but an incorrigible perpetrator of the highest of crimes. All lifeforms are Nature's tools for producing new prey. Montaigne says nature mocks mankind, but that it to say the very least: it hungers to devour you, craves the taste of you, wants its smorgasbord always fully stocked, nor only with man, but with all living things.
The poem could be more finely chiseled, but the theme is a good one. Think about it harder, and you'll find lots more than dysphoria to object to. Of course truth is always up against huge walls of resistance here, where illusion and blindness are bound to prevail. Still, however futile, it is best to characterize reality accurately. Here's a poem by Wallace Stevens that acknowledges the futility of representing things as they are:
I don't know, Tom. Coming to the truth that the world is harmful and dangerous seems pretty easy and obvious from an immediate standpoint. Almost anyone with a difficult life could come to that conclusion. They don't need to be philosophers or serious thinkers of any kind. There are more than enough tragedies and bitter folks to support the argument.
But just stopping there seems like a pretty lazy and slothful place to halt one's spiritual and philosophical journey.
It seems a lot more difficult to wrestle with something like the Book of Job, or what Leibniz described as the fact that we are in best of all possible worlds. But there are rewards for difficult spiritual and philosophical journeys, as opposed to taking the easy way out.
The Gnostics believed that the universe was inherently flawed, which was justification for the many evils in the world, including participating in them. But this assumes man knows better how to fashion the universe than, say, He who created it.
This is a pretty bold claim, because one would have to offer a better fashioned universe, assuming one has all the foresight and knowledge needed to foresee all possibilities and consequences of every kind and under every circumstance conceivable.
It's a tall order!
I think humility is a surer path on such matters.
The universe is not irrational and it was made the way it was for a reason.
My two cents, though you'd get the same from Leibniz or Plato, among many others.
I’d argue that a lot more evil stems from these kinds of perverse philosophies than the mistakes of regular joes, or the defects of the universe and its creation.
As the story goes, God allowed the snake into the garden. Man must make his own way.
The consequence is we can’t blame God or the universe for the shortcomings of men. Woe upon him who curses God (or the universe) for the faults of men.
In more Shakespearean language, : “The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, but in our selves, that we are underlings.”
The fault is not the tools', but the tools' designer and user. The tools merely carry out their prescribed functions, built, as they commonly are, to serve the designer's design. The nature of the designer is cannibalistic.
Much silence of late I've noticed. How are the subscriberships faring? Mammon rules of course, and becoming a moviestar could advance its cause. Hoping your movie will make you rich, ca va sans dire.
This poem is absolutely impeccable! It begins with a delightful callback to Sylvia Plath and her “Cut” poem. Despite my admiration of Plath’s work, I can honestly say that I think this poem is far better than “Cut”. Ms. Miller maintains an impressive amount of control throughout this emotive piece, and she creates wonderfully bold imagery with great skill. Thank you, David, for giving such a fine piece some well-deserved exposure.
The debt to Sylvia Plath is perhaps a bit too obvious. But otherwise the poem is well-crafted and at least not as hysterical as her predecessor sometimes tended to be. Instead it comes across as a cool appraisal of a difficult situation. Emotion recollected in tranquillity rather than tranquillity recollected in emotion. Which is as it should be.
Disenchantment with the world comes through. That most seem content with the world is ironic, since it inflicts nothing but harm on everyone forced into it. One would have to be vastly more masochistic than I to see the place as anything but an incorrigible perpetrator of the highest of crimes. All lifeforms are Nature's tools for producing new prey. Montaigne says nature mocks mankind, but that it to say the very least: it hungers to devour you, craves the taste of you, wants its smorgasbord always fully stocked, nor only with man, but with all living things.
The poem could be more finely chiseled, but the theme is a good one. Think about it harder, and you'll find lots more than dysphoria to object to. Of course truth is always up against huge walls of resistance here, where illusion and blindness are bound to prevail. Still, however futile, it is best to characterize reality accurately. Here's a poem by Wallace Stevens that acknowledges the futility of representing things as they are:
Gubbinal
That strange flower, the sun,
Is just what you say.
Have it your way.
The world is ugly,
And the people are sad.
That tuft of jungle feathers,
That animal eye,
Is just what you say.
That savage of fire,
That seed,
Have it your way.
The world is ugly,
And the people are sad.
I don't know, Tom. Coming to the truth that the world is harmful and dangerous seems pretty easy and obvious from an immediate standpoint. Almost anyone with a difficult life could come to that conclusion. They don't need to be philosophers or serious thinkers of any kind. There are more than enough tragedies and bitter folks to support the argument.
But just stopping there seems like a pretty lazy and slothful place to halt one's spiritual and philosophical journey.
It seems a lot more difficult to wrestle with something like the Book of Job, or what Leibniz described as the fact that we are in best of all possible worlds. But there are rewards for difficult spiritual and philosophical journeys, as opposed to taking the easy way out.
The Gnostics believed that the universe was inherently flawed, which was justification for the many evils in the world, including participating in them. But this assumes man knows better how to fashion the universe than, say, He who created it.
This is a pretty bold claim, because one would have to offer a better fashioned universe, assuming one has all the foresight and knowledge needed to foresee all possibilities and consequences of every kind and under every circumstance conceivable.
It's a tall order!
I think humility is a surer path on such matters.
The universe is not irrational and it was made the way it was for a reason.
My two cents, though you'd get the same from Leibniz or Plato, among many others.
If the Gnostics thought evil was justified and should be "participated in," they needed a refresher course in ethics.
You’d be surprised, Tom.
I’d argue that a lot more evil stems from these kinds of perverse philosophies than the mistakes of regular joes, or the defects of the universe and its creation.
As the story goes, God allowed the snake into the garden. Man must make his own way.
The consequence is we can’t blame God or the universe for the shortcomings of men. Woe upon him who curses God (or the universe) for the faults of men.
In more Shakespearean language, : “The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, but in our selves, that we are underlings.”
The fault is not the tools', but the tools' designer and user. The tools merely carry out their prescribed functions, built, as they commonly are, to serve the designer's design. The nature of the designer is cannibalistic.
I mean, depending on your worldview, you could look at a hammer and think it’s a weapon for killing or a tool for building.
Ethics is simply a matter of custom. Satanists have ethics; colonialists have ethics; imperialists have ethics.
Does that really solve the issue?
When you regard every conscious, feeling thing as a compagnon de misere, no less pitiable than yourself, you'll be a model of ethical virtue.
Much silence of late I've noticed. How are the subscriberships faring? Mammon rules of course, and becoming a moviestar could advance its cause. Hoping your movie will make you rich, ca va sans dire.
Almost certainly somebody was using him.