Thursday, August 25, 2005

The divinity of chaos

[The EZLN and other zapatista translations are all in the Library, including a few new ones, and the sherry is on the sideboard. Help yourselves.]

I’ve been much too long out of the Parlour, and it had nothing to do with fun, I’m afraid. Such a black cloud this can be, those things that grab you by the throat and try to shake joy and pleasure out of body and soul.

Or, just a thought. They do have “child locks” of some sort for computers, no? I think it might be a blessing if someone were to devise a “google lock.” Thus preventing some of us from spending our lives on endlessly lateral facts - the Black Hole of pattern recognition.

And forcing some of us back to the postulate that sometimes a cigar is indeed just a cigar, and we might instead remember the virtues of clarity and cognition and contemplation.

No, I’m not referencing myself here, because the only time I have for googling is for the daily round of queries from friends and cohorts [the “do you knows” and “can you finds” and “I needs”, sigh].

Facts are just facts. They aren’t dreams or thoughts or the grand stuff of love and revolt. And endless googling, I fear, can, in the wrong hands, be the cyber-equivalent of globalization. Replacing local truths with global gossip, serious thought with wire feeds.

Or, even better: whatever.

Especially since I realize that no one, anywhere, has the vaguest clue whereof I speak. Which is a terrible pity, in fact, but, then again, c’est la guerre. Deep cover. What else can a poor girl do?

Sweetness and light, perhaps.

Particularly given the rolling blackouts; children who set their mobiles to Later…Maybe When I’m Dead Bored or Broke; the absolute dearth of beguiling flats in Barcelona a birdsong away from La Boquería; former lovers who suddenly resurface as if the Past were Prologue and not just horrid past [and no, dear B, I’m not referencing thou, sigh], and a fair few other tedious local truths.

Sweetness and light, my sweet derriere. The hour has come to take my own good, often proffered, advice. There are moments when patisserie and sunshine are not the answer.

There is no answer, of course, but there are revels to be had, as well as wine and Mysteries and chaos and even, so I’m told, ecstasy. Part of the riddle to be solved. No facts, but an abundance of passion, danger, and truth.

The quintessentially subversive, shape-shifting, paradoxical, priapic god. The one who appears, suddenly and terribly and in the flesh. The one all women want.

Most dear Dionysus.


Anonymous said...

Take heart, querida Irlandesa, you are not alone. 'Tis the season: all around me hearts are in flux -- abandoned, trifled with, or numb -- while the onslaught of many dark and terrible things grow, not least the latest passage of terrifying and oppressive legislation [here in the US] as the war of the powerful against the rest of us finds its many faces.

There remains, however, bittersweet, glorious beauty -- through which we can perhaps find the substance and sustenance to draw our lines and carry on with our various struggles.

Anónimo/a de nuevo

Comrada B said...

Revolutionary Love
The one that speaks to all Heart's for Love of all that Lives yet a Triffle when a Ruse

The abyss of Lie revels under the Sanctimonious blanket of Poet Poison

A Death March Brightness blackened by Souless Routine of Rulers Torture Refined

Barytis Heart Ripped displayed on a Stick for to Appease All Gods

St. Jude No Ear Fear Not Christopher lost the Map The Barry Manipulated by The Medusa

TripleJ said...

Holy Molly Irl! "Horrid past" lovers coming back to haunt you?

How dare they? Don't they know it is expressly forbidden by the Geneva convention on the rules of love and war?

Death to all "horrid past" lovers I say (or at least a very stern talking to :^).

Spark said...

yeah diggin it

As Nietzsche said "you have to have chaos inside of you to give birth to a dancing star" :)

But also maybe Apollo is part of who we are - and to find peace and understanding maybe we have to come to terms with, and ultimately embrace, both sides.

To my mind good art, like the well balanced human condition ( a rare breed I accept ), comes from a golden balance between order and chaos.. and with a human between self and world/universe, boundaries and intimations of what is truly boundless. Or for the Buddha-Dharma inclined, as the Venerable Gary Snyder once said about freedom: "the elegant discipline of wild mind"

And Apollo just loves that discipline!

That said, Apollo, beloved of many a control freak dictators everywhere, does have a lot to answer for - Hitler, Louis XIV, Napolean, Caesar; bloody Apollo Fuhrers the lot of 'em.

And what about poot old Marsyas! Flayed alive by Apollo himslef for daring to show off his Dionysian flute playing genius. Sounds like a mythological case of the Romans vs Free Wild Man Jesus again to me.

So, if in doubt, I agree with yr slant Irl: go with Dionysius I say, and with good old Robbie Burns "Liberty's a Glorious Feast" but on balance for a truly sane life probably best is both, and, deepest and most mysterious of all, neither.

respiro amare

y yo quiero la misma para ti

Greetings from London

Anonymous said...

This human body is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy,a depression,a meanness
Some momentary awareness comes
As an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all
Even if they're a crowd of sorrows
Who violently sweep your house
Empty of its furniture.

Still treat each guest honourably;
He may be clearing you out
For some new delight.

The dark thought,the shame,the malice,
Meet them at the door laughing
And invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,
Because each has been sent
As a guide from beyond.

Spark said...

Truly beautiful words from anon..

I wonder, has Rumi been resurrected from the grave? I certainly hope so as we need him.. I reckon tis true that beauty can save us, by showing us how to love

Some Rumi4 you:

Someone asked "What is Love?"

God replied, "You will know when you have lost yourself in Me"


I've been living on the lip of insanity. I knock on the door.. it opens

I've been knocking from the inside!!

In Life