Our Current Policy

Humanities and Fine Art



OUR CURRENT POLICY
(Polite, Policed, Political)
is based on
Denial
Illusion
Pandering.

I lifted this sentence (modified,
reconfigured, reformatted) from
my humanities colleague, Dr. K.
—out of the Asheville Citizen
Times (July 6): his fine estimation,
analysis, & recommendations re: .
energy.

Imagine:

if I could read that, construe that,
in my own terms as mere
description
no Judgment here;
no condemnation.

I’d have to rub-a-dub scrub those words:
wash that scam right out of my hair. Hose
down them negative connotations: scour
the stigma, purge & purify till they were
sweet as a baby’s but squeaky clean:

DENIAL? ...sure, of course.
ILLUSION? well, duh!
PANDERING? how could it
be otherwise—you got a problem
with that?

Wouldn’t that make a difference that
made a difference in my converse- action?
Could I talk with any body? Walk?

Ingredients

To make some Describe Mode:
you need Brillo, Old Dutch Cleanser
& old fashioned Elbow Grease



I’m here to Wash Off the
“damned moral sense”
so as to inaugurate
Pure Aesthetics
for crying out loud:
“the view”
a fine art!

@@@@

IT’s A GOOD THING
our energy crisis.

Wrestling, wrangling, writhing, wretched: me
caught in Mother Earth’s Economics Summit,
damnit —her version of sustainability imposing
itself on my own received traditions & I got to
be saying: what? what the…? what the hell?
UNCLE!
UNCLE!.


That’s me in denial;
That’s me in illusion—
pandering like a son of a gun:
abusing my religion..
Gnosis
“Men go through the world each musing
on a great fable, dramatically pictured
and rehearsed before him. If you speak to
man, he turns his eyes from his own scene,
slower or faster endeavors to comprehend
what you say. When you have done speaking,
he returns to his private music.
…All parties: in a private box with the
whole play performed before himself
solus. (RWE)

The Narcissus who knows he’s a narcissist
is no longer narcissistic in the common sense,
well: narcissistic, sure, but not Narcissistic.

Sisyphus knowing better is not the Sisyphus
who doesn’t—but he’s still pushing his stone.

Procrustean hospitality is always hostile even
after I know it & will still cut & stretch
accordingly but no longer not that
innocent, knowing better.

Cement of Inertia. –Is it not a rare contrivance
that lodged the due inertia in every creature,
the conserving, resisting energy, the anger
at being waked or changed? (RWE)

I used to not know I was deaf, dumb and blind.
Now I do: all 3. I didn’t know I was solipsistic,
but I do now: solipsist like any thing. I don’t
deny I deny I’m in denial, damnit: under an
illusion thinking I’m ludic. I admit it.

Panderer? But of course—pimp,
procurer, catering to my
lower tastes

Altogether independent of the intellectual
force in each is the pride of opinion, the
security that we are right. Not the feeblest
granddame, not a mowing idiot, but uses
what spark of perception and faculty is left,
to chuckle and triumph over the absurdities
of all the rest. Difference from me is the
measure of absurdity. Not one has a misgiving
of being wrong… (RWE Sept, 1845)

xxxooo, Presbyter