Oct 2016
if a tree falls in a forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?
and a decent poem this could have been, but then two
distractions came -
one of less concern than the other:
a. a program on u.f.o. sightings,
not so much the subject matter,
but the journalistic ridicule of what was later
translated into a "sensible" branch
of phenomenology - the branch filled with
awe and fear - unlike the branch that deals
with: 'oh, there's but a simple explanation
behind it all',
the hardship of seemingly
good intentions in making others believe
something tends to end with a crucifixion in
one way or another - the lesser crucifixion?
evidently stigmatism -
perhaps a more unfathomable
experience - no hand in the cookie jar
but nonetheless the hand being caned -
later, much much later the talk of
ostracising ostriches - ducking for cover
when a less mainstream scientists comes
along and takes out equipment to
understand certain phenomena -
perhaps without the layman's blinking
incomprehensibility - but at least
not journalistic poking fun off -
or how the ostriches always talk about
the faculty of imagination overpowering
the senses - casually phrased: you must have
been imagining things... well... **** me!
why did they invent hallucinogenic drugs
given that imagination can suddenly invoke
a hallucination so potent?
b. first it started with your face,
then it started with a mirror
and a face in it in some nightclub bathroom -
some look terrible in mirrors
the movement disguises the many
apparently or non-apparent imperfections -
that trick of morality that beauty (is but
a short lived tyranny) needs to almost
nervously twitch for the participant in
a brief spell of Narcissism,
so they take the photo, call it a selfie and
say: if i look good in a selfie, the image
in the mirror doesn't matter...
they actually look better in
the mirror than in the selfie -
but then i decided i had enough of the culture,
only a day before, started to look more and
more at my shadow - maybe the
shape of the nearly skin head made me curious,
so i said to myself: tomorrow night,
when you're sober, go out and make an
album of photographs.
hence the distraction b... putting the album
together... from colour, to b & w aesthetic,
fiddling with enough exposure and contrast
to get the shapes out (not a brilliant camera) -
but apart from my anti-selfie i
took two photographs of modern relics -
they having dismantled them...
*phoneboxes!
i remember walking home with a few beers
when it started raining... good thing that
one of them had the top glass window
smashed and it wasn't there...
a great bar it turns out...
yep, a beer or two in a phonebox and
the nostalgia of having pockets filled with coins -
and that ramous number oh eight-hundred
R E V E R S E 0800 7 3 8 3 7 7 3
(just like the American say it) - on the other line
a person would hear the automated message:
someone is calling you from... would you like
to pay for the call?
relics, truly... or minibars when it rains
or cubicles to **** in... why not? anyone using it
for anything else?
and so it was today,
after watching the vice presidential discussion
i picked the quietest moment in the night
3:30 a.m., the quietest moment in the night -
30 minutes out, started counting the number of
steps it would take for a concrete shadow
under a streetlamp would fizzle out and become
less and less visible, until another streetlamp
gave back a full-bodied concrete form,
the less blurry and fizzling out after ~34 steps...
it takes about 34 steps for the shadow to fizzle
out when looking at it when created by
a passed streetlamp, as said, another streetlamp
replenishes the lost density of the shadow.
which brings me onto... overpriced books.
now, stopping drinking could help me buy socks,
or a new pair of shoes...
but...
i haven't picked up a book
recently that would grab my attention...
and the last time i wrote poetry while
also reading a book, not since the time of Ezra's Cantos,
and that's donkey's years away, it would seem.
but by chance i came across one...
the most expensive book i ever bought was in
Edinburgh, £28.50 and in brackets
[cheapest online £60.30 inc. shipment]...
but the book i'm going to reference seemingly
fell from the sky... Ponderings II - VI:
Black Notebooks 1931 - 1938 by Heidegger -
which stands at £30.10 from a second-party
retailer on Amazon... otherwise it's £50.00!
i am mad enough to buy this book, hence the strict
regime of alternative drinking nights...
but that's beside the point...
i don't care to compliment the translation,
this is the first insight into Heidegger stripped
bare from what i consider to be the hardest books
to read - the devilishness of youth -
2 ****** years and a few good books and much
poetry in between enabled i finished that
monstrosity that is being and time -
but these ponderings? a complete and utter
revelation! well... it's no good looking at it
if you haven't read the magnum opus -
i can say enough in that he does treat
aphorisms with a slight disdain, or rather as stepping
stones to create an alternative narrative,
aphorism that have a different impact in a sense
that they are not isolated to just one isolated incident,
i guess it's phenomenological in a sense
that phenomenons weave a narrative whether in
a cause and effect scenario, alternatively
either cause, or effect; i thought i write this
poem before writing something less lucid when
relaxing with the whiskey during the end of the shift...
and all because what's revealed from this
is how to answer the above question -
if a tree falls in a forest and no one is around
to hear it, does it make a sound?
if you look up all the Anglophone answers to
the question, you end up reaching the escape
route into buddhism, pop culture jokes
and a general impracticality of it all
being related to perception and that horrid word
reality.
i don't like this approach at all -
the easiest escape route is to approach buddhism -
that's the standard practice in English societies,
to escape into buddhism and chime jar jar jam and
joe who was later known of om -
the book in question (ponderings ii - vi)
shows the skeleton of what is otherwise an Alcatraz
of prose in that systematic height of composition,
and that's how the concept of dasein enters
like a behemoth - in these ponderings dasein
is stripped to the bare essential of: being & there -
that's how i saw that ****** question answered -
it's not really a question of perception
but a question of concern - and i have started
to really adore how the Germans always manage
to provide a higher tier of logic than the English,
the de facto argument of logic is:
if i use words, i am logical -
which doesn't not mean i categorising further
and suggesting i'm also rational,
because that's beside the point -
illogical expression is something incomprehensible
for a logical person: sign language -
but that's not to say something illogical
is irrational -
what i am suggesting is
that by using words i am logical -
i can also be irrational, but nonetheless logical,
in the same way as i can be rational
using the same starting point -
but in saying that i can be irrational
cannot mean that i'm illogical -
because i am still using the basic blueprint: words.
this is the avenue where this £30.10 priced book
on Amazon leaves you wandering -
but not on its own...
as already stated... and i never
thought i'd be able to say it: reading philosophy
in English has suddenly become comprehensible
and rather enjoyable to me...
by the looks of it... this will be the only
book on philosophy in English in my library
(the history of western philosophy doesn't count),
given that all the rest of them are in Polish...
well... with the exception of Nietzsche,
he's pompous enough to be read in English,
reflections from Scotland,
on the faded and ever more fading former
Empire.
and a decent poem this could have been, but then two
distractions came -
one of less concern than the other:
a. a program on u.f.o. sightings,
not so much the subject matter,
but the journalistic ridicule of what was later
translated into a "sensible" branch
of phenomenology - the branch filled with
awe and fear - unlike the branch that deals
with: 'oh, there's but a simple explanation
behind it all',
the hardship of seemingly
good intentions in making others believe
something tends to end with a crucifixion in
one way or another - the lesser crucifixion?
evidently stigmatism -
perhaps a more unfathomable
experience - no hand in the cookie jar
but nonetheless the hand being caned -
later, much much later the talk of
ostracising ostriches - ducking for cover
when a less mainstream scientists comes
along and takes out equipment to
understand certain phenomena -
perhaps without the layman's blinking
incomprehensibility - but at least
not journalistic poking fun off -
or how the ostriches always talk about
the faculty of imagination overpowering
the senses - casually phrased: you must have
been imagining things... well... **** me!
why did they invent hallucinogenic drugs
given that imagination can suddenly invoke
a hallucination so potent?
b. first it started with your face,
then it started with a mirror
and a face in it in some nightclub bathroom -
some look terrible in mirrors
the movement disguises the many
apparently or non-apparent imperfections -
that trick of morality that beauty (is but
a short lived tyranny) needs to almost
nervously twitch for the participant in
a brief spell of Narcissism,
so they take the photo, call it a selfie and
say: if i look good in a selfie, the image
in the mirror doesn't matter...
they actually look better in
the mirror than in the selfie -
but then i decided i had enough of the culture,
only a day before, started to look more and
more at my shadow - maybe the
shape of the nearly skin head made me curious,
so i said to myself: tomorrow night,
when you're sober, go out and make an
album of photographs.
hence the distraction b... putting the album
together... from colour, to b & w aesthetic,
fiddling with enough exposure and contrast
to get the shapes out (not a brilliant camera) -
but apart from my anti-selfie i
took two photographs of modern relics -
they having dismantled them...
*phoneboxes!
i remember walking home with a few beers
when it started raining... good thing that
one of them had the top glass window
smashed and it wasn't there...
a great bar it turns out...
yep, a beer or two in a phonebox and
the nostalgia of having pockets filled with coins -
and that ramous number oh eight-hundred
R E V E R S E 0800 7 3 8 3 7 7 3
(just like the American say it) - on the other line
a person would hear the automated message:
someone is calling you from... would you like
to pay for the call?
relics, truly... or minibars when it rains
or cubicles to **** in... why not? anyone using it
for anything else?
and so it was today,
after watching the vice presidential discussion
i picked the quietest moment in the night
3:30 a.m., the quietest moment in the night -
30 minutes out, started counting the number of
steps it would take for a concrete shadow
under a streetlamp would fizzle out and become
less and less visible, until another streetlamp
gave back a full-bodied concrete form,
the less blurry and fizzling out after ~34 steps...
it takes about 34 steps for the shadow to fizzle
out when looking at it when created by
a passed streetlamp, as said, another streetlamp
replenishes the lost density of the shadow.
which brings me onto... overpriced books.
now, stopping drinking could help me buy socks,
or a new pair of shoes...
but...
i haven't picked up a book
recently that would grab my attention...
and the last time i wrote poetry while
also reading a book, not since the time of Ezra's Cantos,
and that's donkey's years away, it would seem.
but by chance i came across one...
the most expensive book i ever bought was in
Edinburgh, £28.50 and in brackets
[cheapest online £60.30 inc. shipment]...
but the book i'm going to reference seemingly
fell from the sky... Ponderings II - VI:
Black Notebooks 1931 - 1938 by Heidegger -
which stands at £30.10 from a second-party
retailer on Amazon... otherwise it's £50.00!
i am mad enough to buy this book, hence the strict
regime of alternative drinking nights...
but that's beside the point...
i don't care to compliment the translation,
this is the first insight into Heidegger stripped
bare from what i consider to be the hardest books
to read - the devilishness of youth -
2 ****** years and a few good books and much
poetry in between enabled i finished that
monstrosity that is being and time -
but these ponderings? a complete and utter
revelation! well... it's no good looking at it
if you haven't read the magnum opus -
i can say enough in that he does treat
aphorisms with a slight disdain, or rather as stepping
stones to create an alternative narrative,
aphorism that have a different impact in a sense
that they are not isolated to just one isolated incident,
i guess it's phenomenological in a sense
that phenomenons weave a narrative whether in
a cause and effect scenario, alternatively
either cause, or effect; i thought i write this
poem before writing something less lucid when
relaxing with the whiskey during the end of the shift...
and all because what's revealed from this
is how to answer the above question -
if a tree falls in a forest and no one is around
to hear it, does it make a sound?
if you look up all the Anglophone answers to
the question, you end up reaching the escape
route into buddhism, pop culture jokes
and a general impracticality of it all
being related to perception and that horrid word
reality.
i don't like this approach at all -
the easiest escape route is to approach buddhism -
that's the standard practice in English societies,
to escape into buddhism and chime jar jar jam and
joe who was later known of om -
the book in question (ponderings ii - vi)
shows the skeleton of what is otherwise an Alcatraz
of prose in that systematic height of composition,
and that's how the concept of dasein enters
like a behemoth - in these ponderings dasein
is stripped to the bare essential of: being & there -
that's how i saw that ****** question answered -
it's not really a question of perception
but a question of concern - and i have started
to really adore how the Germans always manage
to provide a higher tier of logic than the English,
the de facto argument of logic is:
if i use words, i am logical -
which doesn't not mean i categorising further
and suggesting i'm also rational,
because that's beside the point -
illogical expression is something incomprehensible
for a logical person: sign language -
but that's not to say something illogical
is irrational -
what i am suggesting is
that by using words i am logical -
i can also be irrational, but nonetheless logical,
in the same way as i can be rational
using the same starting point -
but in saying that i can be irrational
cannot mean that i'm illogical -
because i am still using the basic blueprint: words.
this is the avenue where this £30.10 priced book
on Amazon leaves you wandering -
but not on its own...
as already stated... and i never
thought i'd be able to say it: reading philosophy
in English has suddenly become comprehensible
and rather enjoyable to me...
by the looks of it... this will be the only
book on philosophy in English in my library
(the history of western philosophy doesn't count),
given that all the rest of them are in Polish...
well... with the exception of Nietzsche,
he's pompous enough to be read in English,
reflections from Scotland,
on the faded and ever more fading former
Empire.
