He told me this morning the four train is beast. Not beast as in animal. But beast as in best. I had taken it on Sunday after a visit to my Shrink. (I capitalize her name to make it proper). So I knew what he was talking about.
Stones of Erasmus — Just plain good writing, teaching, thinking, doing, making, being, dreaming, seeing, feeling, building, creating, reading
22.1.11
The 4 Train On Sunday
Labels:
4 train,
derrida,
literary criticism,
movies,
new york city subway,
novel
I am an educator and a writer. I was born in Louisiana and I now live in the Big Apple. My heart beats to the rhythm of "Ain't No Place to Pee on Mardi Gras Day". My style is of the hot sauce variety. I love philosophy sprinkles and a hot cup of café au lait.
21.1.11
Video Repost: United States of Tara Theme Song
Do you know the opening theme song to the Showtimes series The United States of Tara? It took me awhile to figure it out.I like the opening song to the Showtime TV series The United States of Tara. But it took me a while, figuring out the lyrics, to realize the vocalist was singing, "ride." For a moment there I thought he was crooning, "rye," and I was like, 'is there a connection to Catcher?'
Showtime Television Series Created by Diablo Cody
Lyrics from the Opening Theme to United States of Tara:Open up the sky this mess is getting high
It’s windy and our family needs a ride
I know we’ll be just fine when we learn to love the ride
I know we’ll be fine when we learn to love the ride
I know we’ll be just fine when we learn to love the ride
Labels:
comedy,
lyrics,
Reposts,
showtime,
television,
united states of tara,
Video & Media
I am an educator and a writer. I was born in Louisiana and I now live in the Big Apple. My heart beats to the rhythm of "Ain't No Place to Pee on Mardi Gras Day". My style is of the hot sauce variety. I love philosophy sprinkles and a hot cup of café au lait.
20.1.11
Aesthetic Thursdays: Keith Haring
Labels:
aesthetics,
art,
grafitti,
new york city,
thursday
I am an educator and a writer. I was born in Louisiana and I now live in the Big Apple. My heart beats to the rhythm of "Ain't No Place to Pee on Mardi Gras Day". My style is of the hot sauce variety. I love philosophy sprinkles and a hot cup of café au lait.
19.1.11
Photo, Grand Central
Labels:
4 train,
grand central,
lubavitch,
men,
new york city transit,
photograph
I am an educator and a writer. I was born in Louisiana and I now live in the Big Apple. My heart beats to the rhythm of "Ain't No Place to Pee on Mardi Gras Day". My style is of the hot sauce variety. I love philosophy sprinkles and a hot cup of café au lait.
18.1.11
"The Red Wheelbarrow"; Or, A Poem About Poetry
In this post, I write about my favorite William Carlos William's poem — "The Red Wheelbarrow".
"The Red Wheelbarrow" by William Carlos Williams has fewer words than his other famous poem "This Is Just to Say." 28 compared to 16. "This is Just to Say" is simple: desire. "The Red Wheelbarrow" is complicated because it is not about desire. It is about language. And meaning what we say. A poem about poetry. I don't think I am saying anything different than what a poetry professor would say. It just seems right. My reading.
so much depends
upon a red wheel
barrow
glazed with rain
water
beside the white
chickens.
"The Red Wheelbarrow" by William Carlos Williams has fewer words than his other famous poem "This Is Just to Say." 28 compared to 16. "This is Just to Say" is simple: desire. "The Red Wheelbarrow" is complicated because it is not about desire. It is about language. And meaning what we say. A poem about poetry. I don't think I am saying anything different than what a poetry professor would say. It just seems right. My reading.
The Red Wheelbarrow
by William Carlos Williams
so much depends
upon a red wheel
barrow
glazed with rain
water
beside the white
chickens.
Labels:
Books & Literature,
literary criticism,
poem,
poems,
poetry,
poets,
william carlos williams
I am an educator and a writer. I was born in Louisiana and I now live in the Big Apple. My heart beats to the rhythm of "Ain't No Place to Pee on Mardi Gras Day". My style is of the hot sauce variety. I love philosophy sprinkles and a hot cup of café au lait.
17.1.11
This is Just to Say; Or, A Reflection on Desire
William Carlos William's very short poem "This Is Just To Say" frustrated me on my first read. Is this a poem? These few words? 28. Words. Seem to say everything. At least something. Not nothing. Something to say about desire, I take it? A fresh plum in the refrigerator that sits there expectantly, wanting to be eaten. I eat it. It is so cold, sweet, delicious.
The beauty of the poem is that it cannot be said any other way. What I mean to say is that if I wanted to tell someone about this poem I would have to read it out:
C'est juste pour dire
par William Carlos Williams
J'ai mangé
des prunes
... qui ont été
dans la glacière
et qui
tu as probablement
épargne
pour le petit dejeuner
Pardon moi
ils étaient délicieux
si doux
et si froid
Is my translation adequate? No matter.
The translation would have to be another poem. I mean. The same poem. Written under the same conditions. I am afraid I am not a poet. Even if I were a poet I would have to be convicted to write a poem such as this one. I would have to be William Carlos Williams. I can only present an ersatz -- both in translation and in paraphrase. It would have to be a translation written by a poet in the same mind as Williams. The translation would have to stand alone as a piece of poetry as simple and beautiful as the original English. A bad translation would take away from the poemness of the original. Worse than a bad translation is a bad paraphrase: to say, "Oh, that poem is just about some guy who ate his girlfriend's plum that was not his to take that he took out of the refrigerator." There are two things wrong with the previous statement. First, it is a gross estimation of affairs. Second, it adds its own interpretation that was intuited, absconded, I should say, from the original. I cannot intuit from a poem and call my intuition the poem. The intuition, that it was a girlfriend's plum, is an intuition that could be countered. It may have been a boyfriend's plum. It could have been a plum in the icebox at work.
The intimacy of the poem seems to suggest something intimate, something personal, something non-work related.
To take the plum from a stranger, a co-worker, even someone who lives with you, but is not a lover, is not what is evoked in this poem. I just know it is an intimate partaking of the plum uninvited. It is at the level of togetherness and separation that this poem speaks. The three ellipses in the first stanza attest to the hesitation I speak of. The probably hints at "knowing your habits," the "you" an instance of the intimate second person. The forgive is only to be understood by the confession itself: a declaration, not a confession. It is not so much the narrator admits to eating the plum but he declares -- and here is the simplicity — that they were "delicious / so sweet / and so cold." The guilt is not there. Not even in the forgiving. Is the narrator asking to be forgiven for his own desire? No. If he knew it to be wrong he would not have done it. Or he would have given another reason. "Forgive me / they were not mine/ but yours / not mine to take." There is no impunity either. This is not a poem about release from moral obligation. A simple declaration of desire. Desire qua desire. Desire that happens upon an encounter with an object of desire. The natural affinity of a person to sate his desire. And to realize, perhaps, afterward, oh wait, the desire is yours to partake as well. In my desiring the deliciousness, the sweetness, the coldness, I forgot about our togetherness, or co-habitation, our couplehood. And only here, in my presentation. It is an ersatz.
For William Carlos Williams's poem "The Red Wheelbarrow" click here.
The beauty of the poem is that it cannot be said any other way. What I mean to say is that if I wanted to tell someone about this poem I would have to read it out:
I cannot paraphrase it. It is the poem itself that utters its meaning. I could translate the poem.This Is Just To Say
by William Carlos Williams
I have eaten
the plums
...that were in
the icebox
and which
you were probably
saving
for breakfast
Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold
C'est juste pour dire
par William Carlos Williams
J'ai mangé
des prunes
... qui ont été
dans la glacière
et qui
tu as probablement
épargne
pour le petit dejeuner
Pardon moi
ils étaient délicieux
si doux
et si froid
Is my translation adequate? No matter.
The translation would have to be another poem. I mean. The same poem. Written under the same conditions. I am afraid I am not a poet. Even if I were a poet I would have to be convicted to write a poem such as this one. I would have to be William Carlos Williams. I can only present an ersatz -- both in translation and in paraphrase. It would have to be a translation written by a poet in the same mind as Williams. The translation would have to stand alone as a piece of poetry as simple and beautiful as the original English. A bad translation would take away from the poemness of the original. Worse than a bad translation is a bad paraphrase: to say, "Oh, that poem is just about some guy who ate his girlfriend's plum that was not his to take that he took out of the refrigerator." There are two things wrong with the previous statement. First, it is a gross estimation of affairs. Second, it adds its own interpretation that was intuited, absconded, I should say, from the original. I cannot intuit from a poem and call my intuition the poem. The intuition, that it was a girlfriend's plum, is an intuition that could be countered. It may have been a boyfriend's plum. It could have been a plum in the icebox at work.
The intimacy of the poem seems to suggest something intimate, something personal, something non-work related.
To take the plum from a stranger, a co-worker, even someone who lives with you, but is not a lover, is not what is evoked in this poem. I just know it is an intimate partaking of the plum uninvited. It is at the level of togetherness and separation that this poem speaks. The three ellipses in the first stanza attest to the hesitation I speak of. The probably hints at "knowing your habits," the "you" an instance of the intimate second person. The forgive is only to be understood by the confession itself: a declaration, not a confession. It is not so much the narrator admits to eating the plum but he declares -- and here is the simplicity — that they were "delicious / so sweet / and so cold." The guilt is not there. Not even in the forgiving. Is the narrator asking to be forgiven for his own desire? No. If he knew it to be wrong he would not have done it. Or he would have given another reason. "Forgive me / they were not mine/ but yours / not mine to take." There is no impunity either. This is not a poem about release from moral obligation. A simple declaration of desire. Desire qua desire. Desire that happens upon an encounter with an object of desire. The natural affinity of a person to sate his desire. And to realize, perhaps, afterward, oh wait, the desire is yours to partake as well. In my desiring the deliciousness, the sweetness, the coldness, I forgot about our togetherness, or co-habitation, our couplehood. And only here, in my presentation. It is an ersatz.
For William Carlos Williams's poem "The Red Wheelbarrow" click here.
Labels:
american,
Books & Literature,
criticism,
french,
poetry,
translation,
william carlos williams
I am an educator and a writer. I was born in Louisiana and I now live in the Big Apple. My heart beats to the rhythm of "Ain't No Place to Pee on Mardi Gras Day". My style is of the hot sauce variety. I love philosophy sprinkles and a hot cup of café au lait.
16.1.11
Printable Quotes from Stanley Cavell and On Everything From God to Art
In this post, I collect four quotes on art, transcendence, God, and meaning in the world from American philosopher Stanley Cavell. Can you link all of the quotes together?
Quotations
Stanley Cavell on Beckett and Positivism
"Positivism said that statements about God are meaningless; Beckett shows that they mean too damned much."
Quotations
Stanley Cavell on Beckett and Positivism
"Positivism said that statements about God are meaningless; Beckett shows that they mean too damned much."
-Stanley Cavell, "Ending the Waiting Game" reprinted in his collection of essays, Must We Mean What We Say? (p. 120)
Stanley Cavell on Philosophy and Art
***
Stanley Cavell On the Limits of the Frame
"The world of a painting is not continuous with the world of its frame; at its frame, a world finds its limits. We might say: a painting is a world; a photograph is of the world."
Stanley Cavell, The World Viewed (p. 24)
***
". . . philosophy, like art, is, and should be, powerless to prove its relevance: and that says something about the kind of relevance it wishes to have. All the philosopher, this kind of philosopher, can do is express, as fully as he can, his world, and attract our undivided attention to our own."
Stanley Cavell, "Aesthetic Problems of Modern Philosophy" reprinted in his collection of essays, Must We Mean What We Say? (p. 96)
sources: (1.) Cavell, Stanley. Must we mean what we say? : a book of essays. United Kingdom, Cambridge University Press, 2002. (2.) Cavell, Stanley. The World Viewed : Reflections on the Ontology of Film. New York: Viking Press, 1971. Print.
Labels:
beckett,
God,
philosophy of god,
positivism
I am an educator and a writer. I was born in Louisiana and I now live in the Big Apple. My heart beats to the rhythm of "Ain't No Place to Pee on Mardi Gras Day". My style is of the hot sauce variety. I love philosophy sprinkles and a hot cup of café au lait.
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