My house
Posted: November 19, 2012 Filed under: Heartland Leave a commentI live in my house as I live in my skin: I know more beautiful, more ample, more sturdy and more picturesque skins: but it would seem to me unnatural to exchange them for mine.
Primo Levi. 1989. My House, Other People’s Trades; Great Britain, Michael Joseph Ltd
When You Are Old
Posted: October 8, 2012 Filed under: Pomes Leave a commentWhen you are old and grey and full of sleep,
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;
How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true,
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face;
And bending down beside the glowing bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled
And paced upon the mountains overhead
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.
WB Yeats 1892
The Sacred and the Human
Posted: September 26, 2012 Filed under: Philosophy Leave a commentResentment remains a fundamental component in our social emotions, and it is widely prevalent in modern societies. The 20th century was the century of resentment. How else do you explain the mass murders of the communists and the Nazis, the seething animosities of Lenin and Hitler, the genocides of Mao and Pol Pot? The ideas and emotions behind the totalitarian movements of the 20th century are targeted: they identify a class of enemy whose privileges and property have been unjustly acquired. Religion plays no real part in the ensuing destruction, and indeed is usually included among the targets.
Roger Scruton, 2007. The Sacred and the Human. Prospect, August 1, 2007.
The lost highway
Posted: August 26, 2012 Filed under: The highway Leave a commentI’m a rolling stone, all alone and lost
For a life of sin, I have paid the cost
When I pass by, all the people say
“Just another guy on the lost highway”
Just a deck of cards and a jug of wine
And a woman’s lies make a life like mine
Oh, the day we met, I went astray
I started rollin’ down that lost highway
I was just a lad, nearly twenty-two
Neither good nor bad, just a kid like you
And now I’m lost, too late to pray
Lord, I’ve paid the cost on the lost highway
Now, boys, don’t start your ramblin’ round
On this road of sin or you’re sorrow bound
Take my advice or you’ll curse the day
You started rollin’ down that lost highway
Leon Payne, 1948. Recorded by Hank Williams, 1949.
The other
Posted: August 18, 2012 Filed under: Pomes Leave a commentThere are nights that are so still
that I can hear the small owl calling
far off and a fox barking
miles away. It is then that I lie
in the lean hours awake listening
to the swell born somewhere in the Atlantic
rising and falling, rising and falling
wave on wave on the long shore
by the village that is without light
and companionless. And the
thought comes
of that other being who is awake, too,
letting our prayers break on him,
not like this for a few hours,
but for days, years, for eternity.
RS Thomas. (Destinations, 1985) 1993. Collected Poems, 1945-1990. London: JM Dent
Liberty under law
Posted: July 25, 2012 Filed under: Philosophy Leave a commentThe object of this Essay is to assert one very simple principle, as entitled to govern absolutely the dealings of society with the individual in the way of compulsion and control, whether the means used be physical force in the form of legal penalties, or the moral coercion of public opinion.
That principle is, that the sole end for which mankind are warranted, individually or collectively, in interfering with the liberty of action of any of their number, is self-protection.
That the only purpose for which power can be rightfully exercised over any member of a civilized community, against his will, is to prevent harm to others. His own good, either physical or moral, is not sufficient warrant. He cannot rightfully be compelled to do or forbear because it will be better for him to do so, because it will make him happier, because, in the opinion of others, to do so would be wise, or even right… The only part of the conduct of anyone, for which he is amenable to society, is that which concerns others. In the part which merely concerns himself, his independence is, of right, absolute. Over himself, over his own body and mind, the individual is sovereign.
J S Mill. 1974. On Liberty. London: Penguin Books.
Why philosophy
Posted: July 24, 2012 Filed under: Philosophy Leave a commentWe are now in a position to see that the function of philosophy is wholly critical. In what exactly does its critical activity consist?
One way of answering this question is to say that it is the philosopher’s business to test the validity of our scientific hypotheses and everyday assumptions. But this view, though very widely held, is mistaken. If a man chooses to doubt the truth of all the propositions he ordinarily believes, it is not in the power of philosophy to reassure him. The most that philosophy can do, apart from seeing whether his beliefs are self-consistent, is to show what are the criteria to determine the truth or falsehood of any given proposition : and then, when the sceptic realises that certain observations would verify his propositions, he may also realize that he could make those observations, and so consider his original beliefs to be justified. But in such a case one cannot say that it is philosophy which justifies his beliefs. Philosophy merely shows him that experience can justify them.
A J Ayer. 1936. Language, Truth and Logic. London: Victor Gollancz.
Retort to the Anti-Abstractionists
Posted: July 20, 2012 Filed under: Pomes Leave a commentThe world had grown too complicated, so
He went back to the cause of things and laid
The fiery day within an early shade.
It was impossible to see things grow.
And this he knew and meant. Do not believe
This picture was achieved without much care.
The man drew dangerously toward despair.
Trying to show what inward eyes perceive.
The pattern now demands our firm attention,
But still spectators say, ‘What does it mean?
This is not anything that I have seen.’
There is so much the painter could not mention.
His picture shows the meaning, not the things-
The look without the face, flight without wings.
Elizabeth Jennings. 1967. Elizabeth Jennings Collected Poems 1967. London: Macmillan.
I dozed on my horse
Posted: July 19, 2012 Filed under: The highway Leave a commentI dozed on my horse –
half-dreaming, the moon distant,
breakfast tea steaming.
Basho
Tom Lowenstein. ed., 2007. Classic Haiku. UK: Duncan Baird Publishers.
The round moon climbs up Cold Mountain
Posted: July 18, 2012 Filed under: Pomes Leave a commentAs for me, I delight in the everyday Way
Among mist-wrapped vines and rocky caves.
Here in the wilderness, I am completely free,
With my friends, the white clouds, idling forever.
There are roads, but they do not reach the world;
Since I am mindless, who can rouse my thoughts?
On a bed of stone I sit alone in the night
While the round moon climbs up Cold Mountain
Hanshan (tr. Burton Watson)
Peter Harris. ed., 1999. Zen Poems. UK: Random House.
No Zen Mind 