Thanksgiving Is Ruined

The Personal is Political. The Political is Personal.

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?
December 31, 2007
die year die

3 NY'sE quotes:

The Hollies:
It's been work.
from their simple and beautiful "Hard Hard Year"

(off of the June 1966 album Would You Believe?,

and featuring an astonishingly
"maybe my mind split open"-worthy
[Why the "maybe," in the second chorus?

Why the uncertainty about whether the event took place?

Realism, probably.

It seems verisimilitudinous to portray someone whose mind split open, on subsequent consideration of the question of whether it happened it all, to be of a divided mind.]

(esp. for its release date)

guitar solo from Tony Hicks)
[The song can be heard here]

Henri Michaux:
Impossible to reach any definite conclusion because my arguments were shifting all the time, continually changing.
from his Miserable Miracle (tr. Louise     Varèse, (City Lights Books, 1963)

The above passage comes from the most frightening chapter of the book, entitled "Experimental Schizophrenia," in which Michaux accidentally doses himself with six times his intended measure of mescaline, then describes the experience.

TiR will strive to spare the reader its dumb observations about exactly how and why this chapter is so terrifying, and the possible implications thereof for the annihilation of the Bergsonian durée.]
[We are happy to discover now that NYRB put out a new edition of this one, a few years back.

The text of Chapter 5 is here.]

But wishes are not horses, this
Annus is not mirabilis;
Day breaks upon the world we know
Of war and wastefulness and woe . . .

O source of equity and rest . . .
Disturb our negligence and chill,
Convict our pride of its offence
In all things, even penitence,
Instruct us in the civil art
Of making from the muddled heart
A desert and a city where
The thoughts that have to labor there
May find locality and peace,
And pent-up feelings their release,
Send strength sufficient for our day,
And point our knowledge on its way.
from "New Year Letter (January 1, 1940)"
dedicated to Elizabeth Mayer
[This poem can be read almost every new year's eve, and something new, relevant to the moment and interesting successfully can be found
not least of which is another occasion on which to look up the definition of the word "psychopompos."]

live, year, live