Bertrand Russell
Pulled a muscle
What a bother
What a fussle.
Wittgenstein
Used to pine
For his train set
He stole mine.
Alfred North Whitehead
Said he had decided
To adopt fifteen spiders
To act as advisors
Rudolfo Carnap
Did away with the cat’s nap
The cat was so tired
They had him rewired
Charles Dickens wrote books
In parts , for their looks.
Thomas Hardy was cold
But ever so bold.
He got married twice
Unlike Jesus Christ
If my brain gets any bigger,
it won’t fit in my head
With logic and with rigor
I’ll prove that I am dead.
So I shan’t pay no taxes
Nor vote for Donald Trump
I’ll never look up praxis
Nor find a worrying lump
I’ll never see a medic
Nor lose a wisdom tooth
No disease endemic
Will get me,that’s the truth.
I’ll never have to marry
I’ll sleep with whom I choose
I’ll never need to hurry
For I’ve no time to lose
When we think about it
We would be better off
Do not ever doubt it
There,that is enough
Looking through the window of your eyes
I am looking in and you look out
Love can make eyes widen without cries
What you give me now is a surprise
Love enough to live free from great doubt
Looking- glass clear window of your eyes
Your head is free from rust,spiders and flies
I am humming music from “The Trout”
Love can make eyes gladden with surprise
Let me share your merriment and cries
Let me know what you know all about
Looking out the window of your eyes
Some of us can love without reprise
Actors may pretend ,we’ll see them out
Love can make eyes laugh with its surprise
Some fail on occasions, others rise
We obey the law of love without
Sparkling from the windows of your eyes
Love has made them brighter ,no surprise”
Another person whom we get to know can be a window to a different world.For this to function we have to realise that we are all different and we are all of value.
Even within one culture big differences are there between one person and another.
And in London where I live we have people from hundreds of other countries and we British ourselves are multicultural.Some people find this frightening and our ancestors probably only met people from their own village.
But looked at another way,seeing how a friend from another culture views his/her world is enlightening even if only to give a new perspective on our own culture which we may be unaware of.We may see life from a new perspective.These metaphors from Art are very useful.The artist must see as well as possible and in different ways.So in that sense Art is important not just for pleasure but for living a reasonable life
We may in a metaphorical sense look through this friend’s eyes and see a new world.
Or we may scoff and say how silly and that our culture and our own self are the only ones of value.
Or we may wander on,not really looking so not seeing and so miss many chances of enlightenment
And enlightenment is the best that a new window can offer us.How full of metaphors our languages are.How poetic.
“Holier than thou” is an interesting phrase.Holiness was a state we were taught we should aim for.But how should we aim for it? Can one become holy by will power?
I suspect not.Though one could be wicked by will power though I suspect most people don’t usually want to be wicked.And I don’t believe babies are born evil as I was taught.But we do wicked things.Pride is often involved.So what are some qualities that may help us to become ,not holy perhaps, but better.The first is one thing doctors have to agree to:
Do no harm.
How can we do no harm? Well paying attention is a possible beginning.If we are not attentive to ourself and the lives around us we don’t have the basis for choosing how to act.Then there is the quality of our perceptions.To a large extent these may have been formed by our experiences in infancy.If we are insecure and anxious we will perceive mainly danger,This leads me to think that we need to gain trust in either God,the Universe,our deeper selves….. something beyond us.If we have little trust we will live on guard and see things in relation to our own safety…..Somehow we will have to move to a wider perception/How many of us truly see others as people who are just as valuable,just as interesting,just as worthy of respect as we are.That when we kill a person physically or emotionally we are killing a whole world.Each person has their own world…..I believe.
If we trust we can perceive and as we perceive so we can act justly, caringly or in the best way possible towards that person.And we hope to receive it back.There is also grace which is a gift… if we live well and are open then grace may come from another source which may help us.But only if we are empty enough for it to come in.Being “full of oneself” is unlikely ro be good.Self forgetting, absorbtion in the other,the world,a task,a creation may be the best part of life.
S
I found it interesting to make a link between being able to be aware of other people as real people like ourselves and being secure in our inner being.That security or trust enables us to have an attitude called,”Submission to the will of God” in Christian teaching.I am sure it is common to many other religions especially Judaism.And for atheists it can be acceptance of reality,
Without trust in others, life is much harder as we are always concerned with keeping ourselves safe.I am not sure how much we can change our attitude from Fear to Trust.And I read today that paranoia is becoming more widespread probably because the government and other people can spy on us easily or find out where we are etc with modern technology
I recall a friend of mine dying when I was 15.We were taken to the Requiem Mass.I just recall the priest saying in the sermon something from the Bible
he Lord has given and the Lord has taken away
Blessed be the name of the Lord.
In other words,we can’t understand.Life and death are a mystery but we accept this is the will of God
At the time I’m not sure if I believed it.But i think acceptance of pain and grief helps us to cope with it even with the terrible suffering with losing a child.I was the last classmate to see her.It was late October.We left school and walked about 1/2 mile.I lived there but she had to then catch a bus fro a 4-mile journey
I still see her smiling face.Eight days later she died.
When you suffer a lot it’s hard to trust God,the Universe and all else.And depending on the circumstances it’s easy to be bitter or vengeful.But that will not help.
What I am wondering is:
How much can we change our attitudes by will power.Pr is there another way of changing?
Changing the way we see something may give us a different attitude.Talking to a good person may help.Sometimes we can only endure patiently.Sometimes God comes to us in the wilderness of tragedy,grief and pain.Because he can get in when we are still and silent.
I suppose going to the desert or on a Retreat may give us the same opportunity.Sometimes we can’t verbalise our suffering but that is not a problem.I found after seeking many ways out that as many people have said:~
The way out is through.
But we struggle like hell to avoid it!
Don’t buy directly from the maker.I did and I have had 8 weeks of trouble.Now they say if I send it back for repair and they can’t find a fault I will have to pay £20 for them to bring it back.Or they may decide I have damaged the socket by pushing the adapter cord in too hard or too far.I have never had a problem before.
It gets through batteries very rapidly and though advertised as solar it makes only a tiny difference if you let light onto it
The sound is very good but after all these phone calls my voice is wearing out!
Buy through Amazon or some good retailer and they will probably give you another immediately.Amazon did that with my Chromebook.Maybe Roberts are in financial trouble.I doubt it they make their radios here in any case people are into internet and blue tooth.
I have tried to keep you from the storm
I have wondered how to give you peace
I have tried to keep you from alarm
I have hoped to keep your spirit calm
I have hoped your anguish can be eased
I have tried to keep you from the storm
With my love,I hoped to keep you warm
With my love, I hoped this life would please
I have tried to keep you from alarm
Yet your own defences are deformed
A wall, like Israel ‘s , built from stone not trees
I have tried to keep you from the storm
But like the Berlin wall you are well armed
In nightmare scenes ,you shoot yourself and me
I have tried to keep you from alarm
Fantasy’s more real,which is its charm.
Your ears are blocked to any kind of plea
I have tried to keep you from the storm
I have tried to keep you from alarm
{The novel by Joseph Conrad called the Heart of Darkness is about how in fact the so called civilised peopl are worse than than those they call savages.It is set in the then Belgian Congo]
Indifference tolls the knell of humankind
So easy just to fold our eyes away
We often self-deceive or mimic blind;
Hitler goosestepped ,foolish Pope but prayed
How dear the candlelight on Christmas trees
while tender children widen joyous eyes
Yet for the other,we will hear no pleas.
At every heartbeat “foreign” babies die..
Can we love those with dissimilar genes
Jesus spoke of Arab aiding Jew
Is the underlying truth not seen?
Jesus said the chosen are but few
We split the world into a double view
The good, the bad,the heart of darkness new
Hurt round puzzles
Illbred Course Cited
Wits may sign
Bored Venison
Well ,I am a Wordsmith.
P. S. Hell in pot
Sybil Wrath
Ted’s News.
Peel on promise.
Well up Barkin’
Marled Twittings
Gorge Bellicos
William’s snake
Make it clear
Never speak ill of the bed.
Never make hills out of bread
Last Inn, test route
All’s hell but tend well.
He was so light they sent him to Marrow and Seaton simultaneously to study depraved atoms and real activity.
Never come between man and knife
Always put the kettle on before you go to work,
It was an ill wind that razed that wood.
Never speak well until fed.
Pack all your foibles in a tall wet rag
Stan flew into Mary’s lovely romantically designed bedroom and examined his still beautiful,sleeping wife.She was reading Ted Hughes’ letters and had abandoned Wittgenstein. completely.She was also reading Sylvia Plath- the poetry of Negativity.Strange indeed he thought,for bedtime reading.But she always was a bit different.As usual, she had a big box of tissues on her bed in case any aberrant fluid might run from one of her orifices or a cough overwhelm her
She had so far not got a new man in her life; he was grateful ,as ,even though he was dead, he liked to come to see her and if another man was in the bed he would feel it wrong to spy on them to see if anyone else could warm up this semi- frozen yet delightful lady and give her what she needed before it was too late.She was already 89!Mary woke up all of a sudden and having leaped out of bed ,fell over and was sitting on the rug looking quite puzzled.With some difficulty, she managed to get up by turning onto her knees.She then went to the bathroom.
When she came back she tied a silk scarf around her eyes to keep the light out and lay back on her pillows.Stan would have liked to kiss her but was afraid she might get a shock.She didn’t read although one night she did sing psalms in bed before lying down with tears on her round cheeks as she remembered his last moments of human life.
She was still the most untidy person he had ever met and her room was full of pens,boxes of jewellery and scent not to mention a mountain of clothes,books and garishly coloured shoes and handbags..and a few rather superior ones
He went to the kitchen where Emile was watching the dawn through the glass door.
Hi ,Dad,how’re you doing up there now?
I am adapting slowly .said Stan.I wonder why you can see me but Mary can’t.
They both sat silently pondering this.
Well, nearly breakfast time,I’ll take another peek at Mary.
He went upstairs and Mary was laughing as she dictated her dreams into a laptop to make a video.
I dreamed Stan was here and he was pulling funny faces at me which made me laugh so much it woke me up.Then it happened again.
Stan turned and flew gently away thinking Mary must be getting better.
As for him,don’t people know that even in Heaven people miss their partners or children?
Now that’s a research topic for this year.
And don’t say,all of us
The marsh beside the sea,the muddy path
Hand in hand, in silence we both laugh
We hear the crickets’ gentle clicking sounds
Small wildflowers in joy will kiss the ground
By the salty,stabby, leaves of grass
Where busy insects cross the sandy path
The silence holds us in the dome of sky
And in the breeze, my hair will gently fly
I hold your hand without a need to speak
Observe more tiny insects by our feet
Reach the harbour where the ferry waits
You shall cross the Styx which is your fate
I lay my tender hand upon your cheek
There is no longer any time to speak
There are references like “burning violin” in this song to the Holocaust as there was an orchestra t play classical music when the prisoners went to work or when they went to to the gas chamber.And also to the Feast of Tabernacles when religious people live in tents or booths to remind them of their 40 years in the desert.It is also a harvest festival.
Example #4
First the air is blue and then
it is bluer and then green and then
black I am blacking out and yet
my mask is powerful
it pumps my blood with power
the sea is another story
the sea is not a question of power
I have to learn alone
to turn my body without force
in the deep element.
(“Diving into the Wreck” by Adrienne Rich)
Adreinne Rich’s beautiful poem “Diving into the Wreck” is a long example of free verse. She uses simple language to explore the difficult concept of human relations. She also employs an extended metaphor of diving into a shipwreck as a corollary to understanding what went wrong in a relationship. In this excerpt, Rich the key poetic techniques of repetition, enjambment, and imagery to propel the reader forward and examine her themes. Like in all free verse, Rich uses no rhyme or strict rhythm.
There’s many who’d slip a Twix ‘tween their lips
What’s a wife to me without tea?
Where are you glowing to.my pretty maid
Underneath the larches,I sit and scheme with you.
My honey lies over the ocean.,my honey lies over the tea.I don’t mind her lies for she makes good pies.Oh,swing with me honey, ir’s free
On Rich Man’s Hill
I pet her in the larder where the pate’s stowed
Have you ever been a glove,my boys?
He shall need his sock.
Flocks in pastures green revising ,will they pass their maths exam?
.
Stan was feeling so puzzled.He stood in his front room staring at the rowan tree outside.Do ants fall in love,he asked himself.Are swans the most beautiful birds? Shall I send Annie a card tomorrow? Should I send Mary one as well?
He went outside and watched the ants running up and down the tree trunk.They seem to work so hard but they never get bored.
But is that true? We have no way of knowing.At last, Stan has found a question with no answer.Is boredom a unique quality of humans?
If that were so we ought to have a Patron Saint of Boredom though not of Bores.
Why are some people so boring?
Luckily Annie had seen Stan and rushed out in a teal coloured all wool outfit
made more weird by having butterfly motifs scattered on it at random.
“Why have you got those butterflies on your clothes ?” he asked her in a silly way.
“It’s to cover up the moth holes.”She pertly replied.
“You must have a lot of moths.Do moths fall in love?do they get bored?”
“You seem in a funny mood today,”Annie murmured.
“Why don’t we go out for coffee?”
“I’ve just made a pot full.Please join me.”
“Thank you,” she cried wildly.
They sat down in the kitchen where Emile was sitting by the window.
“Good morning,Emile.”Annie shouted.
“No need to shout,” Emile miaowed politely.”I’m not deaf”.
“I am sorry, Emile.” she responded furtively,”I am over-excited.”
“Why is that? Stan demanded like an untrained philosopher.
“Well,I’ve already had ten Valentines.
“Already.You must have done it fast!” he teased her gently.#
“No,you idiot.I mean cards.
“You must be popular”
“Some look like women’s writing.”
“Let me see,”he asked swiftly.
To his surprise, one was in the handwriting of his wife Mary.
“Are you bisexual?” he asked her wonderingly.
“No,I’m just annissexual,” she replied saucily.
“What does that mean?”
“Well,it’s just one letter away from “Anti-sexual.”
“That’s a relief.You are not anti yet,then.”
“Not yet”,she whispered coyly.
“Would you make love to a woman?”
“Only if she made love to me.”
Mmmmmmmmmmmm
.Apparently seeing lesbian movies turns men on.do you watch them?”
“Not bloody likely,I want to get turned off.”
“That could be boring,”she said sweetly as she combed his eyebrows with an old toothbrush.
“Well,I could do the polishing better and get the house sorted out.Fill the freezer with casseroles and defrost the oven.
Yes,though would that be so rewarding as loving another human?
“I guess not” he answered slavishly.
“Shall we go to your place and have a cuddle.
OK
Emile was very put out as he liked to see people kissing but he had grown very philosophical over the years and at least he could get on with his book,
“Wittgenstein’s cat.”He switched on the netbook and began to type:
“Not everyone knows how important cats were in philosophy.But now we can reveal all.The saying,
“Of that which we cannot speak we must miaow”
was inspired by Daisy,Wittgenstein;s favourite cat.
And,”Of that which we cannot purr we must yowl.” was inspired by Ludo, a fine male cat that lived with Wittgenstein in Ireland.
So as Emile types,we must tiptoe away..
What sort of higher power transcends the thoughts
Of ancient Greeks and Hebrews in its might?
What power in Burning Bush emitted “oughts”?
What sort of higher power transcends the thoughts?
Who fused the Word and Feelings till they caught?
Who gave the world the gift of newborn light?
What sort of higher power transcends the thoughts
Of ancient Greeks and Hebrews in its might?
It’s autumn. yet it feels like summer bright
Despite the earlier ending of the day
Too soon comes starlight and deep night
It’s autumn yet it feels like summer bright
Except for changing angles of sunlight
No more long evening hours for children’s play
It’s autumn yet it feels like summer bright
Despite the earlier, gentler end of day
He ‘d held me in his arms and said,
what I had a never read;
That life is more than learned discourse.
So as he spoke, I watched his face
And his soft blue eyes;of course
Which eyes gave out a natural force
Yes,almost like a poet’s words
Or songs of subtle, hidden birds
So how he moved me like no other man;
No matter how they think they can,
They lose the step and do not dance
And never ever risk a chance
A leap when they might lift me high
Above their head. I’d want to fly.
Yes, form and feeling create a note
To express those feelings more remote…..
We do not need to speak or write
We have both touch and our eyesight.
And yet our human discourse needs
An anchor,lest the current’s speed
Should crash us down on Coniston,
And we’d be gone,unwound undone
Just write it down
A verb ,a noun
A string of sighs,our mouths,our eyes.
A paragraph that never dies,
within the finger tips and cries
For pen and paper,need to save
Some part of you, beyond your grave.
Your gaze no more will rest on me
Yet in its light, I’ll live and be.
.
Do not leave me for the desolate grave.
Do not leave me here when you are gone
Do not leave me to whom love you gave
Do not leave me
My tender arms, I stroke and gently bathe
To soothe my mind , when near me there is none.
Do not leave me for the desolate grave
Do not leave me
For our humorous love ,I ever crave
A founding ground we have built upon
Do not leave me to whom love you gave
Do not leave me
A sorrow deep convulses like a wave
Washes me of hope, of memories done
Yet do not leave me for the desolate grave.
Do not leave me
I love not the charisma of men suave
I love your voice and all our passion spun
Never leave me to whom love you gave
Never leave me.
In my heart, your name shall be engraved
In my mind, you circle like the sun
Do not leave me for your desolate grave
Do not leave me for death’s dark embrace~
That dark embrace
“The face is a picture of the mind as the eyes are its interpreter.” Marcus Tullius Cicero
These expectations of positive or negative responses from others have been shown to lie at the heart of adult relationships as well. Geraldine Downey and her colleagues, for example, have demonstrated that people who anxiously expect negative responses from others have more fragile relationships, perceive rejection in ordinary behavior, respond to conflict and rejection in ways that undermine their relationships, and become less engaged with and do less well in their academic institutions over time (e.g, Pietrzak, Downey, & Ayduk (2005). Adult-relationship researchers have shown not only that these expectations consistently predict how well people function in relationships and interpersonal settings, but also that these beliefs are malleable (Baldwin & Dandeneau, 2005; Mikulincer & Shaver, 2007). Expectations of rejection can be particularly harmful for minority students as they try to fit into historically White institutions. Thus, Walton and Cohen (2007) developed an experimental intervention aimed at African American students and designed to increase their expectations of acceptance. Participants, first-year college students, were taught that doubts about belonging in college are common at first but short-lived. They were presented with survey statistics, as well as personal testimonies from upperclassmen, and they wrote a speech (delivered to a video camera) explaining why people’s perceptions of acceptance might change over time. Students in the control group engaged in similar activities but with respect to their political belief
| Quantum mechanics |
|---|
{\displaystyle {\hat {H}}|\psi (t)\rangle =i\hbar {\frac {\partial }{\partial t}}|\psi (t)\rangle }
|
In physics, the term observer effect refers to changes that the act of observation will make on a phenomenon being observed. This is often the result of instruments that, by necessity, alter the state of what they measure in some manner. A commonplace example is checking the pressure in an automobile tire; this is difficult to do without letting out some of the air, thus changing the pressure. This effect can be observed in many domains of physics and can often be reduced to insignificance by using better instruments or observation techniques.
In quantum mechanics, there is a common misconception (which has acquired a life of its own, giving rise to endless speculations) that it is the mind of a conscious observer that causes the observer effect in quantum processes. It is rooted in a basic misunderstanding of the meaning of the quantum wave function ψ and the quantum measurement process.[1][2]
According to standard quantum mechanics, however, it is a matter of complete indifference whether the experimenters stay around to watch their experiment, or leave the room and delegate observing to an inanimate apparatus, instead, which amplifies the microscopic events to macroscopic[3] measurements and records them by a time-irreversible process.[4] The measured state is not interfering with the states excluded by the measurement. As Richard Feynman put it: “Nature does not know what you are looking at, and she behaves the way she is going to behave whether you bother to take down the data or not.”[5]
Historically, the observer effect has also been confused with the uncertainty principle.[6][7]
http://www.redorbit.com/news/science/1112689943/heisenberg-uncertainty-principle-090812/
“For clarity’s sake, one should be aware that the uncertainty principle is not the same as the observer effect, which states that the act of observing a phenomenon will change the phenomenon itself. The uncertainty principle is more about how precisely something can be measured in two dimensions such as position and momentum, simultaneously. In common parlance, the two theories are often confused”
I once read the lines on your face
In between each was a space
I knew what it meant:
that you had been sent
to love me and to fill me with grace
https://timeline.com/john-steinbeck-woke-apology-dcafe114855f#.untk40jry
When you think of political correctness, consummate white-guy novelist and Nobel Laureate John Steinbeck probably doesn’t come to mind. But way back in 1937, he actually apologized for the representation of people of color in his novel Tortilla Flat.
The book tells the story of a community of Northern California Hispanics called paisanos. In Steinbeck’s telling, they are joyous drinkers and dancers, who loaf and down wine and live in happy community with another. The author was earnest in his admiration for the paisanos, but his portrayal would make many modern readers uncomfortable.W
