like mirrors

"How simple life becomes when things like mirrors are forgotten."

Daphne du Maurier, novelist (1907-1989), in Frenchman's Creek (1941).

She will

When she will realise

she can move mountains

with her green gaze

when she will realise

she's the neutron star of girls

when she finally understands

she's shaping the world

in her gentlefirm hands

when she finally understands

she's greater than the Sahara sands

when she sees at last

that she's better than us all

and her love unsurpassed

when she sees at last

the good in her contrasts

when she finds out

she's stronger than us all

the strength in her doubt

when she finds out –

she'll move mountains

and supernova our soul

she'll make rain fall

where it never rains

she will light places

we didn't know existed

she will rewrite the tale

of what it is to love

she will lift the darkest veil

on skies we only dreamt of

she will fit the universe

in the palm of her hands

cup it like a young plant

water it with a verse

and we'll all be born again.

 

where the cliff met the sea

I set up my bed

by the break of day

I strung clouds together

wove rain as wallpaper

my bedroom was floating

on the placid ocean so

I stuffed my pillowcase

with the colours of space

with the day's sunshafts

I braided a farewell memory

One that I will keep deep down

and wait for the night to drown.

A Poet's Advice (1958)

"Almost anybody can learn to think or believe or know, but not a single human being can be taught to feel...the moment you feel, you're nobody-but-yourself. To be nobody-but-yourself — in a world which is doing its best, night and day, to make you everybody else — means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight; and never stop fighting."

E.E. Cummings, American poet, essayist, playwright, painter (1894-1962)
 

I am not as I was

I am not as I was, dear flowers –

this buffeted, battered body

to whose contact you recoil

this body hooked on drips

which will not heal

was all I had to make a stand

to make myself heard

to give you birth

and to love you.

I may not be as I was,

but I give it all to you.

I am not as I was, my friends –

days drift into other days

drift again in so many ways –

unforgetting what time does –

I haven't been the best of dads

and of friends –

but please, watch over them

for the sake of what I once was.

I am not as I was, my love –

you know I wrote because I was

and you let me – checking the ties

with our daughters weren't slacking –

you were the mountain

shielding and guiding

feeding the hopes of us four –

and when I finally realised –

we silently had to unignore

the swelling in my abdomen.

I am not as I was

rings like a testament –

a raucous admittance of defeat –

forced to throw the towel –

I fight, I am fighting!

But soon I won't be any more –

leaving you my friends

to watch over my loved ones

– and you my love

to watch over our flowers –

Soon I won't be any more –

but tonight I am –

not as I was

– but I am –

“non sum qualis eram” Horace, Odes, Book 4, 1

Fragment #111

hearts ago I was a mountain

my summit so far up in the clouds

nobody would dare climb it

in fact covering an equally deep abyss

so nobody would see how empty I felt

a sigh from now I'll be an ocean

 

goldenbrown

kinder-than-life eyes

                                   goldenbrown gaze

                       a forest path without ends

                                               fuddling travellers

                                                                      with scented words

meandering through memories

                                    and feelings we knew we had

             your fingertips lighter than blue

                                    more present deeper down

                                                            dark in the underocean

                                                awaking space

                                    creating unlight

            switching nights on in rooms

one after the other

            – maps that had been explored

                                   discarded after a while

                                               shut off, forgotten –

minutely stepping in each

                       removing protective whitesheets

                                   sometimes just feeling through

                                               tasting treasured keepsakes

                       deftly handweighing, eyes up

           and the faintest of smiles

and moving to the next room

unheeded, fearless perhaps,

                                              were the footsteps left

                                                                                    in the accumulated dust

                                   today I wander off

                                                                      room after room

                                                                                                        smelling your laughter

                                              whitenoising your palewhite silhouette

                                   echoing like glass dewdrops

           in the forest of your eyes your

kinder-than-life eyes

                                  goldenbrown gaze

Ideal Idle

"It is impossible to enjoy idling thoroughly unless one has plenty of work to do. There is no fun in doing nothing when you have nothing to do. Wasting time is merely an occupation then, and a most exhausting one. Idleness, like kisses, to be sweet must be stolen."

Jerome K. Jerome, humorist and playwright (1859-1927), in Idle Thoughts of an Idle Fellow (1886)

On The Right To Listen and The Duty To Say Dumb Stuff

One of the most common rights we see in constitutions around the globe is the freedom of speech. The right to speak your mind. It is both our boon and our bane: we get to listen to the protectors of the environment and tolerance as well as the promoters of hatred and bigotry. Of course, it neither entails that everything said is intelligent, nor does it absolve anyone from saying anything stupid – not even remotely. Speaking one's mind offers the delicate and dangerous opportunity to glimpse inside said mind.

Following Milton's 1644 Aeropagitica and Paine's Age of Reason (1794-1807), I think it is possible to argue for the right to listen, as denying someone the right to speak denies the audience the right to listen. In fact, I'll argue further that the obligation to have someone say something stupid should be a corollary stipulated in the many constitutions which protect the freedom of speech.

Define stupid, I hear? Stupid as in: rejecting established laws of the physical world, rejecting accepted scientific facts, asserting evidence which baffle common sense, exhibiting great insensitivity towards those who suffer, anything which may cause harm to oneself or to others. Examples? Sure. God miraculously saving a cross whilst letting the roof of Notre Dame Cathedral burn. And a few years ago the face of Jesus appearing on a toast while he doesn't bat an eye at his priests abusing hundreds of thousands of children. I have a treasure trove of those.

I can already hear some grumbling at the back. Well, it's your right to be offended, certainly. The right to be offended is valid at all times, but I'm afraid it does not constitute an argument, especially one which should cut any argument short. Must I remind people that “[w]hat is asserted without evidence can be dismissed without evidence.” (In more recent years known as Hitchens's razor, but the occurrence of the concept dates back to at least the 19^th Century).

Carlo Cipolla (1922-2000), an Italian economic historian, wrote an essay called The Basic Laws of Human Stupidity (1976). Here are his five fundamental laws of stupidity (also available here):

1. Always and inevitably everyone underestimates the number of stupid individuals in circulation.
2. The probability that a certain person will be stupid is independent of any other characteristic of that person.
3. A stupid person is a person who causes losses to another person or to a group of persons while himself deriving no gain and even possibly incurring losses.
4. Non-stupid people always underestimate the damaging power of stupid individuals. In particular non-stupid people constantly forget that at all times and places and under any circumstances to deal and/or associate with stupid people always turns out to be a costly mistake.
5. A stupid person is the most dangerous type of person.
   

Let's assume that we are all part of non-stupid people, just for the sake of not developing any of those points further, them being self-evident, and dozens of examples having popped up in our heads.

I understand that the fewer stoopid people there are the better we should fare as a society, yet I contend that stupidity has its uses and its benefits - as long as we stick to the rulebook so we can still perceive the stupid character in what's being said. Yet I don't believe that someone thinking differently from me should be grounds for silencing said person, stupid people above all.

In a nutshell, my argument runs thus: I'd rather go on hearing the likes of Donald Trump and his ilk spew stupid things over and over again because it keeps my standards on their toes, and also because when somebody asserts something stupid as confidently as the president of the first economic power in the world, everyone's bound to stop and listen. The fact that many people, even from his own political side of the spectrum, recognise the content as moronic is for me a sign of a healthy society.

Of course I'm disregarding rule #1: I know there are more stupid people in circulation...I'm a teacher, and I've seen/am still seeing my daily share of stupidity. But I believe in the power of education, that it will prevail on the very, very long run. Even though stupid will always exist. Even though mistakes shall still be made. It takes an ex-stupid person to recognise a stupid person, as we've all believed, at some point, in a stupid theory. Perhaps we still do, in the dark of night when no one is watching.

No more of this, let's take a concrete example. This scientist claims she has discovered the cause for homosexuality, and a cure, and I believe that it would be wrong to discard the article altogether and put it on the garbage heap of nonsense. I think it's worth devoting a few minutes to read this woman's case. Why? For the sake of listening to her line of argument. Because only by listening to what they say can we rebuke and redress, only by understanding where their logic falters can we hope to root out this stupid thought and plant a seed of knowledge. If that's even possible. Stupidity goes too deep sometimes. I'm not certain this 'academic' has a basic understanding of human biology, and perhaps her religion's bias is blinding her, who knows, but I'm certain that if she were to understand and change her mind it could only come from a heavy dose of reason.

Yet reason and intelligence can sometimes be counter-productive. Intelligent arguments usually are fraught with jargon and become boring, while stupid arguments usually sound funny and stick to our twisted brains. The outrageous is taken away from its content by the funny, and only the punchline remains (thanks Augustine for the input!). The problem is that those with the loudest voices usually aren't the ones with the best logic, the best arguments, and the most sensible approach. There is a deep truth in: “The best lack all conviction, while the worst/ Are full of passionate intensity.” W. B. Yeats, The Second Coming (1920). Stupid is catchy, smart slips the mind.

Sometimes, when one gets a lot of ideas in the hope that one good idea will come out, it also means that there's a handful of stupid ideas wedged in the thought process. Discarded, to boot, but they were nonetheless necessary to explore every possible options. Think about Donald Trump tweeting: “So horrible to watch the massive fire at Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris. Perhaps flying water tankers could be used to put it out. Must act quickly!” (10:39 AM - 15 Apr 2019 – my emphasis). The fact that he wrote “perhaps” and “could” indicates that he thought of that as a possible alternative to put out the fire. The fact that many immediately recognised this as a stupid strategy warmed my heart (pun intended...too soon?), because it meant that the vast majority of people understand the basic laws of physics...whilst the president of the country which publishes the most scientific and technical articles doesn't.

Stupid comments, stupid actions, stupid arguments make us think, even sometimes doubt. Think about the conscientious objector who doesn't want to fight in a war whom everyone believes to be rightful. Think about the teacher who tells you that the Earth is 4,000 years old. Think about the theoretical physicist who tells you that you and your computer, the ground, the centre of the Earth are being traversed, as we speak, by trillions upon trillions of neutrinos. You probably wouldn't believe one, perhaps two, because you would like to have evidence in order to believe. Had you not doubt, at some point, you wouldn't be so certain of all the things you're certain about.

At one point in our history we thought we were at the centre of our universe, we thought gravity didn't exist and that the sun revolved around us. Some of us were labelled 'stupid' because they doubted what was commonly accepted as knowledge, and challenged mainstream interpretations because the evidence they had painstakingly gathered pointed in another direction. One last quote to highlight my point: “Just think of the tragedy of teaching children not to doubt.” Clarence Darrow, lawyer and author (1857-1938).

Here's Hitchens touching upon a very similar issue.

Pitch of the Hitch

“Beware the irrational, however seductive. Shun the 'transcendent' and all who invite you to subordinate or annihilate yourself. Distrust compassion; prefer dignity for yourself and others. Don't be afraid to be thought arrogant or selfish. Picture all experts as if they were mammals. Never be a spectator of unfairness or stupidity. Seek out argument and disputation for their own sake; the grave will supply plenty of time for silence. Suspect your own motives, and all excuses. Do not live for others any more than you would expect others to live for you.”

Christopher Hitchens, British-American author, columnist, essayist, orator, journalist, and social critic (1949-2011) in Letters to a Young Contrarian (2001)