Symbol of Freedom, Flower of Hope

Symbol of Freedom, Flower of Hope, who after years of house arrest now sits in jail... Today is the birthday of Aung San Suu Kyi... who does all that she can do, and never loses heart, even when she can do nothing. So what can we do? We do what we can do, my friends. We don't lose heart. Though we can do nothing.
http://www.64forsuu.org

Instructions (tongue-in-cheek) on how to do nothing:

Motorway Across the Universe

 
"Here is a problem for you," Nafurti said, producing the above picture of the universe. "On the left, you have the Earth, then the motorway that runs across the universe and on the right the planetary objects and the Sun. As you can see the motorway goes almost completely across the universe and the gap is too small for the planets to pass through. So the problem is how to move the planets across and settle them on the Earth, allowing for making the Earth smaller in the process."

I realize immediately that being allowed to make the Earth smaller means we can convert some of the mass of the Earth into energy and use that energy to perform the feat.

"How about moving the planets across the motorway?" I suggested.

But this is a two-dimensional model of the universe... so to take something "over" would involve taking it out of the universe, she explained.

"How about populating the Earth with humans," I suggest next, "The destructive power of humans will blow apart the motorway and the way will then be clear!"

At this, she was most displeased. Frowning, she explained "That will create debris all over the place which will be even harder to avoid and will make your problem much more difficult."

And then I had a third idea... "Complete the motorway, and then with tremendous force like a rocket taking off from its launch site, the left side of the universe must take off from the right, separating itself from it, and then double itself back and re-join itself to the right side."

"That's very good!" she said. "So how are you going to do the first of those two in practice, the splitting?"

I have no idea actually... and then I wake up.


And then there's still the second problem of doubling back and re-connecting...

I'll have to figure all that out in due course, but in the meantime I'll concentrate on completing that motorway. It might be a motorway of foolishness http://jamintoo.multiply.com/video/item/107/107 from which one might take off with complete freedom and nothing to lose, but in order to take it, in order to "let go" of something, a subjective attachment of any kind whatever it might be that holds us back, requires first for that thing to complete itself.

Don't you think?

Gall & Balavoine

Nothing to Lose

 

(Both)
They take us for lunatics,
What must they think of us
We don't care
We don't care at all
We don't care about being poor
We like each other even more
When we have nothing to lose
When we have nothing to lose.

(Balavoine)
If you leave with me
People will show you the finger

(Gall)
If I left with you
I would forget who I was

(Balavoine)
You would be beyond it all...
If I chained you to me
You would like your chains

(Gall)
I would hang to you
Like ivy to an oak.

(Both)
Far from the undergrounds of Naziland
We would find a no-man's land
Where we could live
Desperately free

They take us for lunatics,
What must they think of us
We don't care
We don't care at all
We don't care about being poor
We like each other even more
When we have nothing to lose
When we have nothing to lose.

(Balavoine)
If you leave with me
Even if you wanted to
You would never be able
To go back.

(Gall)
When you choose your life
You must live it to the limit
I would be with you
Against the whole world.

(Both)
Come with us and risk your lives
On the motorways of foolishness
So now you understand
How far one can go
When one has nothing to lose
When one has nothing to lose
When one has nothing to lose
When one has nothing to lose.

Arachne

Arachne weaved a finer thread

Than any girl before or since,

Diaphanous folds above her head

Cascading down in golden tints 

Like magic at her fingertips 

That would in any man inspire 

To press with passion on the lips 

The one enwrapped within its fire. 

To pass beneath the veil and find 

A harness to her pleasure’s will 

And parting sensuous legs entwined. 

At heaven’s gate to drink their fill. 

But Athena turned her love to hate 

The flowing gold to silver light 

The web of lust became a bait 

That led the trapped into the night. 

A butterfly who passed before 

Did smile that he had come too late 

And on he fluttered to the shore 

Beside the eucalyptus tree to mate.

—okei

The image is "Lesbia" (1887) by the British painter John Reinhard Weguelin (1849-1927).

Panic Signs - Cristina Peri Rossi

Rating:	★★★★
Category:	Books
Genre:	Literature & Fiction
Tagline:	Loss of Rights & Descent into Terror of an Oppressive Dictatorial Regime

"It is time to say that man, before receiving the benefits of culture, should receive the benefits of order. In a certain sense, it can be said that, historically, the policeman has taken precedence over the teacher." —Benito Mussolini

This is a collection of 46 short texts of poetic prose written just prior to the military takeover of the author's home country of Uruguay in 1972. It is a difficult book, difficult first for its subject matter; it tells of the terrible happenings as a country lets itself slip into a police state, the despair of houses being torn apart in police searches and people being arrested on trumped up charges and presages the horrors that were to come: the disappearances, censorship, repression and torture. The author herself would have her works banned and be forced to leave the country for her own safety, where she lives to this day in Barcelona. 

But the book is difficult for another reason. It is full of metaphor. "Man is a hunter of signs...existence has no meaning without interpretation", but the author's signs are often not easy to interpret. But we are reassured that signs are multiple and this is how it should be. "There is no one reading," she writes "though politicians sometimes do not understand [this], nor even visionaries and mystics." It is understandable if we do not understand, the purpose is to create uneasiness, to evoke sensations of panic through nightmarish visions, and to explore the redemptive power of the erotic and the absurd. 

For example, the reader might rather skip over the horrific description of a body whose organs keep expanding, a metaphor for the organs of the state stifling out all life. The birds in blue feathers represent authority, the higher their rank the more they stink. Blue is the colour of their uniform and is used throughout to symbolize the iciness and desolation of the world outside, unlike the warmth and darkness of the womb. 

"I read your book... It's a bit confusing... Maybe you could explain it to me?" a señora asks an author who is male but represents Cristina Rossi herself (the boundaries of sexuality sometimes blur). "If I knew I wouldn't have written it," he replies, and later "I write it the way I dream." The use of metaphor is supposed to be confusing and alienating, and when the señora asks him if he at least can relieve the uneasiness he has caused by making love to her, he politely refuses and explains why and she is sorry for him. He gives her a ticket to the museum where he will be on display by "state decree", a living image preserved forever of a world in decline. 

This has been a difficult book to explain, to interpret or to review. It is beautifully translated, poetic, satirical, imaginative, multi-layered and Kafka-esque. I hope the above at least gives some idea of the atmosphere of this complex and artistic work.

June Dreams

In her sleep, she dreams
And in her dream, she sleeps.
And in this sleep, she dreams,
She dreams that she is waking,
But in the mirror of her mind
She sees herself still fast asleep.
'Tis but a dream within a dream
In which she opens out her eyes
Feels the world beneath her feet
And shivers with delight.

—okei

Leighton, "Flaming June" (1895)

The above can be considered as a loose translation of the following limerick I wrote as a kid, except in this it's a man who's dreaming in a dream. It was the only poem I ever wrote in a foreign language and also the only poem I wrote that I can remember which is the reason why it's here. One day hopefully I'll unearth where all the other poems I wrote as a child went to, but until then I'll just imagine that they were fantastic.

"homme"=man, "rêve"=dream, "se lever"=wake up, "dans" = inside... you get the gist!

Il y avait un homme qui a rêvé
Qu'il était en train de se lever
Mais il a pensé que c'était
Un rêve qui était
Un rêve dans un rêve qu'il rêvait.
 
—okei (1994)

          Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-1882)     

And finally for a wake-up call!!!
A poem I've loved ever since I discovered it in a book of quotations.

         "Psalm of Life"
    Tell me not, in mournful numbers,
        Life is but an empty dream ! —
    For the soul is dead that slumbers,
        And things are not what they seem.
    Life is real !   Life is earnest!
        And the grave is not its goal ;
    Dust thou art, to dust returnest,
        Was not spoken of the soul.
    Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,
        Is our destined end or way ;
    But to act, that each to-morrow
        Find us farther than to-day.
    Art is long, and Time is fleeting,
        And our hearts, though stout and brave,
    Still, like muffled drums, are beating
        Funeral marches to the grave.
    In the world's broad field of battle,
        In the bivouac of Life,
    Be not like dumb, driven cattle !
        Be a hero in the strife !
    Trust no Future, howe'er pleasant !
        Let the dead Past bury its dead !
    Act,— act in the living Present !
        Heart within, and God o'erhead !
    Lives of great men all remind us
        We can make our lives sublime,
    And, departing, leave behind us
        Footprints on the sands of time ;
    Footprints, that perhaps another,
        Sailing o'er life's solemn main,
    A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,
        Seeing, shall take heart again.
    Let us, then, be up and doing,
        With a heart for any fate ;
    Still achieving, still pursuing,
        Learn to labor and to wait.

—Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1838)

Sizzle and Burn - Jayne Ann Krentz

Rating:	★★★★
Category:	Books
Genre:	Literature & Fiction
Tagline:	Very Entertaining Paranormal Romance Thriller

Raine is looking through her late Aunt Vella's house that has been left to her when immediately she makes an unpleasant discovery. She soon finds herself the target of a psychopath and simultaneously gets caught up in a feud between two rival secret organisations, the mysterious J&J and the ruthless and deadly Nightshade, when the über-confident investigator Zack Jones of the former comes knocking at her door.

Raine and Zack share one goal – to find out who really was behind Aunt Vella's death because neither believe she died of a heart attack as supposed. There's immediately a sexual chemistry between the two as they embark on their quest, but their motives are different and J&J's operatives have betrayed her family in the past, so Raine is wary of history repeating itself.

So far, so good – a romance thriller which keeps the reader in suspense as we take a fun, but predictable if a little jerky ride to an inevitable triumph of good over evil. But there is another ingredient here that permeates every fibre of the novel and gives it life, and gives it fire! And that is the paranormal... Raine is sensitive to emotions left behind in objects – they create voices in her head; Zack too, but instead he has visions. Zack also has a rare mirror talent that allows him to anticipate an attack and avoid it, and conversely crowds will part to let him through.

But the enemies have talents too. With talents comes the inner need to use them, with special powers come special responsibilities, and power can easily go to the head. "Burn witch burn," cries the Bonfire Killer, but love triumphs over hate, danger is averted and the history of humanity is re-written. But was it all but a strange dream, entrancing but forgettable? Ooops, the lady Raine heard that as she sits back in the middle of her sofa, arms outstretched, a cat on either side and she gives her characteristic "screw-you" smile. Err... well despite that, it was a fun read, and I think it would make a great movie.