in the arsehole of diogenes

NEO-HERACLITUS_____________Qweir Notions in the arsehole of Diogenes: weBlog of a septuagenarian Binge-thinker since February 2008.
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Wednesday, 22 February 2017

Tuesday, 21 February 2017

The cheapest dye in olden times.

Yellow is the colour
of the piss-poor,
of pus
and the gorse-flower,
of the unpatriotic,
the craven
who cower -
and the burning
sun up in heaven.

Monday, 20 February 2017

Sunday, 19 February 2017

Suicide Postponed

Some years ago I decided
that if I had not killed myself by the age
of three-score years and ten,
I would do so when
I turned 75.
But now that life has become
so enjoyable, and ever more
surreal and funny
in this horribly mad world wherein I hide
(Caylus is so often sunny!),
I seem to have lost my sane desire for suicide.

Saturday, 18 February 2017

Alternative History

VACANCIES
  ROOMS TO LET

        No Brits
        No Cats
      No Whites

Friday, 17 February 2017

Once upon a time

there was this rich bitch
thought she was a princess
and she couldn't get to sleep
on the big thick goose-feather
mattress that rich white folks had
in cold olden times.  Her beautiful black
maid was set to find out why -
and discovered the bitch's pea-sized conscience
under the great fluffy heap.
Her servant had to swallow it
and turn into a beanstalk
so the bitch could get some sleep.

[from Fairy-Tales Deprettified, by A.Wolf]

Thursday, 16 February 2017

Beauty

of the kind that is 'skin deep'
inflames Beastliness.
Better to be "ugly"
like the handsome George Eliot.


Wednesday, 15 February 2017

Tuesday, 14 February 2017

Parents :

People from whom
it is easier to get forgiveness
than permission.

Monday, 13 February 2017

Victor, the famous "Wild boy of Aveyron"

(who had no name
and was found in the département of the Tarn),
Kaspar Hauser and Peter of Hannover
were all speechless, nameless,
and uninterested in money or sex.
Which statistically-insignificant sample
leads me nevertheless to think that
civilisation might be about money and sex.
(But I am prejudiced.)

Sunday, 12 February 2017

The Irish Elk























is - of course - now extinct.

[photo of sculpture in County Down by Bearz]




Saturday, 11 February 2017

After the Fall of the Rebel Angels.

With Satan gone
God got frustrated
eventually went blind
from dribbling out the Milky Way
- and now he's lost
the spiral nebula which was his mind.

Friday, 10 February 2017

I'd like to write

poems so beautiful
the world would smile and weep
before returning to its very troubled sleep.

Thursday, 9 February 2017

In winter-time

I'm Mr White
(with beard to match)
In Spring I'm Mr Green
In Summer I'm Sir A. Fairweather
In Autumn I'm Mr Goldman
And when I venture into town
in Winter I am Mr Brown.

Wednesday, 8 February 2017

Rules are for fools

- and those unspoken
should be broken
judiciously
with exquisite tools.

Tuesday, 7 February 2017

Monday, 6 February 2017

Sunday, 5 February 2017

On Taking Offence

"Just be careful," writes Jindra.
"On this planet calling someone intelligent can be offensive."
Actually...in the US and the UK
"intellectual" is a serious insult.* 
I love being insulted.

*(perhaps based on the record of totalitarian thinkers like Noam Chomsky)

Friday, 3 February 2017

If you're feeling lonely or sad, read this.

click to enlarge


















The Loneliest Whale in the World.

In 2004, The New York Times wrote an article about the loneliest whale in the world.
Scientists have been tracking her since 1992 and they discovered the problem:
She isn’t like any other baleen whale. Unlike all other whales, she doesn’t have friends.
She doesn’t have a family. She doesn’t belong to any tribe, pack or gang.
She doesn’t have a lover. She never had one.
Her songs come in groups of two to six calls, lasting for five to six seconds each.
But her voice is unlike any other baleen whale.
It is unique—while the rest of her kind communicate between 12 and 25hz, she sings at 52hz.
You see, that’s precisely the problem. No other whales can hear her.
Every one of her desperate calls to communicate remains unanswered. Each cry ignored.
And, with every lonely song, she becomes sadder and more frustrated,
her notes going deeper in despair as the years go by.
Just imagine that massive mammal, floating alone and singing—too big to connect
with any of the beings it passes, feeling paradoxically small in the vast stretches of empty, open ocean.

from tumblr

I think there may be too much 'empathy' in the above. 
How can we judge a whale's emotions when we can't judge each other's ?
She may be feeling serene, and her cries may not be 'desperate'...
She may be feeling merely confused - like many mammals may be feeling much of the time.



Thursday, 2 February 2017

Fallaces

sunt rerum species.

Seneca seems to have been the first to write that Appearances are deceptive.
He also wrote:
Non scholae sed vitae discimus - Education should be for life, not for exams.
and:
Otium sine litteris mors est et hominis vivi sepultura - Leisure without literature (and letter-writing) is a living death.


Wednesday, 1 February 2017

Parkour

is not deemed to be a Sport
because it is non-competitive.
It is fun.
Competitiveness destroys fun.
Fun involves play.
Play has been destroyed by Sport.

Tuesday, 31 January 2017

Monday, 30 January 2017

Sunday, 29 January 2017

Hygiene-harpies

in the hospital
wiped my armpits
in May 2014.
Since then,
I'm glad to say,
they haven't been.

Saturday, 28 January 2017

Misery

comes in all forms and intensities.
Our dog Oscar howled heart-stoppingly
when his ball was stuck in a bush.

Friday, 27 January 2017

The weather in Caylus

Perhaps taking after my mother,
who was a meteorologist during World War II,
I love weather-maps and clouds.
This winter, the weather in Caylus
has been extraordinary: most days
being bright and sunny,
and warm in the sunshine,
most nights being cold and often frosty -
since the beginning of December.
Yesterday's West Europe satellite pictures
looked like this:

click to enlarge

















Much of France is cloudless except for the Mediterranean coastline
and the Massif Central.  Caylus (the blue X) remains sunny
and dry - for there has been no significant rain
since early last summer. I guess lawn-watering will not be allowed
in 2017. The waterfall at Caylus is just a trickle.
Of the British Isles (most of the Balkans, and the Baltic)
 only part of Scotland is free of dense cloud.

Thursday, 26 January 2017

Capitalism

like Christianity, its Satanic father,
is as strong as cities.
Pagan originally meant rural,
when there was countryside to hide in.

Wednesday, 25 January 2017

R.L. Stevenson, he say:

It is better to travel than to arrive.
This is certainly not true literally,
not even nowadays,
but boy! isn't it true sensually.

Tuesday, 24 January 2017

Monday, 23 January 2017

Sunday, 22 January 2017

Inscrutable

is how "Orientals" were most often described
by the British. I find everyone
inscrutable.  I have only 'vibes'
to go on, and they are not at all reliable.
People, alas, are not as readable as dogs.
People are like cats - inscrutable.

Saturday, 21 January 2017

Mindless,

almost literally mindless
are the millions whose behaviour,
attitudes and thoughts are governed
by Tweets, Facebook, other media,
family, religion, peers and employers
- amongst others.

Friday, 20 January 2017

President Trump

will likely not be worse
than (and maybe not even as bad as) Presidents
Harding, Coolidge, Eisenhower, Reagan,
George W. Bush, and JFK
(who slid the USA and allies
into the Viêt-Nam débâcle)
- so what has all the moaning and groaning been about ?

listen to this >

Thursday, 19 January 2017

The preposterous vanity of 'Human Dignity'

is daily mocked by millions
whose lives are ruled by fear and cheap desire :
a vague promise of heaven and the much-more-detailed threat of hell.

Wednesday, 18 January 2017

Truth to tell,

'truth' is
not necessarily
'serious' -
which is why good jokes are good.

Tuesday, 17 January 2017

I hold these truths to be self-evident:

Intelligence is no guarantee of being right.
Imitation is a stronger force than innovation.
People who think that they think are usually just thinking that they think.
(I am one of them.)

Sunday, 15 January 2017

Paradox

In streets over-bright
the modern flâneur
can find freedom
only at night.

Saturday, 14 January 2017

Words are addictive.

Invented to dupe,
they promise connection,
are pushed on us early
so we'll always use them
like opium,
them and no other
form of disclosure,
because we're asleep
until we are corpses.

(Rudyard Kipling wrote:
Words are the most powerful drug used by Mankind.)

Friday, 13 January 2017

George Herbert, he say:

"Give me simplicitie, that I may live."
That's quite a tall order,
especially when we regard simple people
as backward in one way or another.

Thursday, 12 January 2017

I'd rather be unpleasant

than false -
which is why most people
sooner or later
do not think I am pleasant.


Wednesday, 11 January 2017

My problem with Socialism

is that there is so little
in all those publications
and protestations
and enunciations
about the rights of dogs.

Tuesday, 10 January 2017

Yesterday

I went to see my future
and pissed on it :
my grave which overlooks the river
is surprisingly empty.
And no snowdrops yet.

Monday, 9 January 2017

Silly Willy Blake

"The Tygers of Wrath
are" most certainly not
"wiser than the horses of instruction."

Saturday, 7 January 2017

On reading another excellent novel.

When the best in thousands of people
is what they write
why bother with actual human beings
in the flesh ?

Friday, 6 January 2017

The problem with moralities

is that
if they are elastic they are hypocritical
and favour the rich and powerful,
while if they are rigid
they're cruelly totalitarian.
So...?

Thursday, 5 January 2017

Einstein, he say:

'We cannot solve our problems with the same kind of thinking that we had when we created them.'
- which is why we continue to create problems.

Wednesday, 4 January 2017

Lines written while listening to Jeremy Irons reading T.S. Eliot

There are no cocktail smells in bars,
and, regrettably, no sumptuous odour of cigars
- just noise. People are so noisy
even when they think that they are being quiet.
They talk of mortgages and diet.
So little of our noise is musical
and much of our music as banal
as the talk in "rest-rooms" or in bars
where no-one is allowed to smoke cigars.
If "conversation" were banned instead
just think how stammerers could get ahead.