George J. Dance wrote:

> On Tuesday, October 10, 2023 at 12:30:17 PM UTC-4, W.Dockery wrote:
>> George J. Dance wrote:
>>
>> > On Monday, October 9, 2023 at 2:39:29 PM UTC-4, rachel wrote:
>>
>> >> i'm really pissed because i have on a couple occasions DREAMED of great poetry, and i wake up, and it fades away so quickly, i can't use it.
>>
>> > I had exactly that type of dream once. I never did remember any of the poem I dreamed, but at least I got to write a poem about the experience.
>>
>> > The poem at 3 a.m.
>>
>> > The poem at 3 a.m.
>> > does not want to be written;
>> > it visits only to mock you.
>>
>> > - gjd

>> I always liked that one. George.

> Well, thank you for giving me the opportunity to talk about it. MMP did as well, but it would deflect from the conversation I'm having with him.

> As you know, I see the purpose of a poem as to communicate an epiphany: a thought, idea, or feeling that the reader hasn't had in just that way before, but I'm hoping he or she will get from the poem.

> In this case it's an alternate way of looking at reality, a different metaphysics: one in which poems are not the creations of people, but mind-independent things (very much like Platonic Ideas) that latch onto consciousnesses, like memes, or (to use a more scientific simile) like broadcasting signals hitting a receiver.

> It's not an original idea; I think I got it from John Denver, who believed that's where his songs came from. I also remember a poem from Gary Snyder, "How Poetry Comes to Me", which compared a poem taking shape in his mind to an unseen beast sniffing around outside his tent.

> I'm not saying, or trying to convince the reader, that poems are like that; I just want to open his mind to the possibility, to try it on as they say.

Well put, G.D.

On Tuesday, October 10, 2023 at 3:27:37 PM UTC-4, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> On Tuesday, October 10, 2023 at 2:17:52 PM UTC-4, George J. Dance wrote:
> > On Tuesday, October 10, 2023 at 12:30:17 PM UTC-4, W.Dockery wrote:
> > > George J. Dance wrote:
> > >
> > > > On Monday, October 9, 2023 at 2:39:29 PM UTC-4, rachel wrote:
> > >
> > > >> i'm really pissed because i have on a couple occasions DREAMED of great poetry, and i wake up, and it fades away so quickly, i can't use it.
> > >
> > > > I had exactly that type of dream once. I never did remember any of the poem I dreamed, but at least I got to write a poem about the experience..
> > >
> > > > The poem at 3 a.m.
> > >
> > > > The poem at 3 a.m.
> > > > does not want to be written;
> > > > it visits only to mock you.
> > >
> > > > - gjd
> >
> > > I always liked that one. George.
> > Well, thank you for giving me the opportunity to talk about it. MMP did as well, but it would deflect from the conversation I'm having with him.
> >
> > As you know, I see the purpose of a poem as to communicate an epiphany: a thought, idea, or feeling that the reader hasn't had in just that way before, but I'm hoping he or she will get from the poem.
> >
> > In this case it's an alternate way of looking at reality, a different metaphysics: one in which poems are not the creations of people, but mind-independent things (very much like Platonic Ideas) that latch onto consciousnesses, like memes, or (to use a more scientific simile) like broadcasting signals hitting a receiver.
> >
> > It's not an original idea; I think I got it from John Denver, who believed that's where his songs came from. I also remember a poem from Gary Snyder, "How Poetry Comes to Me", which compared a poem taking shape in his mind to an unseen beast sniffing around outside his tent.
> >
> > I'm not saying, or trying to convince the reader, that poems are like that; I just want to open his mind to the possibility, to try it on as they say.
> >
> My favorite version of this idea was expressed by Emerson in his essay, "The Poet." I've quoted from it before, but it bears repeating:
>
> "For poetry was all written before time was, and whenever we are so finely organized that we can penetrate into that region where the air is music, we hear those primal warblings and attempt to write them down, but we lose ever and anon a word or a verse and substitute something of our own, and thus miswrite the poem. The men of more delicate ear write down these cadences more faithfully, and these transcripts, though imperfect, become the songs of the nations."

Could he be alluding to the Reality that our primal core is attuned with and desires that the perfect verse satisfies?
> And, as I hope I've made clear on numerous occasions in the past, I thoroughly believe in it.
>
>
> Michael Pendragon
> "One of the goals of poetry as I was taught and still work for, is as communication."
> -- Will Dockery demonstrating his failure to communicate

George J. Dance wrote:

> On Tuesday, October 10, 2023 at 12:30:17 PM UTC-4, Will Dockery wrote:
>> George J. Dance wrote:
>> > On Monday, October 9, 2023 at 2:39:29 PM UTC-4, rachel wrote:
>
>> >> i'm really pissed because i have on a couple occasions DREAMED of great poetry, and i wake up, and it fades away so quickly, i can't use it.
>>
>> > I had exactly that type of dream once. I never did remember any of the poem I dreamed, but at least I got to write a poem about the experience.
>>
>> > The poem at 3 a.m.
>>
>> > The poem at 3 a.m.
>> > does not want to be written;
>> > it visits only to mock you.
>>
>> > - gjd

>> I always liked that one. George.

> Well, thank you for giving me the opportunity to talk about it. MMP did as well, but it would deflect from the conversation I'm having with him.

> As you know, I see the purpose of a poem as to communicate an epiphany: a thought, idea, or feeling that the reader hasn't had in just that way before, but I'm hoping he or she will get from the poem.

> In this case it's an alternate way of looking at reality, a different metaphysics: one in which poems are not the creations of people, but mind-independent things (very much like Platonic Ideas) that latch onto consciousnesses, like memes, or (to use a more scientific simile) like broadcasting signals hitting a receiver.

> It's not an original idea; I think I got it from John Denver, who believed that's where his songs came from. I also remember a poem from Gary Snyder, "How Poetry Comes to Me", which compared a poem taking shape in his mind to an unseen beast sniffing around outside his tent.

> I'm not saying, or trying to convince the reader, that poems are like that; I just want to open his mind to the possibility, to try it on as they say.

Interesting that you mention Gary Snyder and his tent, with Jack Kerouac, one of the very first "Dharma Bums."

:)

On Tuesday, October 10, 2023 at 1:49:23 PM UTC-4, George J. Dance wrote:
> On Monday, October 9, 2023 at 2:00:29 PM UTC-4, MMP aka "Michael Pendragon" wrote:
> > On Monday, October 9, 2023 at 1:02:55 PM UTC-4, Ash Wurthing wrote:
> > > On Monday, October 9, 2023 at 12:33:16 PM UTC-4, Ash Wurthing wrote:
> > > > > >
> > > Allow Ash to spark a debate. Pendragon can correct me since he knows more of Ayn Rand that I care to know, but I belief the whole thing of second handing involved that architect character being afraid to move away from current trends.
> > >
> > The book contrasts the careers of two architects -- from their college days through their careers. Howard Roark is an iconoclastic visionary who drops out of school (he feels they have nothing more to teach him) and has difficulty securing financing/clients as his designs are too unique for the tastes of the common herd (he's modeled very loosely on Frank Lloyd Wright).. Peter Keating, otoh, succeeds at both college and professionally. He is a mediocre designer with no original ideas. He follows the current trends (rectangular buildings that borrow decorative facades from various past cultures). Roark and Keating form a friendly enemies sort of relationship, with Roark despising Keating as an untalented servant to popular taste; and Keating both respects and (jealously) hates Roark for both his freedom of spirit and talent.
> I'd agree with most of that, with a couple of exceptions.

I'm glad that you mostly agree, as I'm going by memory from a book I read once, 30-odd years ago.

> First, Roark and Keating did not have a relationship; they were classmates and housemates, so they were physically close, and Keating did have strong feelings for
> Roark - he was intermittently jealous and envious - but it's not clear that Roark ever thought of Keating when Keating wasn't in his face.

I don't know how you define "relationship," but IMHO many relationships can be largely one-sided.

> Second, Roark and Keating were graduating from university, not school. ("School" makes them sound less mature than they were.)

Contextually, "school" should not throw anyone off, since I open the paragraph by saying "The book contrasts the careers of two architects -- from their college days through their careers."

In America, we informally refer to colleges and universities as "schools."

> Third, and most importantly, Roark did not drop out: he was expelled (just at the time his class, including Keating, graduated).

As I said, I haven't read the book in over 30 years, but didn't he take the blame for something Peter did, thereby saving Peter's career? And when Peter asked him why he would sacrifice his career for him, he said that the university had nothing of value left to teach him?

Getting expelled implies that one failed, or committed some offense that got him thrown out. Roark (again, IIRC) chose to get expelled to save his roommate's future. Whether he did this out of friendly feelings for Peter, or whether out of a sense of duty, as Roark, the Übermensch incarnate would succeed with or without a degree, whereas poor, untalented second-hander Peter would not.

> > Eventually Keating gets a contract to design a high profile apartment building, but the task proves beyond his limited talents.
> > He begs Roark to secretly help him out by designing it for him. Roark agrees -- but only on the promise that his designs will be carried out *exactly* as he's made them. Things start out fine, but as the building progresses, Keating has to make changes to the designs to appease the backers/clients. Keating is torn because he knows they are ruining Roark's design (which Keating was all set to get credit for), but he eventually caves under pressure. When Roark finds out about the changes, he feels that he has the right to blow the building up -- which he proceeds to do.
> The only thing I'd add here is that Keating did not give Roark a "promise" - on Roark's insistence, they drew up a binding contract. That gave the prosecution a key piece of evidence (it established motive), but it also gave Roark his defense -- he was not paid for his service (designing the building), so he withdrew it.
>

I wasn't certain whether they had made a contract -- not that it would have done him any good in the real world. The building was the property of the men who'd commissioned Peter Keating to design it. They had no knowledge of Peter's contract with Roark, and Peter had no legal authority to make such a contract with Roark.

> > Roark is put on trial and miraculously wins.
> Nothing miraculous about it. He convinced the judge and jury that he had a right to his IP (the building design) and therefore the right to not let Keating use it.

I disagree.

In the real world, one cannot blow up a building out of spite. The building belonged to the men who had *financed* its design and construction. It did not belong to Keating, and it did not belong to Roark.

Roark had worked on the building in secret, so his reputation would not have been hurt by the subpar building's existence.

Legally, Roark had no right to take the law into his own hands.

He had the right to sue Peter Keating for the time he had spent working on the project -- but that was *all* that he had the legal right to do.

Dynamiting a large building in the center of town -- without permission, and without taking precautions to ensure that no people were in, or near, the building, or that it would collapse without knocking over other buildings places innocent bystanders at risk.

In real life, Roark would have been responsible for reimbursing the *owners* for any money they would have lost (as well as projected losses from the delay caused by the building's destruction); and would have had to serve a lengthy stretch in prison.

A better writer than Ayn Rand (Rand had her strengths as a writer, but she also had her share of weaknesses) would have had Roark win over her readers with his courtroom speech -- but sent him to prison anyway -- thereby martyring him in the eyes of her radical right wing, neo-Nazi, sociopathic ("egoistic" in her words) fan base.

No offense. I love Ayn Rand, but there are reasons why her stories are looked on derisively by many.

> > The publicity from his court case wins him new clients, while Keating is publicly disgraced.

On Tuesday, October 10, 2023 at 4:15:28 PM UTC-4, General-Zod wrote:
> George J. Dance wrote:
>
> > On Tuesday, October 10, 2023 at 12:30:17 PM UTC-4, W.Dockery wrote:
> >> George J. Dance wrote:
> >>
> >> > On Monday, October 9, 2023 at 2:39:29 PM UTC-4, rachel wrote:
> >>
> >> >> i'm really pissed because i have on a couple occasions DREAMED of great poetry, and i wake up, and it fades away so quickly, i can't use it.
> >>
> >> > I had exactly that type of dream once. I never did remember any of the poem I dreamed, but at least I got to write a poem about the experience.
> >>
> >> > The poem at 3 a.m.
> >>
> >> > The poem at 3 a.m.
> >> > does not want to be written;
> >> > it visits only to mock you.
> >>
> >> > - gjd
>
> >> I always liked that one. George.
>
> > Well, thank you for giving me the opportunity to talk about it. MMP did as well, but it would deflect from the conversation I'm having with him.
>
> > As you know, I see the purpose of a poem as to communicate an epiphany: a thought, idea, or feeling that the reader hasn't had in just that way before, but I'm hoping he or she will get from the poem.
>
> > In this case it's an alternate way of looking at reality, a different metaphysics: one in which poems are not the creations of people, but mind-independent things (very much like Platonic Ideas) that latch onto consciousnesses, like memes, or (to use a more scientific simile) like broadcasting signals hitting a receiver.
>
> > It's not an original idea; I think I got it from John Denver, who believed that's where his songs came from. I also remember a poem from Gary Snyder, "How Poetry Comes to Me", which compared a poem taking shape in his mind to an unseen beast sniffing around outside his tent.
>
> > I'm not saying, or trying to convince the reader, that poems are like that; I just want to open his mind to the possibility, to try it on as they say.
> Well put, G.D.

Agreed.

On Tuesday, October 10, 2023 at 1:49:23 PM UTC-4, George J. Dance wrote:
> On Monday, October 9, 2023 at 2:00:29 PM UTC-4, MMP aka "Michael Pendragon" wrote:
> > On Monday, October 9, 2023 at 1:02:55 PM UTC-4, Ash Wurthing wrote:
>
> > > Allow Ash to spark a debate. Pendragon can correct me since he knows more of Ayn Rand that I care to know, but I belief the whole thing of second handing involved that architect character being afraid to move away from current trends.
> > >
> > The book contrasts the careers of two architects -- from their college days through their careers. Howard Roark is an iconoclastic visionary who drops out of school (he feels they have nothing more to teach him) and has difficulty securing financing/clients as his designs are too unique for the tastes of the common herd (he's modeled very loosely on Frank Lloyd Wright).. Peter Keating, otoh, succeeds at both college and professionally. He is a mediocre designer with no original ideas. He follows the current trends (rectangular buildings that borrow decorative facades from various past cultures). Roark and Keating form a friendly enemies sort of relationship, with Roark despising Keating as an untalented servant to popular taste; and Keating both respects and (jealously) hates Roark for both his freedom of spirit and talent.
> I'd agree with most of that, with a couple of exceptions. First, Roark and Keating did not have a relationship; they were classmates and housemates, so they were physically close, and Keating did have strong feelings for Roark - he was intermittently jealous and envious - but it's not clear that Roark ever thought of Keating when Keating wasn't in his face. Second, Roark and Keating were graduating from university, not school. ("School" makes them sound less mature than they were.) Third, and most importantly, Roark did not drop out: he was expelled (just at the time his class, including Keating, graduated).
> > Eventually Keating gets a contract to design a high profile apartment building, but the task proves beyond his limited talents.
> > He begs Roark to secretly help him out by designing it for him. Roark agrees -- but only on the promise that his designs will be carried out *exactly* as he's made them. Things start out fine, but as the building progresses, Keating has to make changes to the designs to appease the backers/clients. Keating is torn because he knows they are ruining Roark's design (which Keating was all set to get credit for), but he eventually caves under pressure. When Roark finds out about the changes, he feels that he has the right to blow the building up -- which he proceeds to do.
> The only thing I'd add here is that Keating did not give Roark a "promise" - on Roark's insistence, they drew up a binding contract. That gave the prosecution a key piece of evidence (it established motive), but it also gave Roark his defense -- he was not paid for his service (designing the building), so he withdrew it.
> > Roark is put on trial and miraculously wins.
> Nothing miraculous about it. He convinced the judge and jury that he had a right to his IP (the building design) and therefore the right to not let Keating use it.
> > The publicity from his court case wins him new clients, while Keating is publicly disgraced.

Good read, G.D.

On Tuesday, October 10, 2023 at 7:20:06 PM UTC-4, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> On Tuesday, October 10, 2023 at 1:49:23 PM UTC-4, George J. Dance wrote:
> > On Monday, October 9, 2023 at 2:00:29 PM UTC-4, MMP aka "Michael Pendragon" wrote:
> > > On Monday, October 9, 2023 at 1:02:55 PM UTC-4, Ash Wurthing wrote:
> > > > On Monday, October 9, 2023 at 12:33:16 PM UTC-4, Ash Wurthing wrote:
> > > > > > >
> > > > Allow Ash to spark a debate. Pendragon can correct me since he knows more of Ayn Rand that I care to know, but I belief the whole thing of second handing involved that architect character being afraid to move away from current trends.
> > > >
> > > The book contrasts the careers of two architects -- from their college days through their careers. Howard Roark is an iconoclastic visionary who drops out of school (he feels they have nothing more to teach him) and has difficulty securing financing/clients as his designs are too unique for the tastes of the common herd (he's modeled very loosely on Frank Lloyd Wright). Peter Keating, otoh, succeeds at both college and professionally. He is a mediocre designer with no original ideas. He follows the current trends (rectangular buildings that borrow decorative facades from various past cultures). Roark and Keating form a friendly enemies sort of relationship, with Roark despising Keating as an untalented servant to popular taste; and Keating both respects and (jealously) hates Roark for both his freedom of spirit and talent.
> > I'd agree with most of that, with a couple of exceptions.
> I'm glad that you mostly agree, as I'm going by memory from a book I read once, 30-odd years ago.

I have the book on my desk, in case I have to check anything. Let me spell that out, so you don't get the idea I'm trying to claim I know the book better than you do.

> > First, Roark and Keating did not have a relationship; they were classmates and housemates, so they were physically close, and Keating did have strong feelings for Roark - he was intermittently jealous and envious - but it's not clear that Roark ever thought of Keating when Keating wasn't in his face.

> I don't know how you define "relationship," but IMHO many relationships can be largely one-sided.

I'd usually define one as being mutual, but that's no big deal. What's important is that Roark did not despise Keating; he didn't care about Keating one way or another. That's a key to his personality; if he didn't see a value in someone, he wasn't interested in them. The idea that a superior man (which Roark was written to be) would despise his inferiors sounds like a Nietzschean idea rather than a Randian one. I think you got that idea because you were a Nietzschean when you read it -- indeed, the strong Nietzschean influence is probably what you liked most about it -- and, as I've noted, you tend to mix up your own thoughts with the author's when you read things.

> > Second, Roark and Keating were graduating from university, not school. ("School" makes them sound less mature than they were.)
> Contextually, "school" should not throw anyone off, since I open the paragraph by saying "The book contrasts the careers of two architects -- from their college days through their careers."
> In America, we informally refer to colleges and universities as "schools."

No big deal; I just wanted to make it clear that they weren't teenagers or "boys" (though they get called that a lot in the early chapters), but grown men with fully formed personalities. It's easy to chalk Roark's idealism up to immaturity, and think that he needed to "grow up". In fact, that's what his Dean tells him the day he expels him: he advises Roark to take a year or two off, grow up, and then reapply (in which case there was a good chance he'd be accepted, as the Dean had already discussed just that with the President).
> > Third, and most importantly, Roark did not drop out: he was expelled (just at the time his class, including Keating, graduated).

> As I said, I haven't read the book in over 30 years, but didn't he take the blame for something Peter did, thereby saving Peter's career? And when Peter asked him why he would sacrifice his career for him, he said that the university had nothing of value left to teach him?

I'd say that sounds like another book entirely, except that you've quoted one line almost verbatim: Roark does indeed say that "I have nothing further to learn here." But he says that to the Dean, in response to the offer I mentioned above.

> Getting expelled implies that one failed, or committed some offense that got him thrown out. Roark (again, IIRC) chose to get expelled to save his roommate's future. Whether he did this out of friendly feelings for Peter, or whether out of a sense of duty, as Roark, the Übermensch incarnate would succeed with or without a degree, whereas poor, untalented second-hander Peter would not.

That's all very reasonable, and it would make a good story, with a Nietzschean hero. But Roark isn't one. The book has a Nietzschean character (Gail Wynand), but Roark, as I said, is a Randian. I don't think he had any friendly feelings toward Keating, nor would he have done anything out of a sense of duty -- he didn't have a sense of duty.

Roark was expelled for "insubordination" -- when he was assigned to design a Renaissance villa or a Gothic cathedral or anything in a traditional style, he'd always turn in a Roark building. So while he aced his math and engineering courses, and managed a pass on his design ones, he'd antagonized quite a few of his professors.

> > > Eventually Keating gets a contract to design a high profile apartment building, but the task proves beyond his limited talents.
> > > He begs Roark to secretly help him out by designing it for him. Roark agrees -- but only on the promise that his designs will be carried out *exactly* as he's made them. Things start out fine, but as the building progresses, Keating has to make changes to the designs to appease the backers/clients. Keating is torn because he knows they are ruining Roark's design (which Keating was all set to get credit for), but he eventually caves under pressure. When Roark finds out about the changes, he feels that he has the right to blow the building up -- which he proceeds to do.

> > The only thing I'd add here is that Keating did not give Roark a "promise" - on Roark's insistence, they drew up a binding contract. That gave the prosecution a key piece of evidence (it established motive), but it also gave Roark his defense -- he was not paid for his service (designing the building), so he withdrew it.
> >
> I wasn't certain whether they had made a contract -- not that it would have done him any good in the real world. The building was the property of the men who'd commissioned Peter Keating to design it. They had no knowledge of Peter's contract with Roark, and Peter had no legal authority to make such a contract with Roark.

It is a novel, not the real world, and I have no idea what a modern jury would make of it. I don't remember whether Keating had the same condition in his contract with the city government -- that they build their housing project -- but it doesn't matter; not being a Randian, was too spineless to insist on it being included or too spineless to insist on it being honored.

> > > Roark is put on trial and miraculously wins.
> > Nothing miraculous about it. He convinced the judge and jury that he had a right to his IP (the building design) and therefore the right to not let Keating use it.

> I disagree.
>
> In the real world, one cannot blow up a building out of spite.

LOL! Roark did not say he did it out of spite. Understand the premises here.. This is a building that literally could not be built without Roark's design -- the city's representative, Ellsworth Toohey, had asked everyone he could in the country. The city had no right to use his ideas design. The only way he could stop them from using his design, after they'd built the buildng, was to destroy the building.

> The building belonged to the men who had *financed* its design and construction. It did not belong to Keating, and it did not belong to Roark.

The city government financed its construction, not its design; they got the design for free, without paying for it.
> Roark had worked on the building in secret, so his reputation would not have been hurt by the subpar building's existence.

It wasn't a matter of reputation. By the terms of the contract, Roark got only one thing out of his work; his building would have been constructed. But it wasn't; Toohey's advisory committee turned the finished product into a piece of shit, even though it depended on the ideas Roark had used in the original design; so Roark blew up the p.o.s. He didn't get paid for his ideas, so he took them back in the only way he could.
> Legally, Roark had no right to take the law into his own hands.
That's why he was charged and was having a jury trial. It's a good thing he picked a sympathetic jury.

> He had the right to sue Peter Keating for the time he had spent working on the project -- but that was *all* that he had the legal right to do.

On Wednesday, October 11, 2023 at 4:37:06 PM UTC-4, Faraway Star wrote:
> On Tuesday, October 10, 2023 at 1:49:23 PM UTC-4, George J. Dance wrote:
> > On Monday, October 9, 2023 at 2:00:29 PM UTC-4, MMP aka "Michael Pendragon" wrote:
> > > On Monday, October 9, 2023 at 1:02:55 PM UTC-4, Ash Wurthing wrote:
> >
> > > > Allow Ash to spark a debate. Pendragon can correct me since he knows more of Ayn Rand that I care to know, but I belief the whole thing of second handing involved that architect character being afraid to move away from current trends.
> > > >
> > > The book contrasts the careers of two architects -- from their college days through their careers. Howard Roark is an iconoclastic visionary who drops out of school (he feels they have nothing more to teach him) and has difficulty securing financing/clients as his designs are too unique for the tastes of the common herd (he's modeled very loosely on Frank Lloyd Wright). Peter Keating, otoh, succeeds at both college and professionally. He is a mediocre designer with no original ideas. He follows the current trends (rectangular buildings that borrow decorative facades from various past cultures). Roark and Keating form a friendly enemies sort of relationship, with Roark despising Keating as an untalented servant to popular taste; and Keating both respects and (jealously) hates Roark for both his freedom of spirit and talent.
> > I'd agree with most of that, with a couple of exceptions. First, Roark and Keating did not have a relationship; they were classmates and housemates, so they were physically close, and Keating did have strong feelings for Roark - he was intermittently jealous and envious - but it's not clear that Roark ever thought of Keating when Keating wasn't in his face. Second, Roark and Keating were graduating from university, not school. ("School" makes them sound less mature than they were.) Third, and most importantly, Roark did not drop out: he was expelled (just at the time his class, including Keating, graduated).
> > > Eventually Keating gets a contract to design a high profile apartment building, but the task proves beyond his limited talents.
> > > He begs Roark to secretly help him out by designing it for him. Roark agrees -- but only on the promise that his designs will be carried out *exactly* as he's made them. Things start out fine, but as the building progresses, Keating has to make changes to the designs to appease the backers/clients. Keating is torn because he knows they are ruining Roark's design (which Keating was all set to get credit for), but he eventually caves under pressure. When Roark finds out about the changes, he feels that he has the right to blow the building up -- which he proceeds to do.
> > The only thing I'd add here is that Keating did not give Roark a "promise" - on Roark's insistence, they drew up a binding contract. That gave the prosecution a key piece of evidence (it established motive), but it also gave Roark his defense -- he was not paid for his service (designing the building), so he withdrew it.
> > > Roark is put on trial and miraculously wins.
> > Nothing miraculous about it. He convinced the judge and jury that he had a right to his IP (the building design) and therefore the right to not let Keating use it.
> > > The publicity from his court case wins him new clients, while Keating is publicly disgraced.
> Good read, G.D.

Thanks. I feel like saying a bit more about it. I finished my last post to MMP by saying that some people probably don't understand what kind of a novel it is. As I read it, it's a "Russian philosophical novel" -- rather than try to explain in my own words what that means, I'll just give a quote from the source where I picked up the term: (Quotes are still OK with you, right? I've seen some complaints about them):

"Ayn Rand’s novels blend two distinct genres. She fits squarely into the tradition of the Russian philosophical novelists like Tolstoy and Dostoyevsky.[...] Some standard features of the Russian approach:
* Characters embody philosophical positions.
* The plot explores the implications of these philosophies on the characters’ lives.
* The conclusion of the novel vindicates the current philosophical position of the author....
"In /The Brothers Karamazov/, for instance, Ivan embodies idealistic atheism, Alyosha earnest Orthodox Christianity, Dmitri unreflective pragmatism, and Smerdyakov nihilism. The murder of the sons’ father tests their convictions. And (spoiler!) the revelation that Smerdyakov is the murderer ultimately discredits not only his nihilism, but Ivan’s idealistic atheism, for the latter paves the way for the former.
https://gdspoliticalanimal.blogspot.com/2019/02/ayn-rands-literary-roots.html

On Tuesday, October 10, 2023 at 3:27:37 PM UTC-4, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> On Tuesday, October 10, 2023 at 2:17:52 PM UTC-4, George J. Dance wrote:
> > On Tuesday, October 10, 2023 at 12:30:17 PM UTC-4, W.Dockery wrote:
> > > George J. Dance wrote:
> > >
> > > > On Monday, October 9, 2023 at 2:39:29 PM UTC-4, rachel wrote:
> > >
> > > >> i'm really pissed because i have on a couple occasions DREAMED of great poetry, and i wake up, and it fades away so quickly, i can't use it.
> > >
> > > > I had exactly that type of dream once. I never did remember any of the poem I dreamed, but at least I got to write a poem about the experience..
> > >
> > > > The poem at 3 a.m.
> > >
> > > > The poem at 3 a.m.
> > > > does not want to be written;
> > > > it visits only to mock you.
> > >
> > > > - gjd
> >
> > > I always liked that one. George.
> > Well, thank you for giving me the opportunity to talk about it. MMP did as well, but it would deflect from the conversation I'm having with him.
> >
> > As you know, I see the purpose of a poem as to communicate an epiphany: a thought, idea, or feeling that the reader hasn't had in just that way before, but I'm hoping he or she will get from the poem.
> >
> > In this case it's an alternate way of looking at reality, a different metaphysics: one in which poems are not the creations of people, but mind-independent things (very much like Platonic Ideas) that latch onto consciousnesses, like memes, or (to use a more scientific simile) like broadcasting signals hitting a receiver.
> >
> > It's not an original idea; I think I got it from John Denver, who believed that's where his songs came from. I also remember a poem from Gary Snyder, "How Poetry Comes to Me", which compared a poem taking shape in his mind to an unseen beast sniffing around outside his tent.
> >
> > I'm not saying, or trying to convince the reader, that poems are like that; I just want to open his mind to the possibility, to try it on as they say.
> >
> My favorite version of this idea was expressed by Emerson in his essay, "The Poet." I've quoted from it before, but it bears repeating:
>
> "For poetry was all written before time was, and whenever we are so finely organized that we can penetrate into that region where the air is music, we hear those primal warblings and attempt to write them down, but we lose ever and anon a word or a verse and substitute something of our own, and thus miswrite the poem. The men of more delicate ear write down these cadences more faithfully, and these transcripts, though imperfect, become the songs of the nations."
That's an excellent exposition, and Emerson (who's on my blog) is a much better source than either Denver or Snyder. Thank you for posting it.

> And, as I hope I've made clear on numerous occasions in the past, I thoroughly believe in it.
Probably why you liked the poem so much the first time you read it -- you got the idea immediately.

On Thursday, October 12, 2023 at 7:43:19 AM UTC-4, George J. Dance wrote:
> On Wednesday, October 11, 2023 at 4:37:06 PM UTC-4, Faraway Star wrote:
> > On Tuesday, October 10, 2023 at 1:49:23 PM UTC-4, George J. Dance wrote:
> > > On Monday, October 9, 2023 at 2:00:29 PM UTC-4, MMP aka "Michael Pendragon" wrote:
> > > > On Monday, October 9, 2023 at 1:02:55 PM UTC-4, Ash Wurthing wrote:
>
> > > > > Allow Ash to spark a debate. Pendragon can correct me since he knows more of Ayn Rand that I care to know, but I belief the whole thing of second handing involved that architect character being afraid to move away from current trends.
> > > > >
> > > > The book contrasts the careers of two architects -- from their college days through their careers. Howard Roark is an iconoclastic visionary who drops out of school (he feels they have nothing more to teach him) and has difficulty securing financing/clients as his designs are too unique for the tastes of the common herd (he's modeled very loosely on Frank Lloyd Wright). Peter Keating, otoh, succeeds at both college and professionally. He is a mediocre designer with no original ideas. He follows the current trends (rectangular buildings that borrow decorative facades from various past cultures). Roark and Keating form a friendly enemies sort of relationship, with Roark despising Keating as an untalented servant to popular taste; and Keating both respects and (jealously) hates Roark for both his freedom of spirit and talent.
> > > I'd agree with most of that, with a couple of exceptions. First, Roark and Keating did not have a relationship; they were classmates and housemates, so they were physically close, and Keating did have strong feelings for Roark - he was intermittently jealous and envious - but it's not clear that Roark ever thought of Keating when Keating wasn't in his face. Second, Roark and Keating were graduating from university, not school. ("School" makes them sound less mature than they were.) Third, and most importantly, Roark did not drop out: he was expelled (just at the time his class, including Keating, graduated).
> > > > Eventually Keating gets a contract to design a high profile apartment building, but the task proves beyond his limited talents.
> > > > He begs Roark to secretly help him out by designing it for him. Roark agrees -- but only on the promise that his designs will be carried out *exactly* as he's made them. Things start out fine, but as the building progresses, Keating has to make changes to the designs to appease the backers/clients. Keating is torn because he knows they are ruining Roark's design (which Keating was all set to get credit for), but he eventually caves under pressure. When Roark finds out about the changes, he feels that he has the right to blow the building up -- which he proceeds to do.
> > > The only thing I'd add here is that Keating did not give Roark a "promise" - on Roark's insistence, they drew up a binding contract. That gave the prosecution a key piece of evidence (it established motive), but it also gave Roark his defense -- he was not paid for his service (designing the building), so he withdrew it.
> > > > Roark is put on trial and miraculously wins.
> > > Nothing miraculous about it. He convinced the judge and jury that he had a right to his IP (the building design) and therefore the right to not let Keating use it.
> > > > The publicity from his court case wins him new clients, while Keating is publicly disgraced.
> > Good read, G.D.
> Thanks. I feel like saying a bit more about it. I finished my last post to MMP by saying that some people probably don't understand what kind of a novel it is. As I read it, it's a "Russian philosophical novel" -- rather than try to explain in my own words what that means, I'll just give a quote from the source where I picked up the term: (Quotes are still OK with you, right? I've seen some complaints about them):
>
> "Ayn Rand’s novels blend two distinct genres. She fits squarely into the tradition of the Russian philosophical novelists like Tolstoy and Dostoyevsky.[...] Some standard features of the Russian approach:
> * Characters embody philosophical positions.
> * The plot explores the implications of these philosophies on the characters’ lives.
> * The conclusion of the novel vindicates the current philosophical position of the author....
> "In /The Brothers Karamazov/, for instance, Ivan embodies idealistic atheism, Alyosha earnest Orthodox Christianity, Dmitri unreflective pragmatism, and Smerdyakov nihilism. The murder of the sons’ father tests their convictions. And (spoiler!) the revelation that Smerdyakov is the murderer ultimately discredits not only his nihilism, but Ivan’s idealistic atheism, for the latter paves the way for the former.
> https://gdspoliticalanimal.blogspot.com/2019/02/ayn-rands-literary-roots.html

"Notes From Underground" is a favorite from my younger days, I read Dostoyevsky from the recommendation of Jack Kerouac, who patterned one of his books on the Dostoevsky style.

On Thursday, October 12, 2023 at 7:12:24 AM UTC-4, George J. Dance wrote:
> On Tuesday, October 10, 2023 at 7:20:06 PM UTC-4, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > On Tuesday, October 10, 2023 at 1:49:23 PM UTC-4, George J. Dance wrote:
> > > On Monday, October 9, 2023 at 2:00:29 PM UTC-4, MMP aka "Michael Pendragon" wrote:
> > > > On Monday, October 9, 2023 at 1:02:55 PM UTC-4, Ash Wurthing wrote:
> > > > > On Monday, October 9, 2023 at 12:33:16 PM UTC-4, Ash Wurthing wrote:
> > > > > > > >
> > > > > Allow Ash to spark a debate. Pendragon can correct me since he knows more of Ayn Rand that I care to know, but I belief the whole thing of second handing involved that architect character being afraid to move away from current trends.
> > > > >
> > > > The book contrasts the careers of two architects -- from their college days through their careers. Howard Roark is an iconoclastic visionary who drops out of school (he feels they have nothing more to teach him) and has difficulty securing financing/clients as his designs are too unique for the tastes of the common herd (he's modeled very loosely on Frank Lloyd Wright). Peter Keating, otoh, succeeds at both college and professionally. He is a mediocre designer with no original ideas. He follows the current trends (rectangular buildings that borrow decorative facades from various past cultures). Roark and Keating form a friendly enemies sort of relationship, with Roark despising Keating as an untalented servant to popular taste; and Keating both respects and (jealously) hates Roark for both his freedom of spirit and talent.
> > > I'd agree with most of that, with a couple of exceptions.
> > I'm glad that you mostly agree, as I'm going by memory from a book I read once, 30-odd years ago.
> I have the book on my desk, in case I have to check anything. Let me spell that out, so you don't get the idea I'm trying to claim I know the book better than you do.

That's okay, George. I assume that you know it better than I do.

I read it once, 30-some years ago. I suspect that you've read it several times.

> > > First, Roark and Keating did not have a relationship; they were classmates and housemates, so they were physically close, and Keating did have strong feelings for Roark - he was intermittently jealous and envious - but it's not clear that Roark ever thought of Keating when Keating wasn't in his face.
>
> > I don't know how you define "relationship," but IMHO many relationships can be largely one-sided.
> I'd usually define one as being mutual, but that's no big deal. What's important is that Roark did not despise Keating; he didn't care about Keating one way or another.
That's a key to his personality; if he didn't see a value in someone, he wasn't interested in them. The idea that a superior man (which Roark was written to be) would despise his inferiors sounds like a Nietzschean idea rather than a Randian one.
>

This, too, is a matter of perspective (and, IMO, relevant to the point you raise immediately below). IOW: Roark finds Keating of so little worth that he doesn't bother wasting any thought on him.

For me, "despise" means that someone is "beneath contempt." And Keating, a second-hander who kowtows to authority, caters to popular taste, and lacks both artistic vision and integrity, occupies too low a place in Roark's estimation to be thougth-worthy.

I'm not saying that Roark hates Keating. He just hates the things that Keating represents. Were Roark capable of empathy, he would feel sorry for Keating.

> I think you got that idea because you were a Nietzschean when you read it -- indeed, the strong Nietzschean influence is probably what you liked most about it -- and, as I've noted, you tend to mix up your own thoughts with the author's when you read things.
>

First, I would like to point out that Rand was influenced by Nietzsche as well. Finding Nietzschean themes in Rand's work is practically a given.

Second, I believe that reading is an interactive experience between the reader and the author.

Nor do I feel that the author's intent, should take precedence over the interpretation of the reader. For instance, if all the poetry that ever was, or ever will be, written has existed from time immemorial in it perfect form in some Ideal plane of consciousness, and that it is the poet's task to attempt to "see" the perfect poem (insofar as his limited mortal senses allow) and to attempt to recreate it, as near to its perfected state as possible; it would follow that the same should hold true for prose.

This would mean that the author is not so much the creator of a tale, as they are a prophet transcribing a vision that welled up out of their subconscious. Jung has described this process regarding the invention of fairytales and myths (which, in turn, form the templates for modern novels), and such would hold true for even a proclaimed "egoist" like Rand.

Jung maintains that human beings share a "collective unconscious" which contains "living myths" that are common to us all. But we have only indirect access to these living myths (or "archetypes"). They must first be filtered through both our personal unconscious and our subconscious before they well up in our conscious mind. IOW: we view these living myths "through a glass darkly," which we hope our writing will clarify to some extent.

In this case, we may view the writer as playing a largely passive role in the creation (or, rather, transcription) of their work. Thus Milton begins his "Paradise Lost" with an invocation to his Muse ("Sing, Heavn'ly Muse") -- which leads directly to my point. Sometimes the author doesn't realize the true meaning of his work. In his epic poem, Milton stated that his purpose was to "justify the ways of God to men." But did he?

William Blake believed that Lucifer was the true hero of "Paradise Lost," and that Milton was "of the Devil's party without knowing it" and that "Milton’s Messiah is called Satan." This was the exact opposite of what Milton had intended to convey. But which poet is correct?

Certainly Milton's poem has been held as one of the great literary masterpieces since the time of its composition to the present. But it cannot be critiques without taking Blake's interpretation into account. Milton's "Lucifer" is generally held to be the first "Romantic" hero, and it is theorized that the Biblical book of "Adam and Eve," on which Milton based much of his poem, was declared uncanonical in response to Milton's poem (and for the same reasons).

So there's really no clear-cut answer here. The Judeo-Christian god is a monster (as Baron d'Holbach argued in his "Testament"); and to anyone with a Humanistic outlook, Lucifer is going to be seen as the hero. Otoh, those who unquestioningly accept the doctrines of Church are going to believe that God's actions were just.

Which brings us back to my allegedly mixing up my own thoughts with those of the author: when I read an author's work, I attempt to understand it *in terms of my knowledge/perception of the world and the human condition at the time.* It has been said that one should reread certain literary works ("King Lear," "Moby Dick," "Leaves of Grass," etc.) at different stages of one's life, as a young person will view the world differently than a middle aged, or elderly person. I shall turn 60 this month, and my interpretation of "The Fountainhead" may have changed considerably as a result.
> > > Second, Roark and Keating were graduating from university, not school.. ("School" makes them sound less mature than they were.)
> > Contextually, "school" should not throw anyone off, since I open the paragraph by saying "The book contrasts the careers of two architects -- from their college days through their careers."
> > In America, we informally refer to colleges and universities as "schools."
> No big deal; I just wanted to make it clear that they weren't teenagers or "boys" (though they get called that a lot in the early chapters), but grown men with fully formed personalities. It's easy to chalk Roark's idealism up to immaturity, and think that he needed to "grow up". In fact, that's what his Dean tells him the day he expels him: he advises Roark to take a year or two off, grow up, and then reapply (in which case there was a good chance he'd be accepted, as the Dean had already discussed just that with the President).
>

At the time that I read "The Fountainhead," I saw Roark as a rugged individualist/iconoclast -- in a similar vein to how I saw myself. Thinking back on him, I tend to feel that he's dangerously sociopathic (raping women because he thinks they want it, blowing up buildings because they weren't made according to his plans). Have I grown up... or has my spirit been placed in restraints? I think that Rand is an author for the young (college age), as they are getting ready to go out and take on the world. For those of us who've spent a lifetime simply trying to exist within that world, her Roarks and Galts seem like highly unrealistic role models. The real world would tear them to shreds (as it did to Valentine Michael Smith in Heinlein's literary masterpiece).

On Thursday, October 12, 2023 at 8:42:18 AM UTC-4, George J. Dance wrote:
> On Tuesday, October 10, 2023 at 3:27:37 PM UTC-4, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > On Tuesday, October 10, 2023 at 2:17:52 PM UTC-4, George J. Dance wrote:
> > > On Tuesday, October 10, 2023 at 12:30:17 PM UTC-4, W.Dockery wrote:
> > > > George J. Dance wrote:
> > > >
> > > > > On Monday, October 9, 2023 at 2:39:29 PM UTC-4, rachel wrote:
> > > >
> > > > >> i'm really pissed because i have on a couple occasions DREAMED of great poetry, and i wake up, and it fades away so quickly, i can't use it..
> > > >
> > > > > I had exactly that type of dream once. I never did remember any of the poem I dreamed, but at least I got to write a poem about the experience.
> > > >
> > > > > The poem at 3 a.m.
> > > >
> > > > > The poem at 3 a.m.
> > > > > does not want to be written;
> > > > > it visits only to mock you.
> > > >
> > > > > - gjd
> > >
> > > > I always liked that one. George.
> > > Well, thank you for giving me the opportunity to talk about it. MMP did as well, but it would deflect from the conversation I'm having with him.
> > >
> > > As you know, I see the purpose of a poem as to communicate an epiphany: a thought, idea, or feeling that the reader hasn't had in just that way before, but I'm hoping he or she will get from the poem.
> > >
> > > In this case it's an alternate way of looking at reality, a different metaphysics: one in which poems are not the creations of people, but mind-independent things (very much like Platonic Ideas) that latch onto consciousnesses, like memes, or (to use a more scientific simile) like broadcasting signals hitting a receiver.
> > >
> > > It's not an original idea; I think I got it from John Denver, who believed that's where his songs came from. I also remember a poem from Gary Snyder, "How Poetry Comes to Me", which compared a poem taking shape in his mind to an unseen beast sniffing around outside his tent.
> > >
> > > I'm not saying, or trying to convince the reader, that poems are like that; I just want to open his mind to the possibility, to try it on as they say.
> > >
> > My favorite version of this idea was expressed by Emerson in his essay, "The Poet." I've quoted from it before, but it bears repeating:
> >
> > "For poetry was all written before time was, and whenever we are so finely organized that we can penetrate into that region where the air is music, we hear those primal warblings and attempt to write them down, but we lose ever and anon a word or a verse and substitute something of our own, and thus miswrite the poem. The men of more delicate ear write down these cadences more faithfully, and these transcripts, though imperfect, become the songs of the nations."
> That's an excellent exposition, and Emerson (who's on my blog) is a much better source than either Denver or Snyder. Thank you for posting it.
> > And, as I hope I've made clear on numerous occasions in the past, I thoroughly believe in it.
> Probably why you liked the poem so much the first time you read it -- you got the idea immediately.
I got it, and identified with it.

Returning to Emerson's essay, "The Poet," one of my favorite poetry videos was based on it:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g-H2KPqaHds

As a poem, it's a failure insofar as I doubt that people are going to be able to understand it without knowing the story behind it.

Emerson wrote:

"For poetry was all written before time was, and whenever we are so finely organized that we can penetrate into that region where the air is music, we hear those primal warblings and attempt to write them down, but we lose ever and anon a word or a verse and substitute something of our own, and thus miswrite the poem. The men of more delicate ear write down these cadences more faithfully, and these transcripts, though imperfect, become the songs of the nations."

My poem is about the poems that have existed before time that have yet to be/may never be divined by a prophet/poet.

Since thousands of poems (perhaps even millions of poems) are being written every day, one assumes that the as yet unwritten "Lost Poems" must be virtually numberless.

And since humankind, the universe, and time are all finite, one may further surmise that the majority of these poems will remain forever unknown.

I believe that this is one of life's greatest tragedies -- and one that is rarely, if ever recognized -- that there are an infinite number of perfect poems, songs, novels, paintings, sculptures, etc., out there that will never be revealed to us.

Michael Pendragon
“Oh, don't be silly.
Dockery's trademark is a turd with a liplock on it.
(You've seen his other ‘drawings.’ It only /looks like/ he's
sucking cock.)”
-- Dennis M. Hammes on Will Dockery.

On Friday, October 13, 2023 at 10:51:15 AM UTC-7, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> Returning to Emerson's essay, "The Poet," one of my favorite poetry videos was based on it:
>
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g-H2KPqaHds
>
> As a poem, it's a failure insofar as I doubt that people are going to be able to understand it without knowing the story behind it.
> Emerson wrote:
>
> "For poetry was all written before time was, and whenever we are so finely organized that we can penetrate into that region where the air is music, we hear those primal warblings and attempt to write them down, but we lose ever and anon a word or a verse and substitute something of our own, and thus miswrite the poem. The men of more delicate ear write down these cadences more faithfully, and these transcripts, though imperfect, become the songs of the nations."
> My poem is about the poems that have existed before time that have yet to be/may never be divined by a prophet/poet.
>
> Since thousands of poems (perhaps even millions of poems) are being written every day, one assumes that the as yet unwritten "Lost Poems" must be virtually numberless.
>
> And since humankind, the universe, and time are all finite, one may further surmise that the majority of these poems will remain forever unknown.
>
> I believe that this is one of life's greatest tragedies -- and one that is rarely, if ever recognized -- that there are an infinite number of perfect poems, songs, novels, paintings, sculptures, etc., out there that will never be revealed to us.
>
>
>
> Michael Pendragon
> “Oh, don't be silly.
> Dockery's trademark is a turd with a liplock on it.
> (You've seen his other ‘drawings.’ It only /looks like/ he's
> sucking cock.)”
> -- Dennis M. Hammes on Will Dockery.

what do you mean time is finite

On Friday, October 13, 2023 at 2:40:56 PM UTC-4, rachel wrote:
> On Friday, October 13, 2023 at 10:51:15 AM UTC-7, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > Returning to Emerson's essay, "The Poet," one of my favorite poetry videos was based on it:
> >
> > https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g-H2KPqaHds
> >
> > As a poem, it's a failure insofar as I doubt that people are going to be able to understand it without knowing the story behind it.
> > Emerson wrote:
> >
> > "For poetry was all written before time was, and whenever we are so finely organized that we can penetrate into that region where the air is music, we hear those primal warblings and attempt to write them down, but we lose ever and anon a word or a verse and substitute something of our own, and thus miswrite the poem. The men of more delicate ear write down these cadences more faithfully, and these transcripts, though imperfect, become the songs of the nations."
> > My poem is about the poems that have existed before time that have yet to be/may never be divined by a prophet/poet.
> >
> > Since thousands of poems (perhaps even millions of poems) are being written every day, one assumes that the as yet unwritten "Lost Poems" must be virtually numberless.
> >
> > And since humankind, the universe, and time are all finite, one may further surmise that the majority of these poems will remain forever unknown.
> >
> > I believe that this is one of life's greatest tragedies -- and one that is rarely, if ever recognized -- that there are an infinite number of perfect poems, songs, novels, paintings, sculptures, etc., out there that will never be revealed to us.
> >
> >
> >
> > Michael Pendragon
> > “Oh, don't be silly.
> > Dockery's trademark is a turd with a liplock on it.
> > (You've seen his other ‘drawings.’ It only /looks like/ he's
> > sucking cock.)”
> > -- Dennis M. Hammes on Will Dockery.
> what do you mean time is finite

In the words of Aldous Huxley: "Time must have a stop."

Or, to quote one of the Pendragonian Proverbs: "Time is created with clocks.."

I believe that our perception of time as a progression from moment to moment is false.

Time begins and ends with each human consciousness.

We each have our own timeline (or life span), and every moment of that timeline (from the first to the last) is eternal.

And although we perceive these moments as progressing in a causal manner from the cradle to the tomb, they are actually happening simultaneously in an eternal present.

But even though they are "eternal" (in that they exist in an unchanging state forever), they are finite in that they are limited to the proverbial "three score and ten" years (give or take) that make up each individual life span.

My timeline began in October of 1963 and will end in... whatever year I appear to die.

Insofar as the statement in my above essay is concerned, I have roughly 70 years in which to discover and transcribe as many of the preexistent poems as possible. Since I'm on the verge of turning 60, I've only got about 10 years left in which to do this.

And, since there are, theoretically, an infinite number of poems, my 10 years would barely make a dint in the number of poems that are waiting to be found, captured, and shared.

Michael Pendragon
"Generally, East Coast refers to NYC."
-- Will Dockery, village idiot

On Friday, October 13, 2023 at 3:00:00 PM UTC-4, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> On Friday, October 13, 2023 at 2:40:56 PM UTC-4, rachel wrote:
> > On Friday, October 13, 2023 at 10:51:15 AM UTC-7, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > > Returning to Emerson's essay, "The Poet," one of my favorite poetry videos was based on it:
> > >
> > > https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g-H2KPqaHds
> > >
> > > As a poem, it's a failure insofar as I doubt that people are going to be able to understand it without knowing the story behind it.
> > > Emerson wrote:
> > >
> > > "For poetry was all written before time was, and whenever we are so finely organized that we can penetrate into that region where the air is music, we hear those primal warblings and attempt to write them down, but we lose ever and anon a word or a verse and substitute something of our own, and thus miswrite the poem. The men of more delicate ear write down these cadences more faithfully, and these transcripts, though imperfect, become the songs of the nations."
> > > My poem is about the poems that have existed before time that have yet to be/may never be divined by a prophet/poet.
> > >
> > > Since thousands of poems (perhaps even millions of poems) are being written every day, one assumes that the as yet unwritten "Lost Poems" must be virtually numberless.
> > >
> > > And since humankind, the universe, and time are all finite, one may further surmise that the majority of these poems will remain forever unknown..
> > >
> > > I believe that this is one of life's greatest tragedies -- and one that is rarely, if ever recognized -- that there are an infinite number of perfect poems, songs, novels, paintings, sculptures, etc., out there that will never be revealed to us.
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > Michael Pendragon
> > > “Oh, don't be silly.
> > > Dockery's trademark is a turd with a liplock on it.
> > > (You've seen his other ‘drawings.’ It only /looks like/ he's
> > > sucking cock.)”
> > > -- Dennis M. Hammes on Will Dockery.
> > what do you mean time is finite
> In the words of Aldous Huxley: "Time must have a stop."
>
> Or, to quote one of the Pendragonian Proverbs: "Time is created with clocks."
>
> I believe that our perception of time as a progression from moment to moment is false.
>
> Time begins and ends with each human consciousness.
>
> We each have our own timeline (or life span), and every moment of that timeline (from the first to the last) is eternal.
>
> And although we perceive these moments as progressing in a causal manner from the cradle to the tomb, they are actually happening simultaneously in an eternal present.
>
> But even though they are "eternal" (in that they exist in an unchanging state forever), they are finite in that they are limited to the proverbial "three score and ten" years (give or take) that make up each individual life span.
>
> My timeline began in October of 1963 and will end in... whatever year I appear to die.
>
> Insofar as the statement in my above essay is concerned, I have roughly 70 years in which to discover and transcribe as many of the preexistent poems as possible. Since I'm on the verge of turning 60, I've only got about 10 years left in which to do this.
>
> And, since there are, theoretically, an infinite number of poems, my 10 years would barely make a dint in the number of poems that are waiting to be found, captured, and shared.
>

Not to complicate the matter, but...

....the other option is that only a finite number of poems have existed from "before time," and that the last one will be transcribed just as the universe ends.

This concept, however, limits a specific number of possible poems to each universe, whereas in the previously discussed interpretation, the poems exist outside of time and space.

Michael Pendragon
"I've done the limp wristed coffeehouse thing many times, and hands
down, they prefer me, a man of action, over a limp wristed coffee
sipping academic wannabe... not that there's anything "wrong" with
being that. *smirk*"
-- Will “Giggling at Gays” Dockery

On Friday, October 13, 2023 at 11:40:56 AM UTC-7, rachel wrote:
> On Friday, October 13, 2023 at 10:51:15 AM UTC-7, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > Returning to Emerson's essay, "The Poet," one of my favorite poetry videos was based on it:
> >
> > https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g-H2KPqaHds
> >
> > As a poem, it's a failure insofar as I doubt that people are going to be able to understand it without knowing the story behind it.
> > Emerson wrote:
> >
> > "For poetry was all written before time was, and whenever we are so finely organized that we can penetrate into that region where the air is music, we hear those primal warblings and attempt to write them down, but we lose ever and anon a word or a verse and substitute something of our own, and thus miswrite the poem. The men of more delicate ear write down these cadences more faithfully, and these transcripts, though imperfect, become the songs of the nations."
> > My poem is about the poems that have existed before time that have yet to be/may never be divined by a prophet/poet.
> >
> > Since thousands of poems (perhaps even millions of poems) are being written every day, one assumes that the as yet unwritten "Lost Poems" must be virtually numberless.
> >
> > And since humankind, the universe, and time are all finite, one may further surmise that the majority of these poems will remain forever unknown.
> >
> > I believe that this is one of life's greatest tragedies -- and one that is rarely, if ever recognized -- that there are an infinite number of perfect poems, songs, novels, paintings, sculptures, etc., out there that will never be revealed to us.
> >
> >
> >
> > Michael Pendragon
> > “Oh, don't be silly.
> > Dockery's trademark is a turd with a liplock on it.
> > (You've seen his other ‘drawings.’ It only /looks like/ he's
> > sucking cock.)”
> > -- Dennis M. Hammes on Will Dockery.
> what do you mean time is finite

i sort of forgot the definition of time....i guess i meant numbers....

my natural aptitude for math abruptly halted at co-sine

On Saturday, October 14, 2023 at 11:39:14 AM UTC-4, rachel wrote:
> On Friday, October 13, 2023 at 11:40:56 AM UTC-7, rachel wrote:
> > On Friday, October 13, 2023 at 10:51:15 AM UTC-7, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > > Returning to Emerson's essay, "The Poet," one of my favorite poetry videos was based on it:
> > >
> > > https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g-H2KPqaHds
> > >
> > > As a poem, it's a failure insofar as I doubt that people are going to be able to understand it without knowing the story behind it.
> > > Emerson wrote:
> > >
> > > "For poetry was all written before time was, and whenever we are so finely organized that we can penetrate into that region where the air is music, we hear those primal warblings and attempt to write them down, but we lose ever and anon a word or a verse and substitute something of our own, and thus miswrite the poem. The men of more delicate ear write down these cadences more faithfully, and these transcripts, though imperfect, become the songs of the nations."
> > > My poem is about the poems that have existed before time that have yet to be/may never be divined by a prophet/poet.
> > >
> > > Since thousands of poems (perhaps even millions of poems) are being written every day, one assumes that the as yet unwritten "Lost Poems" must be virtually numberless.
> > >
> > > And since humankind, the universe, and time are all finite, one may further surmise that the majority of these poems will remain forever unknown..
> > >
> > > I believe that this is one of life's greatest tragedies -- and one that is rarely, if ever recognized -- that there are an infinite number of perfect poems, songs, novels, paintings, sculptures, etc., out there that will never be revealed to us.
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > Michael Pendragon
> > > “Oh, don't be silly.
> > > Dockery's trademark is a turd with a liplock on it.
> > > (You've seen his other ‘drawings.’ It only /looks like/ he's
> > > sucking cock.)”
> > > -- Dennis M. Hammes on Will Dockery.
> > what do you mean time is finite
> i sort of forgot the definition of time....i guess i meant numbers....
>
> my natural aptitude for math abruptly halted at co-sine

Numbers. I think he's roughly arguing:
(1) Every person has a finite number (of seconds) to live.
(2) Humanity as a whole (ie, past, present, and future) consists of a finite number of people.
(3) Humanity as a whole has a finite number (of seconds) to live.

That part of his argument is sound and valid.

On Saturday, October 14, 2023 at 1:52:20 PM UTC-4, George J. Dance wrote:
> On Saturday, October 14, 2023 at 11:39:14 AM UTC-4, rachel wrote:
> > On Friday, October 13, 2023 at 11:40:56 AM UTC-7, rachel wrote:
> > > On Friday, October 13, 2023 at 10:51:15 AM UTC-7, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > > > Returning to Emerson's essay, "The Poet," one of my favorite poetry videos was based on it:
> > > >
> > > > https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g-H2KPqaHds
> > > >
> > > > As a poem, it's a failure insofar as I doubt that people are going to be able to understand it without knowing the story behind it.
> > > > Emerson wrote:
> > > >
> > > > "For poetry was all written before time was, and whenever we are so finely organized that we can penetrate into that region where the air is music, we hear those primal warblings and attempt to write them down, but we lose ever and anon a word or a verse and substitute something of our own, and thus miswrite the poem. The men of more delicate ear write down these cadences more faithfully, and these transcripts, though imperfect, become the songs of the nations."
> > > > My poem is about the poems that have existed before time that have yet to be/may never be divined by a prophet/poet.
> > > >
> > > > Since thousands of poems (perhaps even millions of poems) are being written every day, one assumes that the as yet unwritten "Lost Poems" must be virtually numberless.
> > > >
> > > > And since humankind, the universe, and time are all finite, one may further surmise that the majority of these poems will remain forever unknown.
> > > >
> > > > I believe that this is one of life's greatest tragedies -- and one that is rarely, if ever recognized -- that there are an infinite number of perfect poems, songs, novels, paintings, sculptures, etc., out there that will never be revealed to us.
> > > >
> > > >
> > > >
> > > > Michael Pendragon
> > > > “Oh, don't be silly.
> > > > Dockery's trademark is a turd with a liplock on it.
> > > > (You've seen his other ‘drawings.’ It only /looks like/ he's
> > > > sucking cock.)”
> > > > -- Dennis M. Hammes on Will Dockery.
> > > what do you mean time is finite
> > i sort of forgot the definition of time....i guess i meant numbers....
> >
> > my natural aptitude for math abruptly halted at co-sine
> Numbers. I think he's roughly arguing:
> (1) Every person has a finite number (of seconds) to live.
> (2) Humanity as a whole (ie, past, present, and future) consists of a finite number of people.
> (3) Humanity as a whole has a finite number (of seconds) to live.
>
> That part of his argument is sound and valid.

I'm afraid that's not it.

I'm saying that:

1) An infinite number of poems exist *outside of time* in some indefinable abstract plane (much like Platonic Ideals).
2) The poet's task is to use his psychic vision to see these poems "through a glass darkly," and to transcribe them for others to read.
3) The universe exists *within* time. It has a timeline with both a beginning and an end.
4) When the universe ends, there will still be an infinite amount of poems in the abstract plane that have never been discovered and transcribed.
5) These poems will forever remain unknown. Therefore, they may be considered "lost."
6) That an infinite number of poems should remain forever undiscovered, unrealized, unknown... is one of life's greatest tragedies.

On Saturday, October 14, 2023 at 2:03:40 PM UTC-4, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> On Saturday, October 14, 2023 at 1:52:20 PM UTC-4, George J. Dance wrote:
> > On Saturday, October 14, 2023 at 11:39:14 AM UTC-4, rachel wrote:
> > > On Friday, October 13, 2023 at 11:40:56 AM UTC-7, rachel wrote:
> > > > On Friday, October 13, 2023 at 10:51:15 AM UTC-7, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > > > > Returning to Emerson's essay, "The Poet," one of my favorite poetry videos was based on it:
> > > > >
> > > > > https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g-H2KPqaHds
> > > > >
> > > > > As a poem, it's a failure insofar as I doubt that people are going to be able to understand it without knowing the story behind it.
> > > > > Emerson wrote:
> > > > >
> > > > > "For poetry was all written before time was, and whenever we are so finely organized that we can penetrate into that region where the air is music, we hear those primal warblings and attempt to write them down, but we lose ever and anon a word or a verse and substitute something of our own, and thus miswrite the poem. The men of more delicate ear write down these cadences more faithfully, and these transcripts, though imperfect, become the songs of the nations."
> > > > > My poem is about the poems that have existed before time that have yet to be/may never be divined by a prophet/poet.
> > > > >
> > > > > Since thousands of poems (perhaps even millions of poems) are being written every day, one assumes that the as yet unwritten "Lost Poems" must be virtually numberless.
> > > > >
> > > > > And since humankind, the universe, and time are all finite, one may further surmise that the majority of these poems will remain forever unknown.
> > > > >
> > > > > I believe that this is one of life's greatest tragedies -- and one that is rarely, if ever recognized -- that there are an infinite number of perfect poems, songs, novels, paintings, sculptures, etc., out there that will never be revealed to us.
> > > > >
> > > > >
> > > > >
> > > > > Michael Pendragon
> > > > > “Oh, don't be silly.
> > > > > Dockery's trademark is a turd with a liplock on it.
> > > > > (You've seen his other ‘drawings.’ It only /looks like/ he's
> > > > > sucking cock.)”
> > > > > -- Dennis M. Hammes on Will Dockery.
> > > > what do you mean time is finite
> > > i sort of forgot the definition of time....i guess i meant numbers.....
> > >
> > > my natural aptitude for math abruptly halted at co-sine
> > Numbers. I think he's roughly arguing:
> > (1) Every person has a finite number (of seconds) to live.
> > (2) Humanity as a whole (ie, past, present, and future) consists of a finite number of people.
> > (3) Humanity as a whole has a finite number (of seconds) to live.
> >
> > That part of his argument is sound and valid.
> I'm afraid that's not it.
>
> I'm saying that:
>
> 1) An infinite number of poems exist *outside of time* in some indefinable abstract plane (much like Platonic Ideals).
> 2) The poet's task is to use his psychic vision to see these poems "through a glass darkly," and to transcribe them for others to read.
> 3) The universe exists *within* time. It has a timeline with both a beginning and an end.
> 4) When the universe ends, there will still be an infinite amount of poems in the abstract plane that have never been discovered and transcribed.
> 5) These poems will forever remain unknown. Therefore, they may be considered "lost."
> 6) That an infinite number of poems should remain forever undiscovered, unrealized, unknown... is one of life's greatest tragedies.

Fair enough; you're using your point (3) rather than the argument I gave Rachel. to show that "time is finite" - that's a premise you're stating, not arguing for. But that's your premise (3) assumes that there's only one universe; whereas in fact there could be an infinite number of universes; in which case time would be infinite, and your point (5) would not follow.

On Thursday, August 3, 2023 at 10:40:22 PM UTC-4, Ash Wurthing wrote:
> On Thursday, August 3, 2023 at 4:53:56 PM UTC-4, Faraway Star wrote:
> > On Thursday, August 3, 2023 at 5:42:10 AM UTC-4, roach wrote:
> > >
> > > beauty sleep i see.
> > >
> > > i apologize if my comment offended anybody. it was just a dumb joke.
> > >
> > > i make food and fat jokes, too, you know.
> > >
> > > fat, the bane of my existence,.
> > This is Usenet, folks need to take this lighter...
> Perhaps, you should too...

IKYABWIR? That's an interesting variant on IKYABWAI.

> But then, with something pathetic, what else is there for it but pity or scorn?

> I pity the fools who think they can garner anything worthwhile from others that hate them for what they do-- any other readers for you fools have gone on to greener pastures...
> So scorn is all you sow.
>
> I know not of beauty, so there's no need for rest for this ugly soul--

On Saturday, October 14, 2023 at 11:03:40 AM UTC-7, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> On Saturday, October 14, 2023 at 1:52:20 PM UTC-4, George J. Dance wrote:
> > On Saturday, October 14, 2023 at 11:39:14 AM UTC-4, rachel wrote:
> > > On Friday, October 13, 2023 at 11:40:56 AM UTC-7, rachel wrote:
> > > > On Friday, October 13, 2023 at 10:51:15 AM UTC-7, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > > > > Returning to Emerson's essay, "The Poet," one of my favorite poetry videos was based on it:
> > > > >
> > > > > https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g-H2KPqaHds
> > > > >
> > > > > As a poem, it's a failure insofar as I doubt that people are going to be able to understand it without knowing the story behind it.
> > > > > Emerson wrote:
> > > > >
> > > > > "For poetry was all written before time was, and whenever we are so finely organized that we can penetrate into that region where the air is music, we hear those primal warblings and attempt to write them down, but we lose ever and anon a word or a verse and substitute something of our own, and thus miswrite the poem. The men of more delicate ear write down these cadences more faithfully, and these transcripts, though imperfect, become the songs of the nations."
> > > > > My poem is about the poems that have existed before time that have yet to be/may never be divined by a prophet/poet.
> > > > >
> > > > > Since thousands of poems (perhaps even millions of poems) are being written every day, one assumes that the as yet unwritten "Lost Poems" must be virtually numberless.
> > > > >
> > > > > And since humankind, the universe, and time are all finite, one may further surmise that the majority of these poems will remain forever unknown.
> > > > >
> > > > > I believe that this is one of life's greatest tragedies -- and one that is rarely, if ever recognized -- that there are an infinite number of perfect poems, songs, novels, paintings, sculptures, etc., out there that will never be revealed to us.
> > > > >
> > > > >
> > > > >
> > > > > Michael Pendragon
> > > > > “Oh, don't be silly.
> > > > > Dockery's trademark is a turd with a liplock on it.
> > > > > (You've seen his other ‘drawings.’ It only /looks like/ he's
> > > > > sucking cock.)”
> > > > > -- Dennis M. Hammes on Will Dockery.
> > > > what do you mean time is finite
> > > i sort of forgot the definition of time....i guess i meant numbers.....
> > >
> > > my natural aptitude for math abruptly halted at co-sine
> > Numbers. I think he's roughly arguing:
> > (1) Every person has a finite number (of seconds) to live.
> > (2) Humanity as a whole (ie, past, present, and future) consists of a finite number of people.
> > (3) Humanity as a whole has a finite number (of seconds) to live.
> >
> > That part of his argument is sound and valid.
> I'm afraid that's not it.
>
> I'm saying that:
>
> 1) An infinite number of poems exist *outside of time* in some indefinable abstract plane (much like Platonic Ideals).
> 2) The poet's task is to use his psychic vision to see these poems "through a glass darkly," and to transcribe them for others to read.
> 3) The universe exists *within* time. It has a timeline with both a beginning and an end.
> 4) When the universe ends, there will still be an infinite amount of poems in the abstract plane that have never been discovered and transcribed.
> 5) These poems will forever remain unknown. Therefore, they may be considered "lost."
> 6) That an infinite number of poems should remain forever undiscovered, unrealized, unknown... is one of life's greatest tragedies.

i like these last two posts thank you (good reading for one buried in 2many pounds of klippingzz 💡)

On Saturday, October 14, 2023 at 2:23:57 PM UTC-4, rachel wrote:
> On Saturday, October 14, 2023 at 11:03:40 AM UTC-7, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > On Saturday, October 14, 2023 at 1:52:20 PM UTC-4, George J. Dance wrote:
> > > On Saturday, October 14, 2023 at 11:39:14 AM UTC-4, rachel wrote:
> > > > On Friday, October 13, 2023 at 11:40:56 AM UTC-7, rachel wrote:
> > > > > On Friday, October 13, 2023 at 10:51:15 AM UTC-7, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > > > > > Returning to Emerson's essay, "The Poet," one of my favorite poetry videos was based on it:
> > > > > >
> > > > > > https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g-H2KPqaHds
> > > > > >
> > > > > > As a poem, it's a failure insofar as I doubt that people are going to be able to understand it without knowing the story behind it.
> > > > > > Emerson wrote:
> > > > > >
> > > > > > "For poetry was all written before time was, and whenever we are so finely organized that we can penetrate into that region where the air is music, we hear those primal warblings and attempt to write them down, but we lose ever and anon a word or a verse and substitute something of our own, and thus miswrite the poem. The men of more delicate ear write down these cadences more faithfully, and these transcripts, though imperfect, become the songs of the nations."
> > > > > > My poem is about the poems that have existed before time that have yet to be/may never be divined by a prophet/poet.
> > > > > >
> > > > > > Since thousands of poems (perhaps even millions of poems) are being written every day, one assumes that the as yet unwritten "Lost Poems" must be virtually numberless.
> > > > > >
> > > > > > And since humankind, the universe, and time are all finite, one may further surmise that the majority of these poems will remain forever unknown.
> > > > > >
> > > > > > I believe that this is one of life's greatest tragedies -- and one that is rarely, if ever recognized -- that there are an infinite number of perfect poems, songs, novels, paintings, sculptures, etc., out there that will never be revealed to us.
> > > > > >
> > > > > >
> > > > > >
> > > > > > Michael Pendragon
> > > > > > “Oh, don't be silly.
> > > > > > Dockery's trademark is a turd with a liplock on it.
> > > > > > (You've seen his other ‘drawings.’ It only /looks like/ he's
> > > > > > sucking cock.)”
> > > > > > -- Dennis M. Hammes on Will Dockery.
> > > > > what do you mean time is finite
> > > > i sort of forgot the definition of time....i guess i meant numbers.....
> > > >
> > > > my natural aptitude for math abruptly halted at co-sine
> > > Numbers. I think he's roughly arguing:
> > > (1) Every person has a finite number (of seconds) to live.
> > > (2) Humanity as a whole (ie, past, present, and future) consists of a finite number of people.
> > > (3) Humanity as a whole has a finite number (of seconds) to live.
> > >
> > > That part of his argument is sound and valid.
> > I'm afraid that's not it.
> >
> > I'm saying that:
> >
> > 1) An infinite number of poems exist *outside of time* in some indefinable abstract plane (much like Platonic Ideals).
> > 2) The poet's task is to use his psychic vision to see these poems "through a glass darkly," and to transcribe them for others to read.
> > 3) The universe exists *within* time. It has a timeline with both a beginning and an end.
> > 4) When the universe ends, there will still be an infinite amount of poems in the abstract plane that have never been discovered and transcribed.
> > 5) These poems will forever remain unknown. Therefore, they may be considered "lost."
> > 6) That an infinite number of poems should remain forever undiscovered, unrealized, unknown... is one of life's greatest tragedies.

> i like these last two posts thank you (good reading for one buried in 2many pounds of klippingzz 💡)

I'm glad you like it. We hardly ever discuss philosophy here, and when I bring it up it's usually ruled "off-topic" under Group A's Guidelines; so I'm glad it's been allowed here for now.

Basically he's saying that an infinite number of poems exist, but that they don't exist in the universe; nor in any other universe.

On Saturday, October 14, 2023 at 2:30:27 PM UTC-4, George J. Dance wrote:
> On Saturday, October 14, 2023 at 2:23:57 PM UTC-4, rachel wrote:
> > On Saturday, October 14, 2023 at 11:03:40 AM UTC-7, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > > On Saturday, October 14, 2023 at 1:52:20 PM UTC-4, George J. Dance wrote:
> > > > On Saturday, October 14, 2023 at 11:39:14 AM UTC-4, rachel wrote:
> > > > > On Friday, October 13, 2023 at 11:40:56 AM UTC-7, rachel wrote:
> > > > > > On Friday, October 13, 2023 at 10:51:15 AM UTC-7, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > > > > > > Returning to Emerson's essay, "The Poet," one of my favorite poetry videos was based on it:
> > > > > > >
> > > > > > > https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g-H2KPqaHds
> > > > > > >
> > > > > > > As a poem, it's a failure insofar as I doubt that people are going to be able to understand it without knowing the story behind it.
> > > > > > > Emerson wrote:
> > > > > > >
> > > > > > > "For poetry was all written before time was, and whenever we are so finely organized that we can penetrate into that region where the air is music, we hear those primal warblings and attempt to write them down, but we lose ever and anon a word or a verse and substitute something of our own, and thus miswrite the poem. The men of more delicate ear write down these cadences more faithfully, and these transcripts, though imperfect, become the songs of the nations."
> > > > > > > My poem is about the poems that have existed before time that have yet to be/may never be divined by a prophet/poet.
> > > > > > >
> > > > > > > Since thousands of poems (perhaps even millions of poems) are being written every day, one assumes that the as yet unwritten "Lost Poems" must be virtually numberless.
> > > > > > >
> > > > > > > And since humankind, the universe, and time are all finite, one may further surmise that the majority of these poems will remain forever unknown.
> > > > > > >
> > > > > > > I believe that this is one of life's greatest tragedies -- and one that is rarely, if ever recognized -- that there are an infinite number of perfect poems, songs, novels, paintings, sculptures, etc., out there that will never be revealed to us.
> > > > > > >
> > > > > > >
> > > > > > >
> > > > > > > Michael Pendragon
> > > > > > > “Oh, don't be silly.
> > > > > > > Dockery's trademark is a turd with a liplock on it.
> > > > > > > (You've seen his other ‘drawings.’ It only /looks like/ he's
> > > > > > > sucking cock.)”
> > > > > > > -- Dennis M. Hammes on Will Dockery.
> > > > > > what do you mean time is finite
> > > > > i sort of forgot the definition of time....i guess i meant numbers....
> > > > >
> > > > > my natural aptitude for math abruptly halted at co-sine
> > > > Numbers. I think he's roughly arguing:
> > > > (1) Every person has a finite number (of seconds) to live.
> > > > (2) Humanity as a whole (ie, past, present, and future) consists of a finite number of people.
> > > > (3) Humanity as a whole has a finite number (of seconds) to live.
> > > >
> > > > That part of his argument is sound and valid.
> > > I'm afraid that's not it.
> > >
> > > I'm saying that:
> > >
> > > 1) An infinite number of poems exist *outside of time* in some indefinable abstract plane (much like Platonic Ideals).
> > > 2) The poet's task is to use his psychic vision to see these poems "through a glass darkly," and to transcribe them for others to read.
> > > 3) The universe exists *within* time. It has a timeline with both a beginning and an end.
> > > 4) When the universe ends, there will still be an infinite amount of poems in the abstract plane that have never been discovered and transcribed..
> > > 5) These poems will forever remain unknown. Therefore, they may be considered "lost."
> > > 6) That an infinite number of poems should remain forever undiscovered, unrealized, unknown... is one of life's greatest tragedies.
>
> > i like these last two posts thank you (good reading for one buried in 2many pounds of klippingzz 💡)
> I'm glad you like it. We hardly ever discuss philosophy here, and when I bring it up it's usually ruled "off-topic" under Group A's Guidelines; so I'm glad it's been allowed here for now.
>
> Basically he's saying that an infinite number of poems exist, but that they don't exist in the universe; nor in any other universe.

The concept of the "Multiverse" is becoming accepted more and more now, though.

On Saturday, October 14, 2023 at 11:30:27 AM UTC-7, George J. Dance wrote:
> On Saturday, October 14, 2023 at 2:23:57 PM UTC-4, rachel wrote:
> > On Saturday, October 14, 2023 at 11:03:40 AM UTC-7, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > > On Saturday, October 14, 2023 at 1:52:20 PM UTC-4, George J. Dance wrote:
> > > > On Saturday, October 14, 2023 at 11:39:14 AM UTC-4, rachel wrote:
> > > > > On Friday, October 13, 2023 at 11:40:56 AM UTC-7, rachel wrote:
> > > > > > On Friday, October 13, 2023 at 10:51:15 AM UTC-7, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > > > > > > Returning to Emerson's essay, "The Poet," one of my favorite poetry videos was based on it:
> > > > > > >
> > > > > > > https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g-H2KPqaHds
> > > > > > >
> > > > > > > As a poem, it's a failure insofar as I doubt that people are going to be able to understand it without knowing the story behind it.
> > > > > > > Emerson wrote:
> > > > > > >
> > > > > > > "For poetry was all written before time was, and whenever we are so finely organized that we can penetrate into that region where the air is music, we hear those primal warblings and attempt to write them down, but we lose ever and anon a word or a verse and substitute something of our own, and thus miswrite the poem. The men of more delicate ear write down these cadences more faithfully, and these transcripts, though imperfect, become the songs of the nations."
> > > > > > > My poem is about the poems that have existed before time that have yet to be/may never be divined by a prophet/poet.
> > > > > > >
> > > > > > > Since thousands of poems (perhaps even millions of poems) are being written every day, one assumes that the as yet unwritten "Lost Poems" must be virtually numberless.
> > > > > > >
> > > > > > > And since humankind, the universe, and time are all finite, one may further surmise that the majority of these poems will remain forever unknown.
> > > > > > >
> > > > > > > I believe that this is one of life's greatest tragedies -- and one that is rarely, if ever recognized -- that there are an infinite number of perfect poems, songs, novels, paintings, sculptures, etc., out there that will never be revealed to us.
> > > > > > >
> > > > > > >
> > > > > > >
> > > > > > > Michael Pendragon
> > > > > > > “Oh, don't be silly.
> > > > > > > Dockery's trademark is a turd with a liplock on it.
> > > > > > > (You've seen his other ‘drawings.’ It only /looks like/ he's
> > > > > > > sucking cock.)”
> > > > > > > -- Dennis M. Hammes on Will Dockery.
> > > > > > what do you mean time is finite
> > > > > i sort of forgot the definition of time....i guess i meant numbers....
> > > > >
> > > > > my natural aptitude for math abruptly halted at co-sine
> > > > Numbers. I think he's roughly arguing:
> > > > (1) Every person has a finite number (of seconds) to live.
> > > > (2) Humanity as a whole (ie, past, present, and future) consists of a finite number of people.
> > > > (3) Humanity as a whole has a finite number (of seconds) to live.
> > > >
> > > > That part of his argument is sound and valid.
> > > I'm afraid that's not it.
> > >
> > > I'm saying that:
> > >
> > > 1) An infinite number of poems exist *outside of time* in some indefinable abstract plane (much like Platonic Ideals).
> > > 2) The poet's task is to use his psychic vision to see these poems "through a glass darkly," and to transcribe them for others to read.
> > > 3) The universe exists *within* time. It has a timeline with both a beginning and an end.
> > > 4) When the universe ends, there will still be an infinite amount of poems in the abstract plane that have never been discovered and transcribed..
> > > 5) These poems will forever remain unknown. Therefore, they may be considered "lost."
> > > 6) That an infinite number of poems should remain forever undiscovered, unrealized, unknown... is one of life's greatest tragedies.
>
> > i like these last two posts thank you (good reading for one buried in 2many pounds of klippingzz 💡)
> I'm glad you like it. We hardly ever discuss philosophy here, and when I bring it up it's usually ruled "off-topic" under Group A's Guidelines; so I'm glad it's been allowed here for now.
>
> Basically he's saying that an infinite number of poems exist, but that they don't exist in the universe; nor in any other universe.

well, some of them do (exist in the universe), only the lost ones don't exist in the universe, as per their definition

what about the ones which come to mind in dreaming ? is that considered "in"" the universe or not? it's in your brain....but what about the mind? my doctor said the mind was "nowhere" surely dreams are physical, and exist in energy as part of one's brain, and are thus "in" the universe as well.

UNLESS....well, in kabbalah it says that for dreaming, the truest dreams, which occur between 3:30 and 5:30 am, your soul ASCENDS to Heaven to receive them....so is that IN the universe or NOT??? and of course, if you can THINK of them, here on earth, like sort of remember dreaming them, does that mean they exist PHYSICALLY in your brain, i would think so, so that means they are *in* the universe, TOO.

i would guess, since we have minds....here's where language fails me. "in your mind," is really an inferior expression, wouldn't it be, since the mind is NOWHERE according to my doctor, so does that mean our minds exist outside of space and time? but i just can't believe this, doesn't there have to be some kind of connection, to even think to know that it (or they, depending on your philosophy?) exist? unless it's all a delusion of our brains.

sorry, i know i should be embarrassed to engage in such primitive discussions, being unschooled in these matters lacking any academic knowledge of them. thank you for indulging me.