Sunday, December 31, 2017

I'm Struck Blind but My Blindness Is Bright

So. Birthdays:
  1. Paul Westerberg is 58 today, that's my favorite song of his, the one Ive used for birthday's past.
  2. Patti Smith turned 71 yesterday, I like that song, I like that it was on the Mike Douglas Show.
  3. Jeff Lynne turned 70 yesterday. I don't think I've ever posted his birthday, but (a) I like some, love a couple of ELO songs and (b) when I sent a Happy Nesmith to a friend who adores Nesmith she reminded me it was Jeff Lynne's birthday too and (c) I know an old married couple named Jeff and Lynn, so now on.
  4. Mike Nesmith turned 75 yesterday. I always played Dolenz, Elric Nesmith, but still.
I'm not sure where this blog is going other than it seems to not be going away.



Franz Wright

Assuming this is the last day of my life
(which might mean it is almost the first)
I'm struck blind but my blindness is bright.
Prepare for what's known here as death;
have no fear of that strange word forever.
Even I can see there's nothing there
to be afraid of: having already been
to forever I'm unable to recall
anything that scared me, there, or hurt.
What frightened me, apparently, and hurt
was being born. But I got over that
with no hard feelings. Dying, I imagine,
it will be the same deal, lonesomer maybe,
but surely no more shocking or prolonged-
It's dark as I recall, then bright, so bright.


  1. it's been years since i posted these comments on brightness and blindness -

    1)from the firesign theatre:

    "Oh blinding light/ Oh light that blinds/ I cannot see/ Look out for me!"

    2)and on the other hand in one of his books idries shah spoke about how the blinding illumination of some mystical experiences is blinding to the recipient because he/she lacks the capacity to fully process it - had they been further developed/less "raw" they would have gotten something more out of it

    3)and speaking of blindness, here's my added verse to The Blind Men and the Elephant, in context:

    Six Blind Men & the Elephant

    from John Godfrey Saxe (1816-1887)
    A Hindu Parable

    It was six men of Indostan
    To learning much inclined,
    Who went to see the Elephant
    (Though all of them were blind),
    That each by observation
    Might satisfy his mind.

    The First approached the Elephant,
    And happening to fall
    Against his broad and sturdy side,
    At once began to bawl:
    “God bless me! but the Elephant
    Is very like a wall!”

    The Second, feeling of the tusk
    Cried, “Ho! what have we here,
    So very round and smooth and sharp?
    To me ‘tis mighty clear
    This wonder of an Elephant
    Is very like a spear!”

    The Third approached the animal,
    And happening to take
    The squirming trunk within his hands,
    Thus boldly up he spake:
    “I see,” quoth he, “the Elephant
    Is very like a snake!”

    The Fourth reached out an eager hand,
    And felt about the knee:
    “What most this wondrous beast is like
    Is mighty plain,” quoth he;
    “‘Tis clear enough the Elephant
    Is very like a tree!”

    The Fifth, who chanced to touch the ear,
    Said: “E’en the blindest man
    Can tell what this resembles most;
    Deny the fact who can,
    This marvel of an Elephant
    Is very like a fan!”

    The Sixth no sooner had begun
    About the beast to grope,
    Than, seizing on the swinging tail
    That fell within his scope.
    “I see,” quoth he, “the Elephant
    Is very like a rope!”

    [The Seventh blind man, staff in hand,
    Upon his bare feet goes.
    “I clearly sense”, he calmly said,
    “And think that all should know
    The elephant is warm and squishy
    In between the toes.”]*

    And so these men of Indostan
    Disputed loud and long,
    Each in his own opinion
    Exceeding stiff and strong,
    Though each was partly in the right,
    And all were in the wrong!


    So oft in theologic wars,
    The disputants, I ween,
    Rail on in utter ignorance
    Of what each other mean,
    And prate about an Elephant
    Not one of them has seen.

    *[inspired by a cartoon by s. gross]

  2. 1.) @ Herr von D.: Lee Evin (on a jet plain -- i.e., in pitch darkness; oh, ayuh) captures 1977, when I was living in New York, with The girl Who Refused To Be Mrs Mongo, on East 33rd between 2nd and 3rd Avenues, and freezing. Donald Trump in 1977 was marrying Ivana, who birthed him three entities -- Junior, Ivanka, and Megalon, who is never seen outside his armored play enclosure at an undisclosed location.

    2.) As so many of the planet's inhabitants were invisible to Murrikans for so long as we clawed our way to Empire, now we all of us are on display and invisible, at least to the Beast and Brightest of Earth's denizens.

    3.) In 2018, you will eat breakfast. A child will spill water and smile at you. You will hear a song, and wonder where that song is now. In 2018, you will be reading something, and it may read you back. In 2018, you will see a stranger, across a crowded room -- and somehow, you'll know; you'll know even then -- that somewhere you'll see them, again and again. Who can explain it? Who can tell you why? Fools give you reasons, but wise men never try.

    4.) Jefferson. The Declaration of Independence. Slavery. Hypocrisy. Repeat; no rinsing supplied.

    5.) Hannah Arendt's work is amazingly important.

    6.) Go pound sand -- not! We so need more concrete.

    7.) Linky (thanks for all in the past year). Dog (Dog is good). Less motherfuckers, except when we as motherfuckers do the motherfucking stuff we do and not realize it until later. May the state of our consciousness be Mindful Motherfuckery, so we can correct it and add to the sum of human knowledge and joy.

    Happy New Year, Us; every one.