The Innocent Confusions of Snobbery, Yardsticks in Mud. LO26217

Date: 02/25/01

Dear Learners,

Might we one day have a thread, a new thread in say, deep purple blue
rather than the ultramarine blue we are more used to on the public digest?
Is that possible Rick? Could we have new colours for the threads? Out of
the three primary colours, the resulting three secondaries and then the
tertiaries we have sufficient complexity to administer twenty one million
discernible chromatic hues and varying attending tonalities....come back
meandering mind....and the subject of this new thread? The innocent
confusions of snobbery. Sorry, The Innocent Confusions of Snobbery.

[Host's Note: Since our msgs are plain text, the "color" is determined by
your email program... I might be able to color a msg in the web
archive. I'll try it. ..Rick]

What a beautiful ideal this LO is;-)

- But one can't discuss the act of creation (it might constitute) without
devoting a least a little time and effort to the acts of desecration. What
a confusion of values this place exhibits;-) always groping his way
through the labyrinthine world, armed with a compass pointing in the wrong
direction. The visionary symbol of creative possibility -- I will say that
differingly, the symbol of creativity (for Koestler) is "-the magic wand
with which Moses used to make water come out of the rock; its reverse is
the faulty yardstick which turns everything it touches into dust." Anyone
here want to guess what that Magic wand it? Could you tell the difference
between original and fake Picasso drypoint print?

Perhaps often as not this 'place' in it's confusion of confusions trips
explicably over its many pointlesslessthanayardsticks, forever offering
short measures for the immediate gratification of an illusory
knowingnesscarelessness so many words cracking bones hither and yon?

Peggy, you remind me of my terriers Bucket and Daisy...would you like
pictures of them in the long grasses;-) of North Moreton's fields? I will
confide in you that I have been many strange places in the last few weeks,
more hither and yon JZ;-), I am full and filling of 'hithers and yons', -
like so many moats of dust (or is it motes) in a beam of light ascending
by a differing compass in the toturers cell;-( Here's a little mote from a
secretary mite (mite contextrually;-) meaning a diminutive personage, as
one might call a small child in a state of joy 'a little mite') In this
though the one secretary facilitates on behalf of the other secretary in a
kind of stolen freedom. (I will not get all my 'yardsticks' out
Bowles1986, et al ad nauseam) here then is a moment of inner directed
light between two secretaries compowered,

Note: I send reproduction degraded of image by Paul Klee (back and white)

(Mz then sends her friend Nt into the above image to imagine;-)

Nt responds to the image thuswise,

"-Some interesting ideas there. I will try my best to evaluate and create
my impressions of the pic, bearing in mind I am in **** which is the least
creative area in the whole world! The first thing I thought of when I
opened the document, to be honest, was 'What a shoddy scan'. I instantly
assumed that what I was seeing was not what was intended, but was maybe a
photocopy, maybe two generations old, scanned in badly! But it took a few
seconds for me to cast off this expectation of perfection that society
ingrains upon you and I looked at it not for its realism, perfection or
neatness, but for what it was. Yea, so it was essentially just some marks
on a black piece of paper, but in that you can see real depth, like
looking up into the sky on a clear night. Your mind can create images,
they don't have to be there very crudely to be spoon fed to you. So my two
opinions drawn out from this are 1) Perfection is just an opinion. A
product should be looked at as a whole, as it is and for what it is, not
what it isn't or should be. And 2) Art is not about showing us life as it
is; we know that! It's around us all the time! Art is about creating an
emotion in a person and getting them thinking, not about 'being' a window
on the world! And relating this to my own work? Bugger the spelling and
the structure! That stuffs for un-enlightened, sticks in the mud!"

Mz replies,

"--Cool, Nat, you're a woman after A's heart. If it is ok with you, I will
forward this on to him and he'll go all happy and curly at the edges. A
curly A is a happy A. Hope you're curly too!

Mz also writes...

Andrew, there are people who I love because it is very easy to do so.
There are those who I love out of duty or as an act of will. There are
those who I don't love - my failing not theirs. But, there are those,
maybe half a dozen at most, and mainly awkward, depressive, bad tempered,
opinionated miserable sods, who I love dearly, because they are very
faint, very transparent, very easy to see through, and what I see through
them is of unutterable beauty. They are the ones that bridge the gap and
blur the distinction we have just described.


My dearest wish is that anyone might see through some wondow ;-) and as
for this 'A' - a very small man - mainly awkward, depressive, bad tempered
and an opinionated miserable sod;-) with<>in no name - walk right through
him into some 'unutterable' beauty. 'We don't need to find new landscapes;
we just need new eyes to see the old ones with.' (Proust)

 " Andrew --For now, it will do for both, though your second one needs to
be re-read and re-read and re-read and underlined and scribbled on, which
I don't have time to do now - something to do with the extra hour - before
I can say much on that, but to keep you going....Andrew, C S Lewis wrote a
novel, of which I have not read the whole, called the Great Divorce, which
is about the split between heaven, hell, good, evil etc, and focuses on a
bus that travels from earth between the two. There is a beautiful scene,
in which the bus arrives in heaven and the travellers dismount. The one
through whose eyes the story is seen describes trees and parkland and a
million streams and birds and sunlight ;-)))))))) - as you would expect
from a good Oxfordian such as Lewis. But he also notices that the people
with whom he has arrived seem faint. Those who have been there longer
seem fainter still. They are not fading away, in the sense that they are
very much alive and active, but somehow, they seem less solid than their
surroundings. Looking down at his feet, he realises that he can see the
grass through them. At first startled, he realises the answer is simply
that this place, the Kingdom of Heaven is more "real" and more "present"
than the people who occupy it. All that has changed is his ability to see

Less hubris borne of fears here, much matters of professional ego i
suspect;-) and more humility and something might give in the yielding ;-)
best happiest moments transform (transfrom?) you all into poets.

Galileo wrote this, "If there was as great a scarcity of earth as there as
there is of jewels and gold, there would be no king who would not gladly
give a heap of diamonds and rubies to purchase only so much of earth as
would suffice to plant a jessamine in a little pot or to set a tangerine
in it, that he might see it sprout, grow up, and bring forth goodly
leaves, fragrant flowers and delicate fruit...These men who so extol
incorruptibility, inalterability ("being" over "becomings";-) speak thus
out of fear of death, not considering that, if men had been immortal, they
would not have had to come into the world." And he says with utmost beauty
of truth, " and these people deserve to meet with a Medusa's head that
would transform them into statues of diamond, jade or gold so that they
may become more perfect than they are."

Now forgive me because I hasten to find and transcribe for you more words
along the thread of deep purple gold Ooops, DID I SAY purple gold,
Impossible;-) I must go search for some strings with which to make ever
renewing yardsticks...;-) It will be specially titled the hiddenness of
"J" and "J"




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