Monday, April 30, 2012

Occam's Razor

“Occam’s razor is, of course, not an arbitrary rule nor one justified by its practical success. It simply says that unnecessary elements in a symbolism mean nothing. Signs which serve one purpose are logically equivalent, signs which serve no purpose are logically meaningless.”

Ludwig Wittgenstein — Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus

Sunday, April 22, 2012

waka 0336


yado tikaku
mume no Fana uFezi
adikinaku
matu Fito no ka ni
ayamatarekeri
              Close to my home
No plum trees grow-
In boredom
I await his scent-is that it?
I'm wrong, it seems.
Anonymous
KKS I: 34  
source: 2001 waka for japan 2001
  

tonite we die x_x

by Adam Hill (velcrosuit)
source: Velcrosuit

WAKA


Poetry has its seed in the human heart and blossoms forth in innumerable leaves of words ... it is poetry which, with only a part of its power, moves heaven and earth, pacifies unseen gods and demons, reconciles men and women and calms the hearts of savage warriors.
Ki no Tsurayuki, Preface to the Kokinshû, Ninth Century

Tsurayuki's words, written over a thousand years ago, are the first description by a Japanese of waka. The word is made up of two parts: wa meaning 'Japanese' and ka meaning 'poem' or 'song'. It was probably coined at about the time Tsurayuki was writing as a way to distinguish the poetry written by the Japanese in their own language from that they read and wrote in Chinese - the source of much of Japan's poetic inspiration.

Today, the type of waka best known outside of Japan is probably the haiku, a sequence of three 'lines' of five, seven and five syllables and describing an aspect of nature. Haiku are now written in many languages other than Japanese, and widely in Japan itself. They are, however, a relatively late form of waka, beginning to be written in the seventeenth century, by which time the Japanese had already been writing poetry for a thousand years.
[+] more @ 2001 waka for japan 2001

Thursday, April 19, 2012

Darkness

Yedda Morison's Darkness (from chapter one of Heart of Darkness - 
Joseph Conrad's classic and masterpiece)
click on image to enlarge

Tuesday, April 10, 2012

E. Cioran

En el pesimismo, el escepticismo, el nihilismo y en la filosofía del absurdo (sobre todo en ella) de Emil Cioran no está ausente el juego, el humor, si bien ácido y negro.

Aquí algunas citas para compartir hoy:

We derive our vitality from our store of madness.

No one recovers from the disease of being born, a deadly wound if there ever was one.

The fact that life has no meaning is a reason to live - moreover, the only one.

A sudden silence in the middle of a conversation suddenly brings us back to essentials: it reveals how dearly we must pay for the invention of speech.

By all evidence we are in the world to do nothing.

Ennui is the echo in us of time tearing itself apart.

I'm simply an accident. Why take it all so seriously?

It is because we are all imposters that we endure each other.

It is not worth the bother of killing yourself, since you always kill yourself too late.

Life creates itself in delirium and is undone in ennui.

Life is merely a fracas on an unmapped terrain, and the universe a geometry stricken with epilepsy.

Life inspires more dread than death - it is life which is the great unknown.

Life is possible only by the deficiencies of our imagination and memory.

Nothing proves that we are more than nothing.

Since all life is futility, then the decision to exist must be the most irrational of all.

The desire to die was my one and only concern; to it I have sacrificed everything, even death.

The fact that life has no meaning is a reason to live - moreover, the only one.

To exist is a habit I do not despair of acquiring.

To think is to take a cunning revenge in which we camouflage our baseness and conceal our lower instincts.

Friday, April 6, 2012

one-word poems (pwoermd's)


a selection of "one-word poems" by anatol knotek

pingƃuod

⁄s⁄c⁄a⁄r⁄

/\/\ou/\tai/\s

yinƃuɐʎ

ki§ing

l:)ht

flip:dolɟ

t/lt

m-nus

pl+s

d:v:de

mulxiply

betw in een

bl.nd

s|e|p|e|r|a|t|i|o|n

piazzasta

l‿stig

gek pft o:

...ndsoona...

gefallen?

gefallen by Anatol Konotek

Thursday, April 5, 2012

in time

just in time by anatol knotek (source: visuelle poesie)

Fear

Fear of seeing a police car pull into the drive.
Fear of falling asleep at night.
Fear of not falling asleep.
Fear of the past rising up.
Fear of the present taking flight.
Fear of the telephone that rings in the dead of night.
Fear of electrical storms.
Fear of the cleaning woman who has a spot on her cheek!
Fear of dogs I've been told won't bite.
Fear of anxiety!
Fear of having to identify the body of a dead friend.
Fear of running out of money.
Fear of having too much, though people will not believe this.
Fear of psychological profiles.
Fear of being late and fear of arriving before anyone else.
Fear of my children's handwriting on envelopes.
Fear they'll die before I do, and I'll feel guilty.
Fear of having to live with my mother in her old age, and mine.
Fear of confusion.
Fear this day will end on an unhappy note.
Fear of waking up to find you gone.
Fear of not loving and fear of not loving enough.
Fear that what I love will prove lethal to those I love.
Fear of death.
Fear of living too long.
Fear of death.

I've said that.

by Raymond Carver

The Cobweb

A few minutes ago, I stepped onto the deck
of the house. From there I could see and hear the water,
and everything that's happened to me all these years.
It was hot and still. The tide was out.
No birds sang. As I leaned against the railing
a cobweb touched my forehead.
It caught in my hair. No one can blame me that I turned
and went inside. There was no wind. The sea
was dead calm. I hung the cobweb from the lampshade.
Where I watch it shudder now and then when my breath
touches it. A fine thread. Intricate.
Before long, before anyone realizes,
I'll be gone from here.

by Raymond Carver