Sunday, April 9, 2017

At Art (if Even)


@ArtofEvan:
As usual a crawler-readable microfiche sized version below.
Because.  What it says.



To the Art (If Even) from a female Faust


from where I sit in sunlight virtual 
(Isn't this where we came in?)
evil seems -- somehow unreal --
(all that your flight has been)
evolving are we we are still
(Discipline -- Indiscipline)
from where I sit in sunlight
this making of an everything so better 
(the real relation, the underlying theme)
is not the first of my recognizing
(I'm afrain we'll have to improvise)
will yet: have, had, been, will, be, is 
(preparing Maximum Surprise)
in some times yet returning favor.

in all the vast web, there at once we fit though few
(I am you and what I see is me)
before my reason able, but unwilling can decide
( Indiscipline) ...( Discipline)
you see what is this this that is and befriend it too 
(All life is forwards you will see)
before between yet look again, to contemplate it, view

from where I sit in sunlight actual
(any morning, any evening, any day)
evil barely evil still
(gold and silver shine)
this here, this now, this, can we, will
(everybody everybody everybody tries)
from where I sit in sunlight

the its all goodness that this it may actually be
(You can be scared when it gets too real)
a dosed and holy intuition becomes a sometime moment brimming 
(someday, lets be a pair of trees)
with the promise of summer, hours listening to the city 
(a gazeless stare, at all the millions here)
which daydreams all around me now for miles

its how all evens have been gotten how all made men are made
(People forget)
the course of history unconvincing a charade
(See the future Leaking through See the person who once was)
you: an evidentiary fractal metonymy of scale
(where is the what if the what is in why)
not only being able, but also counting, counting on

a summer house in the universe next door
(the lengths that I will go to, the distance in your eyes)
all from the same seen and seeing
(these things do not remember you)
the web of society, like the bones in your hand
(see that we should never be afraid to die)
is the on purpose done by a friend --

from where I sit in sunlight spiritual
(the questions of thousands take flight)
evil only dreams a fable --
(but you can learn how to be you in time)
  where the solving's easy, problems grace
(inviting and inciting me to rise)
from where I sit in sunlight


Be seeing you.

Sunday, March 26, 2017

Our Access To Science, Newly Freed: In Gratitude To Alexandra Elbakyan





Song of Sci-Hub.cc
or, a forward looking dirge occaisioned by the hopeful certain death of certain greedy mega corporations 


Knowledge comes from Power.  So they seek the other, hoard the one:
non solus for Truths new and old, for our own works submitted,
sed etiam for copyedit 'priveleges' (heretofore undone) 
Do such thugs as Reed Elsevier demand fat fees remitted.

Thus in battle charging every, all, they fain disguise and outright hide
what from each extracted, sums painful if retold
demanding from these what to those they promised to provide
They serve us best as proof That battle rages, yet, of old

Its all about power, yes -- defined by covert ways of knowing
to what extent, why, and how who does what, where and when
by use of tech most cutting edge their influence was growing --
until one woman noticed that what they do -- we can --

Lo! Public, swift and sure, was made our new disdain and noncompliance!
Let the People rejoice! Removéd are such barriers to Science!


in gratitude from a female Faust




Tuesday, February 14, 2017

Sunday, January 29, 2017

Sometimes Lack Of Expletives In A Publshed Post Is Evidence Of Restraint



From the (redacted and removed) post herein replaced, sort of.


"For neither Man nor Angel can discern
Hypocrisy, the only evil that walks
Invisible, except to God alone,
By his permissive will, through Heaven and Earth:
And oft, though wisdom wake, suspicion sleeps
At wisdom's gate, and to simplicity
Resigns her charge, while goodness thinks no ill
Where no ill seems..."
                                                 John Milton, Paradise Lost, Book III,682-689






Having been fully and most painfully, willfully betrayed by a close friend is interesting. But for the solace found in the verse above, would I feel, still, an annoyingly immediate and profound sorrow at ever having wasted years being a loyal friend to any willfully mean and hypocritical, petty, lying, scheming individuals.