'The negative way attempts to do justice to God's transcendence, but at
the price of making God unknowable. Religious language then perforce
becomes expressive , not descriptive, and the relation to God has to be
enacted in spirituality because it can no way be enacted in knowledge. A
high and orthodox emphasis on the divine transcendence forces me into a
non-cognitive philosophy of religion. The "higher" God is, the more
inward God is....Alternatively, the world is full of images of God, of
hierarchies pointing to God...'
(via Iris M.)
~~~
Another term, another year comes to an end. Don't worry old colleagues, we'll be dead soon, if we're not already so. The highlight of the year: free sushi thanks to dem dere A-rabs (don't get me started on the Gulf Arabs, for Christ's sake!). But the sushi, at least three distinct tastes (avocado, shrimp, and caviar). Very subtle. (If this doesn't get ol' anon. commenting I don't know what will)
A colleague phones me up to tell me he's got anxiety. Why? Because he hasn't got anxiety any more. I sometimes think, in a former life I must have been a shrink or a Buddhist since I have this amazing ability to sit and quietly listen to other people's problems. not quite sure what that's got to do with Buddhism, but there you go. But would love to have one of those black leather couches the shrinks have and since I'm half Jewish anyway I think I'd be a natural.
In Nuristan (yeah, I know, the name is a joke)there's a rumour that there's a group in town that's even stricter than the Taleban. What's stricter than that, you may ask? (Never forget the Spanish Inquisition! ). Okay, that doesn't really work without the music. Must, must visit Kafiristan before it's too late.
~~~
(My) teaching sucks. Feel like imitating Michael Cain and telling the students to bugger off, sit under a tree or do something useful. All this wasted time with books and the fakery, the feigning of intelligence...
'What I did hate, though, and what finally set me at a run out of town after dark at the end of the term..without turning in my grades, was that the place was all anti-mystery types right to the core,-all expert in the arts of explaining, explicating and dissecting, and by these means promoting permanence. For me that made for the worst kind of despairs ...Teachers, let me tell you, are born deceivers of the lowest sort, since what they want from life is impossible-time freed, existential youth forever,. It commits them to terrible deceptions and departures from the truth.
...Muslims, let me tell you, are a race of people who understand impermanence. More so even than sportswriters.'
The one handed economist/academic, who has every angle covered, who can argue his way out of every hole, who stammers and stutters before life, the ultimate mystery...
~~~
Another term, another year comes to an end. Don't worry old colleagues, we'll be dead soon, if we're not already so. The highlight of the year: free sushi thanks to dem dere A-rabs (don't get me started on the Gulf Arabs, for Christ's sake!). But the sushi, at least three distinct tastes (avocado, shrimp, and caviar). Very subtle. (If this doesn't get ol' anon. commenting I don't know what will)
A colleague phones me up to tell me he's got anxiety. Why? Because he hasn't got anxiety any more. I sometimes think, in a former life I must have been a shrink or a Buddhist since I have this amazing ability to sit and quietly listen to other people's problems. not quite sure what that's got to do with Buddhism, but there you go. But would love to have one of those black leather couches the shrinks have and since I'm half Jewish anyway I think I'd be a natural.
In Nuristan (yeah, I know, the name is a joke)there's a rumour that there's a group in town that's even stricter than the Taleban. What's stricter than that, you may ask? (Never forget the Spanish Inquisition! ). Okay, that doesn't really work without the music. Must, must visit Kafiristan before it's too late.
~~~
(My) teaching sucks. Feel like imitating Michael Cain and telling the students to bugger off, sit under a tree or do something useful. All this wasted time with books and the fakery, the feigning of intelligence...
'What I did hate, though, and what finally set me at a run out of town after dark at the end of the term..without turning in my grades, was that the place was all anti-mystery types right to the core,-all expert in the arts of explaining, explicating and dissecting, and by these means promoting permanence. For me that made for the worst kind of despairs ...Teachers, let me tell you, are born deceivers of the lowest sort, since what they want from life is impossible-time freed, existential youth forever,. It commits them to terrible deceptions and departures from the truth.
...Muslims, let me tell you, are a race of people who understand impermanence. More so even than sportswriters.'
The one handed economist/academic, who has every angle covered, who can argue his way out of every hole, who stammers and stutters before life, the ultimate mystery...
5 comments:
But, oh, B-honeychile', I say:
Taunt A (ol' anonymous) with your license of ink, not with your license of sushi…or, are you big in Japan?
Hope you are all bee's knees. Best, from the gal next door. (Wait a minute, were you lookin' for the princess lointaine?) ;)
Content?
Well, there you are! where've you been?
am i content? is that your question? well, no, as a matter of fact. At least i don't think so. if i was, i wouldn't be spewing out so much nonsense on the bs! :-)
are you?
what am i looking for...hmm..that would require another session in therapy and I've run out of money. Khair...
But, omg! that sushi and maki was something else. I think i'm going to sit in my comfy chair and just dream about it.
Around the world, B. Espana, Paris, NYC...why? missing me, AGAIN? (I should surely say)
Yes, I am, I am still continent-al. But you, B, if you're not content, get (even) more content, if you know what I mean...For instance, I thought my mild allusion to the Bard would trigger more on anniversary, Saint Jordi, & Don Quixote. A lot has passed, where have YOU been?And not to say: DId you give the rose, did you get your book? I know, I know, don't sigh within...the joys of shared symbolism, methinks. Best...
so much traveling? are you a disillusioned billionairess who is eager to help out poor little third-world boys (hint hint). No? Oh well, you can't blame me for dreaming...
rose, book? don't gets ya. is this like orson's rosebud?
No,dear B, I am mediocre sous-chef who's catering around the world for disillusioned billionaires. Believe me, a very inspiring and enriching endeavor. Their cowardice, their deceit: Pushkin and Dostoevsky. But, you'll read, one day, my tales of catering, a clef, you please. Till then, do dream about my souflees; they are more tangible than anything else.
B, not quite that, but something like that In fact, that too, if you please. BTW, I did enjoy your forays into the world of lady love.Gave you some glitter and sparkle, sort of' like the knight in shining armor stint...and you don't strike me as a man of uniforms, but maybe as a man of armors. Told ya you're an undercover utopian: dig within for some poetry without.
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