Monday, April 9, 2012
Sunday, April 8, 2012
Saturday, April 7, 2012
The Beatitudes
Blessed are the poor in spirit,
for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are they who mourn,
for they shall be comforted.
Blessed are the meek,
for they shall inherit the earth.
Blessed are they who hunger and thirst for righteousness,
for they shall be satisfied.
Blessed are the merciful,
for they shall obtain mercy.
Blessed are the pure of heart,
for they shall see God.
Blessed are the peacemakers,
for they shall be called children of God.
Blessed are they who are persecuted for the sake of righteousness,
for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are they who mourn,
for they shall be comforted.
Blessed are the meek,
for they shall inherit the earth.
Blessed are they who hunger and thirst for righteousness,
for they shall be satisfied.
Blessed are the merciful,
for they shall obtain mercy.
Blessed are the pure of heart,
for they shall see God.
Blessed are the peacemakers,
for they shall be called children of God.
Blessed are they who are persecuted for the sake of righteousness,
for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Wednesday, April 4, 2012
Tuesday, April 3, 2012
Truth
It is very easy to conform to what our society tells you. That is a safe and easy way of existing: but that is not living. To live is to find out for yourself what is true.
~J. Krishnamurti
~J. Krishnamurti
Tree
All day I waited to be blown;
then someone cut me down.
I have, instead of thoughts,
uses; uses instead of feelings.
One day I'll feel the wind again.
A moment later I'll be gone.
by Dan Chiasson
then someone cut me down.
I have, instead of thoughts,
uses; uses instead of feelings.
One day I'll feel the wind again.
A moment later I'll be gone.
by Dan Chiasson
Monday, April 2, 2012
Back in the Day
Waaaaaay back. I actually has a real "blogroll" on 'anitaxanaxnow.' Back when I had a "Typepad" account.Digby was new. Pandagon was new. Eschaton was new. Lawyers Guns and Money were new. Feministing was new. I love the fact that I saw some of these blogs actually start. And, some made it well into the new(er) media, like Glenn Greenwald and Kos and Ezra Klein. Some are on FB now. Some are not. I'm going to track down as many of the ole' bloggers I remember ... and make another blogroll. Once again ... not looking for attention. Just trying to recreate ... or rather rediscover and re-animate something that I once wrapped myself around. It was fun.
Not to mention ...
Randal and "L'ennui mélodieux" (and his blog friend, Le Belette Rouge [sp] who I read via Kindle, btw)... always new and in all ways blogospherian ... my friend.
Fairlane ... Chris Dashiell ... Utah Savage ... Politits ... Kevin Kelley ... OKJimm ... Kelso's Nuts ... Hey. That's it. Hey.
...
I feel like I'm writing a eulogy or something. For the record, that's not the case. And, hey, bottom line is that IF I were to ... hmmm "pass" ... the best people would probably say about me is that ... She Got Her Heart Broken. And Then She Died. Her Physical Self Stuck Around for Awhile. But She Really Was Dead Inside. And She Became A Problem Drinker. Her Hatred of Bill W. and AA were her Undoing. May She Rest In Peace.
Not to mention ...
Randal and "L'ennui mélodieux" (and his blog friend, Le Belette Rouge [sp] who I read via Kindle, btw)... always new and in all ways blogospherian ... my friend.
Fairlane ... Chris Dashiell ... Utah Savage ... Politits ... Kevin Kelley ... OKJimm ... Kelso's Nuts ... Hey. That's it. Hey.
...
I feel like I'm writing a eulogy or something. For the record, that's not the case. And, hey, bottom line is that IF I were to ... hmmm "pass" ... the best people would probably say about me is that ... She Got Her Heart Broken. And Then She Died. Her Physical Self Stuck Around for Awhile. But She Really Was Dead Inside. And She Became A Problem Drinker. Her Hatred of Bill W. and AA were her Undoing. May She Rest In Peace.
Sunday, April 1, 2012
Quiet
I love the quietness of this, my little blog, which I've had so very long (and, not to mention, having deleted 99% of my posts over the years). I come and I go as I please. Say something, mostly to the universe ... or to a couple of people whom I trust and have known me in the "blogging" sense from back when blogs were relatively new. LONG before Facebook ever arrived. These people know I'm a little (eh, yeah, well very) flaky. I have no expections of them, nor should I. I am happy when they stop in now and then to say 'hey' or whatever. Or just stop by and wave. I'm not a blog friend collector in the same way that I'm not a FB friend collector. I prefer to collect inanimate objects.
FB is a bad place to show your true feelings, or your state of mind (or lack thereof). Too many people who have no business knowing these things can form bad impressions of you (not that they may be entirely warranted ... but I'm just sayin').
I'm a miserably sad person. No, let me correct that. I'm a miserably sad person with occasional flashes of joy, happiness, free-spiritedness. I wonder consistently whether those occasional "flashes" are a sign of manic depression, or bi-polar disorder. My shrinks have all (yes, shrinks in the plural, there have been many) ruled bi-polar out a long time ago. I believe my current diagnosis is something called dysthymia, a chronic type of depression in which a person's moods are regularly low, but not as devastating as major depression. My last shrink, the ONLY shrink I've ever had who made me lay on the proverbial "couch", was a skeptical man. He hated labels and he hated formal diagnoses of things so very complex as ailments of the mind, or of the spirit, or of the soul. He would never put it just those terms, I but I know he would feel the above description of his philosophy toward psychotherapy and psychotherapeutic diagnosis was "about right."
I also have been told by my shrinks that I have a) survivor's guilt; b) post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD); and, last but not least, Asperger's Syndrome ... which is on the Autism Spectrum, but it is very high functioning autism. I've done a lot of reading on this lately, and I believe that diagnosis is entirely in keeping with what I have experienced in my life. I have told very few people about this, but they don't understand the concept of the autism "spectrum." When they think of someone who is autistic, they think of someone who is either like Rain Man or suffering from mental retardation. Those are places far further along the spectrum than I have ever been or ever will be.
FB is a bad place to show your true feelings, or your state of mind (or lack thereof). Too many people who have no business knowing these things can form bad impressions of you (not that they may be entirely warranted ... but I'm just sayin').
I'm a miserably sad person. No, let me correct that. I'm a miserably sad person with occasional flashes of joy, happiness, free-spiritedness. I wonder consistently whether those occasional "flashes" are a sign of manic depression, or bi-polar disorder. My shrinks have all (yes, shrinks in the plural, there have been many) ruled bi-polar out a long time ago. I believe my current diagnosis is something called dysthymia, a chronic type of depression in which a person's moods are regularly low, but not as devastating as major depression. My last shrink, the ONLY shrink I've ever had who made me lay on the proverbial "couch", was a skeptical man. He hated labels and he hated formal diagnoses of things so very complex as ailments of the mind, or of the spirit, or of the soul. He would never put it just those terms, I but I know he would feel the above description of his philosophy toward psychotherapy and psychotherapeutic diagnosis was "about right."
I also have been told by my shrinks that I have a) survivor's guilt; b) post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD); and, last but not least, Asperger's Syndrome ... which is on the Autism Spectrum, but it is very high functioning autism. I've done a lot of reading on this lately, and I believe that diagnosis is entirely in keeping with what I have experienced in my life. I have told very few people about this, but they don't understand the concept of the autism "spectrum." When they think of someone who is autistic, they think of someone who is either like Rain Man or suffering from mental retardation. Those are places far further along the spectrum than I have ever been or ever will be.
Thursday, March 29, 2012
Freedom from Fear
If I could ask for anything, it would be freedom from fear -- freedom from anxiety.
Live in Joy
Live in Joy, In love,
Even among those who hate.
Live in joy, In health,
Even among the afflicted.
Live in joy, In peace,
Even among the troubled.
Look within. Be still.
Free from fear and attachment,
Know the sweet joy of living in the way.
~
There is no fire like greed,
No crime like hatred,
No sorrow like separation,
No sickness like hunger of heart,
And no joy like the joy of freedom.
Health, contentment and trust
Are your greatest possessions,
And freedom your greatest joy.
Look within. Be still.
Free from fear and attachment,
Know the sweet joy of living in the way.
from the Dhammapada, Words of the Buddha
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
I'm Not Here .. (or at least I wish that were true).
That there, that's not me
I go where I please
I walk through walls
I float down the Liffey
I'm not here
This isn't happening
I'm not here, I'm not here
In a little while
I'll be gone
The moment's already passed
Yeah, it's gone
I'm not here
This isn't happening
I'm not here, I'm not here
Strobe lights and blown speakers
Fireworks and hurricanes
I'm not here
This isn't happening
I'm not here, I'm not here...
Monday, March 26, 2012
Acquainted with the Night
I have been one acquainted with the night.
I have walked out in rain -- and back in rain.
I have outwalked the furthest city light.
I have looked down the saddest city lane.
I have passed by the watchman on his beat
And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain.
I have stood still and stopped the sound of feet
When far away an interrupted cry
Came over houses from another street,
But not to call me back or say good-bye;
And further still at an unearthly height,
O luminary clock against the sky
Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right.
I have been one acquainted with the night.
Robert Frost
I have walked out in rain -- and back in rain.
I have outwalked the furthest city light.
I have looked down the saddest city lane.
I have passed by the watchman on his beat
And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain.
I have stood still and stopped the sound of feet
When far away an interrupted cry
Came over houses from another street,
But not to call me back or say good-bye;
And further still at an unearthly height,
O luminary clock against the sky
Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right.
I have been one acquainted with the night.
Robert Frost
Sunday, March 25, 2012
Sailing To Byzantium
Sailing To Byzantium
I
That is no country for old men. The young
In one another's arms, birds in the trees
---Those dying generations---at their song,
The salmon-falls, the mackerel-crowded seas,
Fish, flesh, or fowl commend all summer long
Whatever is begotten, born, and dies.
Caught in that sensual music all neglect
Monuments of unaging intellect.
II
An aged man is but a paltry thing,
A tattered coat upon a stick, unless
Soul clap its hands and sing, and louder sing
For every tatter in its mortal dress,
Nor is there singing school but studying
Monuments of its own magnificence;
And therefore I have sailed the seas and come
To the holy city of Byzantium.
III
O sages standing in God's holy fire
As in the gold mosaic of a wall,
Come from the holy fire, perne in a gyre,
And be the singing-masters of my soul.
Consume my heart away; sick with desire
And fastened to a dying animal
It knows not what it is; and gather me
Into the artifice of eternity.
IV
Once out of nature I shall never take
My bodily form from any natural thing,
But such a form as Grecian goldsmiths make
Of hammered gold and gold enamelling
To keep a drowsy Emperor awake;
Or set upon a golden bough to sing
To lords and ladies of Byzantium
Of what is past, or passing, or to come.
William Butler Yeats
I
That is no country for old men. The young
In one another's arms, birds in the trees
---Those dying generations---at their song,
The salmon-falls, the mackerel-crowded seas,
Fish, flesh, or fowl commend all summer long
Whatever is begotten, born, and dies.
Caught in that sensual music all neglect
Monuments of unaging intellect.
II
An aged man is but a paltry thing,
A tattered coat upon a stick, unless
Soul clap its hands and sing, and louder sing
For every tatter in its mortal dress,
Nor is there singing school but studying
Monuments of its own magnificence;
And therefore I have sailed the seas and come
To the holy city of Byzantium.
III
O sages standing in God's holy fire
As in the gold mosaic of a wall,
Come from the holy fire, perne in a gyre,
And be the singing-masters of my soul.
Consume my heart away; sick with desire
And fastened to a dying animal
It knows not what it is; and gather me
Into the artifice of eternity.
IV
Once out of nature I shall never take
My bodily form from any natural thing,
But such a form as Grecian goldsmiths make
Of hammered gold and gold enamelling
To keep a drowsy Emperor awake;
Or set upon a golden bough to sing
To lords and ladies of Byzantium
Of what is past, or passing, or to come.
William Butler Yeats
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Monday, February 13, 2012
Lo Que el Agua Me Dio
Florence Welch:
It's a song for the water, because in music and art what I'm really interested in are the things that are overwhelming. The ocean seems to me to be nature's great overwhelmer. When I was writing this song I was thinking a lot about all those people who've lost their lives in vain attempts to save their loved ones from drowning. It's about water in all forms and all bodies. It's about a lot of things; Virginia Woolf creeps into it, and of course Frida Kahlo, whose painfully beautiful painting gave me the title.
What the Water Gave Me
1938
Oil on canvas
38 x 30 in
Isadore Ducasse Fine Arts, New York
Sunday, February 12, 2012
Saturday, February 11, 2012
Off I Go ...
Trying just one more step in that path out of my self-imposed isolation (of which moving "upstate" was just the first nail in the proverbial coffin). Yeah, I'm going to the theater by myself. But you know what, it's theater that probably most people wouldn't want to sit through. Three and one-half hours of a Shakespearean history play with just one intermission? Not really. But that's OK. The last play I saw was at BAM as well, a Beckett play, Endgame, with John Turturro, Elaine Stritch and Max Casella. Again, not for everyone. But for me, it's that food I was talking about in a previous post.
As my bloggin' friend Randal Graves would say, if I were to become one of the Shiny Happy People his entire world view might collapse, or something to that effect.
I typically go to the theater with my younger sister. But, as our relationship has been become glass (also referring to a previous post, about relationships being like glass). I'd love to enjoy this with her. But that is not to be. Not now. And probably not ever. But that's OK.
So I'm off. To consider the nature of evil ... News at 11:00.
Kevin Spacey should stick to acting. His commentary on the play is a little disappointing to me. He's lacking intellectual gravitas. Sorry. Just my opinion.
As my bloggin' friend Randal Graves would say, if I were to become one of the Shiny Happy People his entire world view might collapse, or something to that effect.
I typically go to the theater with my younger sister. But, as our relationship has been become glass (also referring to a previous post, about relationships being like glass). I'd love to enjoy this with her. But that is not to be. Not now. And probably not ever. But that's OK.
So I'm off. To consider the nature of evil ... News at 11:00.
Kevin Spacey should stick to acting. His commentary on the play is a little disappointing to me. He's lacking intellectual gravitas. Sorry. Just my opinion.
Friday, February 10, 2012
Tomorrow ...
FRONT ROW CENTER at BAM !!
Among the many raves, Michael Billington, the Guardian's critic, wrote that, "When the history of Spacey's Old Vic regime is written, I suspect it will be his Richard...that will be most vividly remembered."
http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424052970204449804577068861041103228.html
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