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Paris 2002

A Poet's Holiday

(or there and back again)

"Actually these business trips are ok, but having to work while away from home is patently absurd" -- quote attributed to T'rrr'rr'loch the Travelor (Additional images and text on the TRAVEL page)
As if traversing the inside of a scalloped onion, the white alabaster toroid looms over-head, curving to the left, up and up we go, until we reach the sign that says
Opening Dedication: Arivee a l'airporte Finally into hard slumber's arms an old poet's weary body heavily falls. And but Lo! Called from nature's healing remedy, he sits shivering at a round table -- fuzzy-blue-blanket hafl-held with one hand (and half holding a kleenex) the other hand holds a pen.


Of a certain hat, nose and stature

HARD sculpted this clam -- a nautillas -- of harsh clay of cold soil is cast the man. Rounded interiors -- of a man called de Gaulle, his airport named after.
Hard won, a bitter triumph, a delicate democrocie teeters ... about to fall, when a kind hand steadies the cradle of Chopahn's last retreat: d'Gaul.
Half torn from on war's wounds, betrayed and betrayor easily yield to (mangineau's conquorer, a little corporal) and to LIGHTENING'S ZOT and startled suprise to many a Frankish steeded cavalry-mon. Fizzled fire-cracker rejecting the half-breed Saxon's offer of: The Union of Two Nations Frank and Brit. CAPITULATION, OCCUPATION, HESITATION. All is lost. And yet....


FORGED IN THAT MOMENT'S RUBICON: One last time to leave the third republic's shores. FORMED CAST SCULPTED
resolved.
Made manifest; a symbol: a hat, a nose, a stature: French: de Gaulle.


Pizo Productions presents

(a fully non-diversified subsidiary of FPPC)

"Art Lesson"

Gleeba: Why so glum, Meepo? Meepo: I can't remember: On the Mona Lisa, are her hands folded left over right, or right over left. Or can you see her hands at all? It's driving me nuts -- I musta seen that painting a billion times!!!! Gleeba: When you have perfection you can never see it exactly. Ever. Meepo: That really helps!


Tau #57

You govern a Kingdom by normal rules; You fight a war by exceptional moves; But, you win the world by letting alone. How do I Know that is so? By what is within me!
The more taboo's and inhibitions that there are in the world, The poorer the people become. The sharper the weapons the people possess, The greater the confusino that reigns in the realm. The more clever and crafty the men, The oftener strange things happen. The more articulate the laws and ordinances, The more robbers and thieves arise.
Therefore, the Sage says: I do not make any fuss, and the people transform themselves. I love quietude, and the people settle down in their regular grooves. I do not engage myself in anything, and people grow rich. I have no desires, and the people return to simplicity.
On a round table, sits a triangular piece of racclette cheese (some-where between Mazarella and Gouda in mildness, a half-full bottle of Peach Juice in a square wine-bottle-like plastic bottle, and an apple core (with stem).  Outside a ficticious window, a bit of Le Louvre can be seen.  Triangular the modern pyramid Pei placed; some-how it works. (Tao Teh Ching by Lao Tzu, translated by John C.H. Wu, Shambhala Dragon Editions, ISBN 0-87773-388-0)



The muses are beyond our understanding. They guide us in ways that the General, The King (or their Guards) can never comprehend. And yet it is by that very distinction that the distinction itself arises. The General and The King demand to KNOW, demand to understand. And they send their guards -- dumb-footed-portly; but never tasting fat, hard-faced-sharp; but never savoring cheese, cold-hearted-stern; but never in awe of lightening. They in all of their mix of lust, greed, power, glory, dross (and not to forget FAME; the worst drug of all) They grabble and grains of sand (this thing called "understanding"). -- and yet we do not need to undestand know control have want need desire -- for we are.


He was enticed by her beauty, for indeed he had beheld beauty before. And he stumbled, his legs giving out. He was enticed by her charm, for charm is a wondrous spell. And he seemed as if in a trance of un-imaginable delight. He was enticed by her spirit, for the spirit is the direct-essence of all things. And then he took flight, fleeing from her, For he recognized these strengths within her, and drew back, affraid. But. She only held out her hand to form a perch. And gently, ever so gently, he settled dove-like, trembling upon her out-stretched hand. And she said only to him: "Go. For the world needs your words." And the poet (with small tears in his eyes) flew off into the dark night, to bring songs of love, peace and hope to all. For. She is his muse.


Tau #47

Without going out of your door, You can know the ways of the World. Without peeping through your window, You can see the way of Heaven. The farther you go, The less you know. Thus, the Sage knows without travelling, Sees without looking, And achieves wihtout Ado, non-ado. (ref: opus citato, John C.H. Wu)


On thoughts mostly politic

Openning Dedication: Of things that we think that we know: Few. Of those things that we think that we understand: Fewer still. Of that which (when we allow ourselves to) of those things that we feel: Infinite.
The Rational Communist recognizes that for some, there can only be capitalism. The Rational Capitalist recognizes that for some, there can only be communism. The sage by non-ado shows to each that both are completely correct.
The communist and the capitalist see in the mirror their sworn enemy -- and hence the cold war. Each defines themselves by the the other. If the capitalist builds a great tower (to proclaim their single ego) and this inspires the people with the limitless nature of the spirit, If the communist tears down all institutions (to decry the selfishness of the aristocracy) and this inspires the people with the limitless compassion of the heart, Then they are both the two halves of the tao.
If the capitalist pulls from the people all of the products of their days work and decries the uniqueness of each individual, If the communist mixes the people into an indistinguishable soupd and decries the uniqueness of each individual, Then they both deny the tao, and only sing the fames of the ego of the beauty of the nature of the glory of the system of their "truth".
The gods laugh at such folly. The sage wisely records the histories of these lost civilisations to be studied by sages yet to come, and ignored by kings, tyrants, and generals yet un-borne, and never will.
The sage understands the tao and its one-ness with all things. The sage understands the tao and its two-aspects against itself. (and these too are illusions of distinction). The sage (through much study and contemplation), realizes and knows that it is the tau, as the tau must be, and as the tau is.
The communist and the capitalist will agree on the division of the world -- for without light there can be no shadow. And without shadow there can be no "distinguishments". They both see in the sage (and hence in the mystery of the tao) danger. For greater danger than each perceives in each other, they fear knowledge. Thus, fear of self-knowledge and self-understanding, and ultimately fear of understanding their mirror image: Unites capitalist and communist to battle against the same sages in each of their dominions. But, it is their un-spoken fear of the tao, that they treuly battle against.
It is comforting for the extreme to know that its exact opposite exists.
The first image is a circle almost closed.  C1 and C2 are separated by a 'gap' in  the circle, but they can clearly see each other.  As this 'band' opens up, it slowly flattens out and stretches longer and longer so that C1 and C2 move further and further from each other and the line connecting them becomes thinner and thinner.  Until all that remains are two very small dots all alone in the universe, completely un-aware of their mirror image the second half of the above image
For each: The greatest fear is the vast emptiness of alone-ness.


Final song (for now):
42
Macro universe within, micro without: "Hold infinity in your hand and eternity in an hour" -- Blake But mainly: Read poetry! You'll be amazed at your mile-age! -- Paris, 2002.
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