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Post by Charlotte on Aug 1, 2014 9:11:43 GMT -5
Continuing the foreword on Griffins the World over. Dictionary "The griffin was a common feature of "animal style" Scythian gold. It was said to inhabit the Scythian steppes that reached from modern Ukraine to central Asian; there gold and precious stones were abundant and when strangers approached to gather the stones, the creatures would leap on them and tear them to pieces. The Scythians used giant petrified bones found in this area as proof of the existence of these griffins and thus keep outsiders away from the gold and precious stones." I couldn't get passed the first sentence and had to rearrange it in my head. Seems the ancient Cultures knew who or what the Griffin represented, mostly interpreted at face value rather than the language of mythology. "In Sumerian and Akkadian mythology, there's a demon Anzu, half man and half bird associated with the chief sky god Enlil. This was a divine storm-bird linked with the southern wind and the thunder clouds." In Sumerian language, "An" means "Heaven", and "Zu" means "to know", so Anzu knows heaven, but "is a lesser divinity or monster of Akkadian mythology, and the son of the bird goddess Siris. He was conceived by the pure waters of the Apsu and the wide Earth. Both Anzu and Siris are seen as massive birds who can breath fire and water, although Anzu is alternately seen as a lion-headed eagle (like a reverse griffin). Anzu, the servant and "guard of the throne in Enlil's sanctuary" stole "The Tablets of Destinies, so hoping to determine the fate of all things", but Enlil apparently has four wings and pursues him. en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zu_(mythology)
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Post by Charlotte on Aug 3, 2014 9:06:51 GMT -5
The Journey Perilous St. Isidore of Seville: "The Gryphes are so called because they are winged quadrupeds. This kind of wild beast is found in the Hyperborean Mountains. In every part of their body they are lions, and in wings and heads they are eagles, and they are fierce enemy of horses. Moreover they tear men to pieces." "In Europe, constantly falling snow makes those places contiguous with the Riphean Mountains so impassible that, in addition, they prevent those who deliberately travel here from seeing anything. After that comes a region of very rich soil but quite uninhabitable because griffins, a savage and tenacious breed of wild beasts, love- to an amazing degree- the gold that is mined from deep within the earth there, and because they guard it with amazing hostility to those who set foot there." (Romer, 1998.) Said my Philosophy Teacher, "when you stir up the cosmic dust you don't see anything, but sitting still by a brook you can hear the murmurs within." "In Jewish mythology, there's Ziz, that is similar to Anzu, as well as the ancient Greek Phoenix. Ziz is mentioned in the Bible (Psalm 50:11). This is also similar to Cherub. Cherub, or sphinx, was very popular in Phoenician iconography. "The Ziz - is a giant griffin-like bird in Jewish mythology, said to be large enough to block out the sun with its wingspan. "It once happened that travelers on a vessel noticed a bird. As he stood in the water, it merely covered his feet, and his head knocked against the sky. The onlookers thought the water could not have any depth at that point, and they prepared to take a bath there. A heavenly voice warned them: "Alight not here! Once a carpenter's axe slipped from his hand at this spot, and it took it seven years to touch bottom." The bird the travelers saw was none other than Ziz. His wings were so huge that unfurled they darken to sun. They protect the earth against the storms of the south; without their aid the earth would not be able to resist the winds blowing thence." en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ziz
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Post by Charlotte on Aug 4, 2014 8:52:57 GMT -5
The giant mythological bird Ziz of Jewish Mythology sheds more light on Griffin lore.
Of the Ziz, who stood in the water and whose "head knocked against the sky", I read on a Jewish site that "the gist is that the Ziz is a symbol of the conversation between men below and God above, and that conversation, like the head of Ziz, can reach the Holy Throne."
Wikipedia
Humphrey Prideaux in 1698 describes the Ziz as being like a giant celestial rooster:
"For in the Tract Bava Bathra of the Babylonish Talmud, we have a Story of such a prodigious Bird, called Ziz, which standing with his feet upon the Earth, reacheth up onto the Heavens with his head, and with the spreading of his Wings darkeneth the whole Orb of the Sun, and causeth a total Eclipse thereof. This Bird the Chaldee Paraphrast on the Psalms say, is a Cock, which he describes of the same bigness, and tells us that he crows before the Lord. And the Chaldee Paraphrast on Job also tells us of him, and of his crowing every morning before the Lord, and that God giveth him Wisdom for this purpose."
The Ziz is the Bird who pulls the Chariot of the Sun.
"The Ziz has another name, Renanin, because he is a celestial singer. On account of his relation to the heavenly regions he is also called Sekwi, the seer, and, besides, he is called "son of the nest," because his fledgling birds break away from the shell without being hatched by the mother bird; they spring directly from the nest, as it were. Like Leviathan, so Ziz is a delicacy to be served to the pious at the end of time, to compensate them for the privations which abstaining from the unclean fowls imposed upon them."
Then I came upon the Simurgh, "a benevolent, mythical flying creature", an Eagle or Falcon, for the Armenians a Peacock.
"In classical and modern Persian literature the Simorg is frequently mentioned, particularly as a metaphor for God in Sufi mysticism. In the 12th century Conference of the Birds, Iranian Sufi poet Farid ud-Din Attar wrote of a band of pilgrim birds in search of the Simurgh. In the poem, the birds of the world gather to decide who is to be their king, as they have none. The hoopoe, the wisest of them all, suggests that they should find the legendary Simorgh, a mythical Persian bird roughly equivalent to the western phoenix. The hoopoe leads the birds, each of whom represents a human fault which prevents man from attaining enlightenment. When the group of thirty finally reach the dwelling place of the Simorgh, all they find is a lake in which they see their own reflection."
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Post by Charlotte on Aug 5, 2014 8:15:21 GMT -5
The Simurgh
"Iranian legend considers the bird so old that it had seen the destruction of the world three times over. The Simurgh learned so much by living so long that it is thought to possess the knowledge of all the ages. In one legend, the Simurgh was said to live 1,700 years before plunging itself into flames (much like the phoenix).
"The simurgh was considered to purify the land and waters and hence bestow fertility. The creature represented the union between the Earth and the sky, serving as mediator and messenger between the two. The simurgh roosted in Gaokerena, the Hom (Avestan: Haoma) Tree of Life, which stands in the middle of the world sea Vourukhasa. This plant is potent medicine and is called all-healing, and the seeds of all plants are deposited on it. When the simurgh took flight, the leaves of the tree of life shook, making all the seeds of every plant fall out. These seeds floated around the world on the winds of VayuVata and the rains of Tishtrya, in cosmology taking root to become every type of plant that ever lived and curing all the illnesses of mankind.
The relationship between the simurgh and Hom is extremely close. Like the simurgh, Hom is represented as a bird, a messenger, and the essence of purity that can heal any illness or wound. Hom - appointed as the first priest - is the essence of divinity, a property it shares with the simurgh. The Hom is in addition the vehicle of farr(ah) - ("divine glory" or "fortune"). Farrah in turn represents the divine mandate that was the foundation of a king's authority.
"It appears as a bird resting on the head or shoulder of would-be kings and clerics, indicating Ormuzd's acceptance of that individual as his divine representative on Earth. For the commoner, Bahram wraps fortune/glory "around the house of the worshipper, for wealth in cattle, like the great sea bird Saena, and as the watery clouds cover the mountains".
This all-healing plant Gaokerena reminds one of the Vine of Dionyseus, and the watery clouds covering the mountains of Mana sandwiched between the morning and evening due.
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Post by Charlotte on Aug 6, 2014 8:28:11 GMT -5
A side note. Came across dark matter yesterday and thought that dark matter might be chaos, not visible chaos on Earth, but the chaos in the subatomic realm which we draw upon according to quantum mechanics to construct an 'orderly' pattern/picture for our form-bound Mind. The chaos of free-floating particles until we need them for that purpose. This would harmonize with my other notion that dark matter is all we're in the dark about, which, when we shed light on it becomes visible.
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Post by Charlotte on Aug 8, 2014 8:12:20 GMT -5
From the four corners of the World and down the ages, the numerous written accounts of the Griffin in its various forms, it becomes pretty obvious what Poets and great Minds mean to convey, and why the Griffin is depicted and therefore alive today on Flags, Coats of Arms, Churches, Tapestries, Statues, etc., even from this short inquiry. One thing is sure, to wit, the Griffin is not "a misconception derived from the fossilized remains" of a dinosaur "found in the gold mines in the Altai mountains of Skythia, in present day southeastern Kazakhstan, or Mongolia", or the nonsensical: "The griffin was a common feature of "animal style" Scythian gold." The Scythians are the Scots, and Isidore of Seville tells that the Griffin is found in the Hyperborian Mountains. In view of all writ and depictions, such can only be said by Literalists who need a rational explanation. Neither is the Griffin a "fictional creature", but, as stated in the wiki entry I agree with: "In antiquity it was a symbol of divine power and a guardian of the divine." The reason the Griffin yet has currency, is because from the beginning of time till now, Humanity is never deprived of Guardians of the Divine.
When some such Persons of learned mechanical intellect say, "it was believed", or "it was considered", I understand it to mean 'before we were enlightened', when actually we became benighted as time passed. If it weren't for the Renaissance, which Light is still obscured, we'd be in even greater trouble.
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Post by Charlotte on Aug 9, 2014 9:42:48 GMT -5
The interpretation of conformists that the Scythians used petrified bones "to prove the existence of griffins and thus keep outsiders away from gold and precious metals" is in that sense but fools gold, however, the Scythians did keep outsiders away from gold and precious metals: divine attributes needing to be guarded lest these are dragged into the watery bunkers.
We are told that the the wingspan of "Ziz" of Jewish mythology is so large as to block out the Sun, this Griffin-like bird being a symbol of conversation between men below and God above; that the German, Scythian and Greek monsters guarding the otherworld "engage in battles with the birds conveying the souls of the newly dead to the otherworld and returning with a variety of precious gifts symbolizing new life", that the Sumerian demon Anzu is half man, half bird, that "An" means Heaven and "Zu" means to know; that Simurgh and Hom represent the union between Heaven and Earth, additionally, Hom is the vehicle of Glory, a messenger and mediator as we know Mercury to be. Not to forget Hamlet who crawled between Heaven and Earth, Shakespeare himself as he was the Author, rather the Chief among the Shakespeare Group, the uncanny thing being that there is a distinct difference of the several Authors of the written Corpus and the one grand Mind inhabited by the Universal Spirit.
"In Dante Alighieri's Divine Comedy, Beatrice meets Dante in Earthly Paradise after his journey through Hell and Purgatory with Virgil have concluded. Beatrice takes off into the Heavens to begin Dante's journey through paradise on a flying Griffin that moves as fast as lightening."
If you want to go to Heaven
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Post by Charlotte on Aug 21, 2014 7:16:22 GMT -5
Celebrating Robert Plant's Birthday, my favorites
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Post by Charlotte on Sept 5, 2014 8:34:57 GMT -5
In need of Poetry, I shut out the world being absorbed by the sublime Poetry of great Cervantes, nay impossible to halt the "Journey to Parnassus" as each step leads to the next to fully enjoy the Bards mind. Not having enough time, I greet the season with Longfellow:
Thou comests, Autumn, heralded by the rain, With banners, the great gales incessant fanned, Brighter than the brightest silks of Samarcand, And stately oxen harnest to the wain! Thou standest, like imperial Charlemagne, Upon thy bridge of gold; thy royal hand Outstretched with benedictions o'er the land, Blessing the farms through all thy vast domain! Thy shield is the red harvest moon, suspended So long beneath the heavens o'er-hanging eaves; Thy steps are by the farmer's prayers attended; Like flames upon an altar shine thy sheaves; And, following thee, in thy ovation splendid, Thine almoner, the wind, scatters the golden leaves!
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Post by Charlotte on Sept 6, 2014 8:02:52 GMT -5
Miguel Cervantes
Journey to Parnassus. 237
Not rank, nor riches, but the wealth of soul Is all their claim, they make no other, none: For four that hit, a thousand miss the goal.
But Phoebus, who would fain all quarrel shun, Gave mandate, and forthwith Aurora hies To gather, at a seasons opportune,
From wealth of flowers on Flora's lap that lies, Four baskets-full of roses purpurine, And six of pearls dropped from her tearful eyes.
He begged the crowns, the fairest ever seen, The tuneful Nile upon their temples wear, Who gave them up with sweet and cheerful mien;
Three, to my mind, the fairest of the fair, To Naples went, I'm certain of the same; For Mercury himself conveyed them there;
Three other poets gained three crowns of fame, Who then were pilgrims at the sacred shrine, With deathless honor to their land and name;
Three came to Spain; and lo! three bards divine Entwined them round their brows; and verily Upon their heads with fitting grace they shine!
But now did envy, Nature's prodigy, Cursed, corroding, stung with rage insane, Against the sacred gift raise murmuring cry:
"And is it possible," she said, "that Spain Should have and boast nine poets laureate? Great is Apollo, but his judgment's vain!
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Post by Charlotte on Sept 8, 2014 7:45:30 GMT -5
Cervantes
Journey to Parnassus 235
The remnant of the crowd, with looks irate, Defrauded of their long expected prize, Took up the jarring strain of envious hate;
Before the fight began, their dazzled eyes Beheld them hailed as laureates of song, And now to heaven their shouts for justice rise.
But certain poets of the vulgar tongue Hope still, and soon, to wrest that honour rare, In spite of Phoebus and his tuneful throng;
Others, though worthy latinists, despair To pluck one leaflet from the laurel down, Though till their dying day they urge their prayer.
Those lost avenge themselves who most do frown; And one was seen to press his throbbing brow, As if he fancied he might touch the crown.
This most unseemly strife Apollo now Cooled down at once, and gave reward galore To every poet in the band, I vow;
Flora brought out five baskets from her store, Of Jasmines, Amarynths, and Roses fair, Aurora of her pearls as many more.
These were, sweat reader mine, the guerdons rare Which Phoebus scattered with a lavish hand Amongst the most poetic there;
They were, in sooth, a proud and happy band; A string of pearls, and eke a single rose, Were in their eyes a gift divinely grand.
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Post by Charlotte on Sept 12, 2014 7:45:14 GMT -5
Journey to Parnassus 113
Methought at once a strange resplendent hue O'erspread the sky, and lo! the smitten air Was pierced with sweetest music through and
And at one side I spied a squadron fair [through; Of beauteous nymphs come dancing to the song, With whom the ruddy god made sporting rare.
In rear of these three came at length along A wondrous being, 30 radiant as the light The Sun emits amid the starry throng;
The highest beauty pales before her sight And she remains alone in her array, Diffusing round contentment and delight.
She looked the likeness of Aurora gay, When, mid the roses and the pearly dew, She wakes to life and ushers in the day;
The garments rich, the jewels bright of hue Which gemmed her person, might hold rivalry With all the world of wonders ever knew.
The nymphs that did her bidding faithfully, In brilliant bearing and in sprightly ease, Seemed to me all the liberal arts should be;
They all with tender love, and joined to these The Sciences, most clear and most reserved, Did pay her reverence as on bended knees;
Showed that in serving her themselves were served, And that through her they, mid the nations all, A higher honour and respect preserved.
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Post by Charlotte on Sept 19, 2014 9:27:42 GMT -5
Just read an "alternative to quantum orthodoxy", called the "pilot wave theory", provided by the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. It explains my being sidetracked from a thought I have on a subject to others, which spawn other notions. "The fluid pilot-wave system is also chaotic." The "system consists of a bath of fluid vibrating at a rate just below the threshold at which waves would start to form on its surface. A droplet of the same fluid is released above the bath; where it strikes the surface, it causes waves to radiate outward. The droplet then begins moving across the bath, propelled by the waves it creates." Would that vibrating bath of fluids be the subatomic realm before the particles make waves?, so to speak. www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2014/09/140912120634.htmLogically, as long as there are waves the droplet cannot sink; just as my outward radiating side-thoughts hover about as long as my original thought, which created the side-thoughts, underpins/carries them, but, as it is "impossible to measure a bouncing droplets position accurately enough to predict its trajectory", so it is impossible to predict where the next thought leads to, so we're still in Heisenberg territory. The "pilot-wave theory" posits that quantum particles are borne along on some type of wave", though according to the theory, "the particles have definite trajectories", but because they are influenced by the "pilot wave" and therefore "exhibit wavelike statistics." My original Thought also has a definite trajectory but is influenced by following thoughts it creates and references stored in my mind. Particles as such do not have a definite trajectory, they appear and disappear as needed by the observer. There is mention of replacing "the philosophical vagaries of quantum mechanics with a concrete dynamical theory." A "concrete dynamical theory" sounds like an oxymoron. As far as I can see, there are vagaries in both, quantum mechanics and "pilot-wave theory", after all the Universe is dynamic lest it collapse. The last poem by Cervantes begins: Methought at once a strange resplendent hue O'erspread the sky, and lo! the smitten air Was pierced with sweetest music through . . . Creating a tonal pilot wave and all the particles came rushing in serving our imagination they themselves were served, and all the Universe resounded in Splendour.
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Post by Charlotte on Oct 9, 2014 8:22:10 GMT -5
All the World loves John Lennon.
I know how he felt watching the world go by like a bad movie, it's gotten worse by the day
Beautiful and mystic John
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Post by Charlotte on Nov 19, 2014 8:07:58 GMT -5
Dialectic, the science of the Idea itself; Physics, the knowledge of the Idea as incorporated or incarnated in the world of phenomena, and Ethics and Theory of the State, or the science of the Idea embodied in human conduct and human society. (a) DialecticThis is to be understood as synonymous not with logic but with metaphysics. It signifies the science of the Idea, the science of reality, science in the only true sense of the word. For the ideas are the only true realities in the world. We observe, for instance, just actions, and we know that some men are just. But both in the actions and in the persons designated as just there exist many imperfections; they are only partly just. In the world above us there exists only justice, absolute, perfect, unmixed with injustice, eternal, unchangeable, immortal. This is the Idea of justice. Similarly, in the world above us there exist the Ideas of greatness, beauty, wisdom, etc. and not only these, but also the Ideas of concrete material objects such as the Idea of man, the idea of horse, the idea of trees, etc. In a word, the world of Ideas is a counterpart of the world of our experience, or rather, the latter is a feeble imitation of the former. The Ideas are the prototypes, the phenomena are ectypes. In the allegory of the cave (Republic, VII, 514 d) a race of men are described as chained in a fixed position in a cavern, able to look only at the wall in front of them. When an animal, e.g. a horse, passes in front of the cave, they, beholding the shadow on the wall, imagine it to be reality, and while in prison they know of no other reality. When they are released and go into the light they are dazzled, but when they succeed in distinguishing a horse among the objects around them, their first impulse is to take that shadow for the being which they saw on the wall. The prisoners are "like ourselves", says Plato. The world of our experience, which we take to be real, is only a shadow world. The real world is the world of Ideas, which we reach, not by sense knowledge, but by intuitive contemplation. The Ideas are participated by the phenomena; but how this participation takes place, and in what sense the phenomena are imitations of the Ideas, Plato does not fully explain; at the most he invokes a negative principle, sometimes called "Platonic Matter", to account for the falling-off of the phenomena from the perfection of the Idea. The limitation principle is the cause of all defects, decay, and change in the world around us. The just man, for instance, falls short of absolute justice (the Idea of justice), because the Idea of justice is fragmented, debased, and reduced by the principle of limitation. Toward the end of his life, Plato leaned more and more toward the Pythagorean number-theory, and, in the "Timaeus" especially, he is inclined to interpret the Ideas in terms of mathematics. His followers emphasized this element unduly, and, in the course of neo-Platonic speculation, the Ideas were identified with numbers. There was much in the theory of Ideas that appealed to the first Christian philosophers. The emphatic affirmation of a supermundane, spiritual order of reality and the equally emphatic assertion of the caducity of things material fitted in with the essentially Christian contention that spiritual interests are supreme. To render the world of Ideas more acceptable to Christians, the patristic Platonists from Martyr to St. Augustine maintained that the world exists in the mind of God, and that this was what Plato meant. On the other hand, Aristotle understood Plato to refer to a world of Ideas self-subsisting and separate. Instead, therefore, of picturing to ourselves the world of Ideas as existing in God, we should represent God as existing in the world of Ideas. For, among the Ideas, the hierarchical supremacy is attributed to the Idea of God, or absolute Goodness, which is said to be for the supercelestial universe what the sun in the heavens is for this terrestrial world of ours. www.newadvent.org/cathen/12159a.htmI separated the article into paragraphs.
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Post by Charlotte on Jan 4, 2015 10:15:53 GMT -5
Marvelous, the timing of the comet Lovejoy to usher in the New Year, it appears to be "green", new growth in our collective consciousness to reach the critical point, and voila, Lovejoy will capture the Republicans and Atheists in his tail and leave the Light for the People.
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Post by Charlotte on Jan 10, 2015 10:55:31 GMT -5
Arthur M. Young, Scientist and inventor of the Bell helicopter, awarded the World's first commercial helicopter license.
Introduction from "The Bell Notes", A Journey from Physics to Metaphysics.
"To be free from the laws we must know what they are. That is the role of consciousness," he asserts confidently."
"He came to perceive that the "uncertainty" discovered by Heisenberg, and demonstrated to be fundamental to the behavior of atomic particles, can be equated with freedom, placing a definite limit on determinism as a means of understanding the universe. While physicists evolve ever more complex explanations, Young argues that the unpredictability of nuclear particles is an indication that we have reached the realm of action rather than of things, and that such unpredictability will never be "overcome." In other words, the uncertainty of the electron must be seen as ontological and not simply epistemological. The quantum of action (the photon or fundamental unit of light cannot be comprehended in terms of space and time. In fact, it is from the photon, from light, that mass, energy, and time are born, and it must therefore be recognized as "first cause"—which is precisely the teaching of revealed religion."
I'm ignorant as to where current science 'is', if they're still chasing the Higgs boson, which I read gives mass to particles. Perhaps it is called the "God particle" in the hope to find God and prove or disprove the existence of God, showing that Scientists are on the fence as to creation vs evolution, and in due time have to concede that there is no conflict.
I side with Mr. Young and Light as the fiat of Creation, and with the quantum physics of Hermes, "It is man's knowledge of the arts and sciences that keeps order in the universe."
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Post by Charlotte on Jan 11, 2015 10:19:41 GMT -5
Percy B. Shelley
Prometheus Unbound
"My purpose has hitherto been simply to familiarize the highly refined imagination of the more select reader classes of poetical readers with beautiful idealism of moral excellence; aware that, until the mind can love, and admire, and trust, and hope, and endure, reasoned principles of moral conduct are seeds cast upon the highway of life which the unconscious passenger tramples into dust, although they would bear the harvest of his happiness."
With these profound words my Philosophy Teacher began the lecture series on the Titan, then, after a few moments of silence a smile came to his face and he told us that on sunny days, "this most excellent Poet" sat high up on the ruins of the Carracalla Baths in Rome to write Prometheus unbound.
Prometheus saw, and walked the legioned hopes Which sleep within folded elysian flowers, Nepenthe, moly, amaranth, fadeless blooms, That they might hide with thin and rainbow wings The shape of Death; and Love he sent to bind The disunited tendrils of the vine "Which bears the wine to life, the human heart; And he tamed fire, - which, like some beast of prey Most terrible but lovely, played beneath The frown of man, and tortured to his will Iron and gold, the slaves and signs of Power, And gems and poisons, and all subtlest forms Hidden beneath the mountains and the waves. He gave Man speech, and speech created thought, Which is the measure of the universe; And science struck the thrones of earth and heaven, "Which shook but fell not; and the harmonious mind Poured itself forth in all-prophetic song; And music lifted up the listening spirit, Until it walked, exempt from mortal care, Godlike, o'er the clear billows of sweet sound; And human hands first mimicked, and then mocked With moulded limbs more lovely than its own, The human form, till marble grew divine, And mothers, gazing, drank the love men see Reflected in their race, behold, and perish.
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Post by Charlotte on Jan 12, 2015 9:48:18 GMT -5
"The work of Wordsworth and Coleridge, of Keats and Shelley, is in tone frankly ideal. The idealism which pervades all the writings of these poets, from the ancient Mariner to Hyperion, finds its fullest and most glorious manifestation in the Prometheus Unbound, which is the supreme achievement of Shelley. Despite the wondrous nature-poetry of the drama, the whole action takes place, not on this solid earth of hills and forest, but in an unknown region which has no existence outside the soul of man.—The personages are vast abstractions, dim though luminous, like wraiths of mist in the morning sunlight that drift around us, appearing, vanishing, in mystic sequence. Over the whole drama plays, though with broken and wavering lustre, the "light that never was on sea or land," and not once does the "poet's dream" change to the sober world of waking fact.
"Yet to speak of Prometheus Unbound as the highest expression of modern English idealism is hardly to justify our claim that the drama is unique. We find much contemporary poetry of the same order, although less great; and our English genius is, moreover, too plastic to lack entirely, at any period, the ideal element. It is in the work of the sixteenth century that we find the closest parallel to Prometheus Unbound. Edmund Spencer, during full dominance of Elizabethan realism, is as pure and idealist as Shelley, and the Faery Queene and the modern drama are in many ways strangely akin. At a glance, this kinship is obvious. The two poems belong alike to the highest order of imaginative work which includes the Book of Job, Faust, Paracelsus, and claims as its greatest example the Divine Comedy of Dante. Both poems deal with spiritual forces, with the eternal conflict of good and evil, the action to be wrought out is in both the final redemption of the soul of man. The Faery Queene, like the Prometheus, transports us to the unreal world, where forms of visionary beauty speak to us, not of concrete human life, but of ethical and spiritual truth. Both poems, in a word, are symbolic."
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Post by Charlotte on Jan 13, 2015 11:26:02 GMT -5
Prometheus Unbound
"Norsemen, that we find the great mythic cycles treasured by our scholars to-day, - poem stories, with the dawn-light fresh upon them. Through our own oldest epic, Beowulf, even yet flash traces of the myth; but they soon fade out, never to reappear, replaced by the frank and sunny naturalism of Chauser, Shakespeare, and Browning.
"never to reappear? Not so. In the early days of out own century, when the English race had passed through many a stern experience, when it had gathered much of the bitter wisdom of maturity into its thought and speech, once more it was to dream dreams and see visions, and the fairest of these dreams was to be given to the world through the poet-soul of Shelley, a genuine and beautiful myth, in the form of Prometheus Unbound. Prometheus, Asia, lone, - their likeness is to be sought, not in Macbeth, a Desdemona, or a Pompilia, but in Thetis the silver-footed, in Perseus, slayer of the Gorgon, in Athene, child of Zeus. The mystic action of the drama recalls, not the human stir and passion of our modern tragedy, but in the solemn movement of the stories of the elder world. The Prometheus Unbound is no more retelling of an ancient tale, like the Greek poems of William Morris; it is in all essential an original conception. The drama starts, indeed, from the Eschylean story, but the development of the action, the personages, the mode of treatment, are absolutely the poet's own. Like the tales of gods and heroes in the Homeric cycle, even more like the treatment of those stories with a fuller spiritual consciousness in the work of the Greek tragedians, are the great imaginings of Shelley."
It was Robert Browning's Poetry I was looking for this morning, and Don, if you read this, and to my surprise, I happened on my post: "Der Wind, der Wind, das himmlische Kind" you posted Yahoo, taking me to a wonderful birch tree, my favorite, branches made to sway and leafs to tremble by the invisible Wind. As I watched, it reminded me of particles in the subatomic realm which no one has ever seen, but can be deemed to be there by the effects, called vapors, I think.
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Post by Charlotte on Jan 16, 2015 10:04:45 GMT -5
The uncompromising Rebel, Shelley, August 4, 1792 - July 8, 1822 Shelley "was one of the major English Romantic poets, and is regarded by some critics as amongst the finest lyric poets in the English language. A radical in his poetry as well as his political and social views, Shelley did not achieve fame during his lifetime, but recognition for his poetry grew steadily following his death. Shelley was a key member of a close circle of visionary poets and writers that included Lord Byron; Leigh Hunt; Thomas Love Peacock; and his own second wife, Mary Shelley, the author of Frankenstein. "His close circle of admirers, however, included some progressive thinkers of the day, including his future father-in-law, the philosopher William Goodwin. Though Shelley's poetry and prose output remained steady throughout his life, most publishers and journals declined to publish his work for fear of being arrested themselves for blasphemy or sedition. Shelley did not live to see success and influence, although these reach down to the present day not only in literature, but in major movements in social and political thought. "Shelley became an idol of the next three or four generation of poets, including important Victorian and Pre-Raphaelite poets such as Browning and Dante Gabriel Rossetti. He was admired by Oscar Wilde, Thomas Hardy, George Bernard Shaw, Bertrand Russell, W.B. Yeats, Karl Marx, Upton Sinclair and Isadora Duncan. Henry David Thoreau's civil disobedience was apparently influenced by Shelley's non-violence protest and political action. Shelley's popularity and influence has continued to grow in contemporary poetry circles." en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Percy_Bysshe_Shelley
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Post by Charlotte on Jan 16, 2015 10:04:55 GMT -5
Deleted
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Post by Charlotte on Jan 18, 2015 10:10:57 GMT -5
Happy and content, Shelley spent his childhood in the country hunting and fishing, and was home schooled "by the Reverend Evan of nearby Warnham." Go along with the program or suffer. The ten year old "Shelley entered Eton College, where he fared poorly, and was subjected to an almost daily mob torment at around noon by older boys, who aptly called these incidents "Shelley-baits". Surrounded, the young Shelley would have his books torn from his hands and his clothes pulled at and torn until he cried out madly in his high-pitched "cracked soprano" of a voice. This daily misery could be attributed to Shelley's refusal to take part in f*gging and his indifference towards games and other youthful activities. Because of these peculiarities he acquired the nickname "Mad Shelley". Were I alive and attended the same school as the Poet, I would have defended him, and he might have helped me fight off "Kunigunde" and others who harassed and slapped me about, resulting in great Friendship We could have wandered through the fields and listened to the trees and other mysterious sounds in the forest and composed Poetry as beautiful as the spectacular sunrise I behold at the moment. "Shelley possessed a keen interest in science at Eton, which he would often apply to cause a surprising amount of mischief for a boy considered to be so sensible. Shelley would often use a frictional electric machine to charge the door handle of his room, much to the amusement of his friends. His friends were particularly amused when his gentlemanly tudor, Mr Bethell, in attempting to enter his room, was alarmed at the noise of the electric shock's, despite Shelley's dutiful protestations. His mischievous side was again demonstrated by "his last bit of naughtiness at school," which was to blow up a tree on Eton's South Meadow with gunpowder. Despite these jocular incidents, a contemporary of Shelley, W.H. Merie, recalls that Shelley made no friends at Eton, although he did seek a kindred spirit without success." Neither did I, have friends, nor found a kindred spirit, so I climbed up the Church Tower, looked and dreamed of the miraculous which I knew was out there, somewhere. Reversed, if Shelley lived today www.youtube-nocookie.com/embed/LYKg0gbRFns?rel=0
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Post by Charlotte on Jan 19, 2015 10:23:21 GMT -5
At the age of eighteen, Shelley entered the University College, Oxford. "Legend has it that Shelley attended only one lecture while at Oxford, but frequently read sixteen hours a day." He "published his second Gothic novel, St. Irvyne; or, The Rosicrucian, and a pamphlet called The Necessity of Atheism. Shelley and his collaborator Hogg were expelled from Oxford for publishing the pamphlet, but: "The rediscovery in mid-2006 of Shelley's long lost "Poetical Essay on the Existing State of Things - a long, strident anti-monarchical and anti-war poem printed in 1811 in London by Crosby and Company as "by a gentleman of the University of Oxford" - gives a new dimension to the expulsion, reinforcing Hogg's implication of political motives ("an affair of party"). Shelley was given a choice to be reinstated after his father intervened, on the condition that he would have to recant his avowed views. His refusal to do so led to a falling-out with his father." Shelley then "eloped to Scotland with the 16-year old Harriet Westbrook", distraught over conditions at school and home, as was Shelley "heartbroken after the failure of his romance with his cousin, Harriet Grove, - and convinced he had not long to live", decided to marry the beneath his station Harriet Westbrook, of which his father, Sir Timothy Shelley, disapproved and revoked Percy's allowance. "Shelley was also at this time increasingly involved in an intense platonic relationship with Elizabeth Hitchener, a 28-year-old schoolteacher of advanced views, with whom he had corresponding. Hitchener, whom Shelley called the "sister of my soul" and "my second self", became his muse and confidante in the writing of his philosophical poem Queen Mab, a Utopian allegory." www.bartleby.com/139/shel111.htmlA window into Shelley's and Elizabeth's Mind, this very long, profound Poem.
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Post by Charlotte on Jan 20, 2015 10:29:04 GMT -5
Taking from the little I read, Percy Shelley lived an intense, interesting and tumultuous life, informed by his rich and difficult inner Life and fiat of circumstances, one being his friendship with Lord Byron. Shelley died age 29, and Byron at age 36.
Shelley drowned in a severe storm on the Gulf of Spezia, Italy. Several accounts of how can be read in the link, one stating "that Shelley's death was not accidental, that Shelley was depressed and wanted to die", which agrees with my Teacher of Philosophy, who would say the Poet was not depressed, but rather melancholy, seemingly characteristic of Poets. The Teacher also remarked that Shelley went out to challenge storms on Lake Geneva representative of the storms raging within himself. This I believe.
"The day after the news of his death reached England, the Tory newspaper The Courier gloated: "Shelley, the writer of some infidel poetry, has been drowned, now he knows whether there is a God or no.
"Shelley's ashes were interred in the Protestant Cemetery, Rome, near an ancient pyramid in the city walls. His grave bears the Latin inscription, Cor Cordium ("Heart of Hearts"), and, in reference to his death at sea, a few lines of "Ariel's Song" from Shakespeare's The Tempest: "Nothing of him that doth fade / But doth suffer a sea-change / Into something rich and strange."
"A memorial was eventually created for Shelley at the Poet's Corner at Westminster Abbey, along with his friends Lord Byron and John Keats. - Shelley's unconventional life and uncompromising idealism, combined with his strong disapproving voice, made him an authoritative and much denigrated figure during his life and afterwards."
Henry David Thoreau and Gandhi were influenced by "Shelley's nonviolence in protest and political action", and "Shelley's Masque of Anarchy has been called "perhaps the first modern statement of the principle of nonviolent resistance", so the description of Shelley as a "beautiful and ineffectual angel" might be short.
The Gulf of the Poets
Lake Geneva
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Post by Charlotte on Jan 23, 2015 11:42:49 GMT -5
Don't know whom to credit for, "Inform your wave function so you can make a decision", so apt in my case, because I have been leafing through books and articled to decide what subject to write about, I need to learn more, which is about everything. I don't mean snippets here and there as I have done lately, but exploring one particular subject until I can form an opinion or come to an understanding. Been thinking of a commentary on "The Never Ending Story", appropriate for our time because the "Nothing" is yet everywhere and stifles our individual and collective progress. Of course, I have to pause the film frame by frame, point out what I think it means, and along this journey perilous walk many side roads and back, it's a habit with Germans, says Mr. Hall, probably because so many related ideas come in. I love these types for Earth-children stories and films, sure to keep me busy for several month A great weekend to All.
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Post by Charlotte on Jan 25, 2015 10:22:37 GMT -5
Sunday Morning High
My prayers and entreaties will I now send forth heart and hands aloft to Helicon, to that ninefold throne whence the fountains spring from which the gift of words and meaning flow. It's host and its nine hostesses are Apollo and the Camenae.... And could I obtain of it but a single drop, my words would be dipped in the glowing crucible of Camenian inspiration, to be there transmuted into something strangely wonderful, made to order, like Arabian gold.
Parzival Wolfram von Eschenbach,
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Post by Charlotte on Mar 1, 2015 9:53:39 GMT -5
Spent time with the Irish last evening, made me a bit homesick.
Walzing with them anyhow
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Post by Charlotte on Apr 26, 2015 16:01:10 GMT -5
This majestical canopy fretted with golden fire ...
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Post by Charlotte on May 1, 2015 8:24:44 GMT -5
Reading Rongorongo parts 6 and 7 this morning so frazzled me that I looked to Beethoven for calmness, but in the right rubric was "suggested for you"
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