Confrontation

OK. The problem didn't go away by itself. Too bad.

This will drive me crazy, simply, because I cannot understand how that happened.

The other day I was editing a post, because I was thinking of a certain Rilke poem and wanted to have a look at it. Going through it I figured I needed the whole thing and not just the extract I picked out back then. So I changed it. 

And I have this thing that I always need to remember everything that's happened or I've seen (even if it's dead and ugly). Thus, I document, annotate, save and back-up save everything in multiple folders, pdf files and whatever else. And I was thinking to myself, Why are even you doing this? It on my blog. It's pointless.

Answer came within the next 12 hours. Great. I can never trust the internet again.

Using my pdf's at least I can quickly find back the pic belonging to each post.

Maybe I find something I forgot. It's quite helpful sometimes to recall things I kind of worked out for myself before and I usually find some comfort in it.

Right now I find comfort in here:

"Anyone who cannot come to terms with his life  while he is alive needs one hand to ward off a little his despair over his fate... but with his other hand he can note down what he sees among the ruins." - Franz Kafka

I'm going to fix the Kafka posts first. And for the rest - if you're looking for me, 

I'll be under the ruins.

This is not necessarily good.

_
✓

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I think it broke!

My blog broke itself! Or I finally broke the both of us. Sometimes hard to tell.

MY EMOTIONAL CARRIER SYSTEM BROKE!

Well. A certain liability to instability is indestructible. I can always rely on that and let it devour me, while I hope the problem goes away.
Which usually it doesn't.

Still. PLEEEASE GO AWAY!

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Compilation of the Heart - Heisenberg's Uncertainty Principle

You see the trunk and don't realize the tree has been cut down.

But hey, if you don't know where you are, at least you know how fast you're going.

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Evidence for the Absence of God

Hermann Hesse - Das Glasperlenspiel

Dienst

Im Anfang herrschten jene frommen Fürsten,

Feld, Korn und Pflug zu weihen und das Recht

Der Opfer und der Maße im Geschlecht

Der Sterblichen zu üben, welche dürsten

Nach der Unsichtbaren gerechtem Walten,

Das Sonn' und Mond im Gleichgewichte hält,

Und deren ewig strahlende Gestalten

Des Leids nicht kennen und des Todes Welt.

Längst ist der Göttersöhne heilige Reihe

Erloschen, und die Menschheit blieb allein,

In Lust und Leides Taumel, fern vom Sein,

Ein ewiges Werden ohne Maß und Weihe.

Doch niemals starb des wahren Lebens Ahnung,

Und unser ist das Amt, im Niedergang

Durch Zeichenspiel, durch Gleichnis und Gesang

Fortzubewahren heiliger Ehrfurcht Mahnung.

Vielleicht, daß einst das Dunkel sich verliert,

Vielleicht, daß einmal sich die Zeiten wenden,

Daß Sonne wieder uns als Gott regiert

Und Opfergaben nimmt von unsern Händen.

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Worship

In the beginning was the rule of sacred kings

Who hallowed field, grain, plow, who handed down

The law of sacrifices, set the bounds

To mortal men forever hungering

For the Invisible Ones' just ordinance

That holds the sun and moon in perfect balance

And whose forms in their eternal radiance

Feel no suffering, nor know death's ambience.

Long ago the sons of the gods, the sacred line,

Passed, and mankind remained alone,

Embroiled in pleasure and pain, cut off from being,

Condemned to change unhallowed, unconfined.

But intimations of the true life never died,

And it is for us, in this time of harm,

To keep, in metaphor and symbol and in psalm,

Reminders of that sacred reverence.

Perhaps some day the darkness will be banned,

Perhaps some day the times will turn about,

The sun will once more rule us as our god,

And take the sacrifices from our hand.

Hermann Hesse – The Glass Bead Game

Translation

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The Dividing Line

Parallel Mirrors

    

The world, as we see it,

is a mirror of the mind,

at which the mind glares, trying

to look back at itself,

but always falling, lost

in its Narcissus stare.

The mind, as it is,

is a mirror of the world,

and when the world moves

a strong godlike right arm,

a bantam left hand points down

at the dark back of the mind.

I stare at you often,

as if you were my world,

wanting you to stare back at me

with a deliberation

and a mischievous intensity

that undresses all will and thoughts.

Will I dare return it?

Or was I the one who started?

If I am a reflex

let me be aware of it,

so that your gaze on my face

finds a mirror with a purpose.

Armando Halpern

  

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Shipwreck

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I'm fine.

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Special Topics in Calamity Physics

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