return of persephone

For This Reason Above All

For This Reason Above All

As a child, I thought time existed because of motion.
If everything were still, time would stop.
But there wasn't really any reason to stop it then.

"Superman can't be hurt," the other kids said, "So he really isn't brave."
But I didn't believe them.
They were just jealous, scared that you can't die.
[You even reversed the Earth's
spin to go back in time to save Lois.]

I imagine it's very quiet in the Fortress of Solitude.
It must have been nice at first, having all that time to think
and seeing your dad Jor-El in the icy Art Deco of Kryptonian architecture.
But I'd get lonely after a while, a house of frozen mirrors
and no one else to see your youth subside.

[A teaspoon of neutron star weighs a hundred million tons,
and you scoop it up like snow-cone.]
But in an irreversible moment, even Krypton got old.
That's why it exploded, right? Taking your dad and everyone else like you with it,
his words some alien tongue:
"They only lack the light to show the way. For this reason
above all, their capacity for good, I have sent them you..."

You don't fight for your father, you fight
in spite of him, to survive.
But we don't really love you,
or want you to thrive.
We secretly wish you would die.
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return of persephone

Hip-hop Theolo-G (continued)

(...continued from

Maybe it\\\'s because I\\\'m left-handed, but to me all of these passages are merely clever ways of describing the inside-out spiritoscientific postulate that the Universe is a creator-less Creation.

According to Richard Dawkins, ( the world we live in is the combination of chance and a logical necessity of a pattern we cannot see, and therefore externalize. As Zen Master Dogen explains, it\\\'s the blade of a sword that cannot cut itself ( Wittgenstein ( describes a person trying to use the observations of the world to describe something that lies outside of the observable world.
(view image at
It\\\'s logically meaningless. Of course, this idea is similar to a cosmological anthropic principle (, which among other things suggests that universes that do not support intelligent life are not worth investigating because the conditions for empirical investigations never arise. Our universe is nicely tuned to allow for the development of carbon-based life. This can be extended to suggest that representational perception is a requisite for the existence of the objective world. Others actually use the anthropic principle to argue for the existence of a Creator, ironically inverting Leibniz\\\'s postulate that because God exists he would have chosen the best possible world (least amount of possible evil) for existence (

Leibniz was, of course, famously mocked in Voltaire\\\'s Candide. [Leibniz was also fascinated by the mathematical necessity of Neo-Confucian cosmology: Undifferentiated unity is split into yin and yang, which after another five splits (2 to the sixth power) begets sixty-four possibilities, which are the sixty-four hexagrams of the Yijing {I-Ching} (Jung saw them as psychological archetypes). If you divine the Yijing twice in a row, the differential of the hexagrams is the movement of the Dao, which will guide you to the most harmonious course of action.]

Hold up, fuck all this mentally masturbatory noise. \\\"Fuck myself off cuz of the egotistical mode I\\\'m in.\\\" In case ya\\\'ll forgot my disclaimer (, I\\\'ve been writing this blog to an audience of one. I\\\'m falling into Wittgenstein\\\'s trap. Clearly, I need a different hobby. In Hamlet, Lord Polonius quips, \\\"Brevity is the soul of wit.\\\" Guess that means I\\\'m witless: Peace Out.

*For a number of years I\\\'ve subscribed to the idea that deriving ethics from mysticism, metaphysics, or theology is a dangerous enterprise. The idea that wisdom and compassion are inseparable is an important part of Buddhism, but these days, as a secular humanist, I think it\\\'s safest to leave my ethical guidance to basic utilitarian philosophy with a dash of ego annihilation. Reading about Paul Farmer, the founder of Partners of Health and an adherent of liberation theology, and his concept of Areas of Moral Clarity, has inspired me to reinvestigate the relationship between ethics and religion.

*New wine into old wineskins ( is some gospelly shit that I don\\\'t quite follow about justifying making your own religion. This post may make it seem like I don\\\'t believe in anything, and it\\\'s true that I\\\'ve joined and left Christianity in a way and in another way Buddhism as well, but I quite feel the idea that though as humans we have freedom and the awareness of beauty and a special aptitude for existential irony, though the world is just too big for us to wrap our little minds around it fully and gain complete control. It\\\'s the paradox of being a subjective being in an objective world, blah blah blah, ad infinitum, ad nauseum.
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    restless restless
return of persephone


I just read today that Voyager One is one the edge of the Heliosphere, ten billion miles away from the earth. Wowie!
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return of persephone

new blog

I know it's been maybe half a year, and this makes a total of 5 posts on my livejournal, and I'm uncertain if anyone even added me to their friendlist, but I'm starting a blogspot:

I was inspired to do it after taking a five-day vacation and discovering what all the hullababoo about this part of this world is about.

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    chinese pop never changes
return of persephone

All apologies

My inner train of intuition has been
running in tighter circles of late.
Dreams change as water dissolves in air.
It's been more humid these days, but

Mike got his scholarship.
I think I'll jump ship to
India for the Dalai in August
(crawl to China by the Fall).

In a single moment,
without reference,
le Dao n'existe pas.
A process cannot be defined without
a differential to be metered. (Haiku:

These are slides, although
when too many change at once,
some go unnoticed.)

As people and things circle
back before my eyes, I renew
my fear of what bridges
potentiality and instantiation:

the invisible miracle that refracts
a Platonic Ideal into form, or
the horror between what is
and how it could have been.
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return of persephone


I received a very encouraging email from my good friend in Beijing, Eve Bower, who recommended that I do freelance work in China in order to have more freedom (duh), but so that I can bthefaithful to my typical not planning much ahead of time adventure scenario. I think my new strategy will just to have a destination and a couple of interview set up ahead of time, and a nice translation of my resume into Chinese.

This is kind of hair-brained, but so was moving to New Orleans and so far the inertia is still in its upswing.
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return of persephone


I'm attending Alicia Hortman's wedding on Friday evening. Catherine Curtis invited me a couple of weeks ago, and as the end of the month approaches I've been looking more and more forward to going. Returning to Southern Louisiana has renewed my memories of growing up in the state, especially of the years that those girls represent to me. I'm wondering what sort of homegrown travesty may be in store.

Chris wired a speaker from the living room to the kitchen, stretching the length of our shotgun. In light of this development I am bolstering my Alice in Chains collection at the moment. I want Layne Stayley in my scrambled eggs.

Trying to decide on Jazzfest Tickets. I haven't found a proper schedule yet, but they do have the lineup divided by the days so you can decide on which days you want here:
I'm thinking about the second saturday and the second sunday, but I wouldn't want to miss the whole first weekend.

My mind has been moving in circles spiraling to new spheres, like a reverse whirlpool giving space to previously impossible ideas. I am seriously considering spending the next year teaching English in China, leaving as soon as early August. I like the job I have now, and have found a workable "situation," but the thought of staying on in my current capacity doesn't lend itself to any much sustained innovation or development. Living in this old city is for me a half-year of incubation, restoring old relationships and coming to terms with having a new home town. I think I will return to live here again and again. New Orleans has grown roots into my brain.

I'm ready to go back to my fix of left-wing political commentary.
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    burning spear
return of persephone

i'm sprung

Chris and I saw Atmosphere at HOB last night; cool show, I keep forgetting good things can come out of Minn. They are The Source, and we The Destination, as far as the river goes anyway. Just can't figure out the vessel.

It may have been my midnight snack, turkey jambalaya, that played with my head so fiercely last night, but I'm inclined to believe it's the stars. I'm concerned with the implication of ennui on the first day of spring. I have been receiving an assortment of prewaking dreams over the last few days, and if you're reading this, you probably were there in some capacity. These dreamland dramas are playing themselves out in a bastard world blended of the sheridan house and mid city new orleans.

In spite of suspecting that cognition and feeling are often erroneously conflated on the sole basis of temporal synchronicity (sorry Jung), I cannot shake the residual emotions of such dreams. Even after eliminating the biological discomfort of my mid intestine, the aforementioned malaise had taken root, and promises to hang around at least until thursday.

These are the ruminations that have prompted me to begin this journal. As someone who has often been admonished for his certain lack of emotional transparency, to say the least, and laissez-faire attitude towards "keeping in touch," I hope this will put to ease the heart that wonders,

What is 'Said Douchebag' thinking these days?

Well, I am thinking that ShuchDog is right and the time has come to commit myself to something, before Being Committed to a certain institution, and I don't mean marriage.

Upon waking I had B come and be next to me. Later, as I was reading the Brothers Karamazov on the couch, he had a bad dream. For such a fraidy-dog he whimpers quietly. I placed my arm around him and watched his toes twitch and his legs tremble.

music: blind melon b-sides and the velvet underground