alt.education

In article <1kgus3drd9n8u084ijdivasu8kdkjrg9si@4ax.com> jaezaebael@gmail.com writes:
> On Thu, 6 Mar 2008 00:37:40 +0000 (UTC), cary@afone.as.arizona.edu
> (Cary Kittrell) wrote:
>
> >Whoa!
>
> I knew that shaving thing would creep you out.
>
> >And to think that Ken can't tell you and me apart...
>
> Oh, he can, he's probably got self-published bookmarks colour-coded
> for everyone. Pantone days and nights, babee.
>
> >It must be true, then:
> >
> > Go, go, go, said the bird: human kind
> > Cannot bear very much reality.
> >
> > T.S. Eliot, "Burnt Norton"
>
> I'm so, so glad he didn't write about dogs.

The only thing that saved you is that "Old Possum", as
he called himself in correspondance with Ezra Pound
(Pound was "Rabbit")...where was I?...oh yeah,
Eliot's next foray after "Cats" was "Old Possum's Book
of Practical Possums", but as you can well imagine,
you can fill up a page or two with Pogo, but
then after that... well, there you are.

He tried starting again, this time with "Old Possum's
Book of Impractical Possums", but after a few futile
pages declared the new effort to be "afflicted
with an incurable intellectual dishonesty" [1],
threw it over as a bad job, and took to wandering
the streets of London late at night, humming to
himself and threatening the street walkers with a
fully loaded zither.

But then you knew that.


>
> FNC, baring too much reality

Yum.


-- cary



[1] a line he stole, of course, from Auden, who many
years after he wrote "September 1, 1939", took
another look at:

Hunger allows no choice
To the citizen or the police;
We must love one another or die.


decided that was a lie, changed it to:

Hunger allows no choice
To the citizen or the police;
We must love one another and die.


then despaired, and disowned the enter poem,
declaring it "afflicted with an incurable intellectual
dishonesty".

(but then you knew that)