10-02-2013, 03:39 PM
(10-02-2013, 02:03 PM)bena Wrote: His post makes me feel like I'm back in college. When's the test? Where are my notes? Am I in my underwear?Hey bena...don't crit the crit! Erthona's bite is worse than his bark.

Best,
tectak
(10-02-2013, 01:48 PM)Erthona Wrote: Thomas,Hi Dale,
Quit being so fractal...but I too cast my vote in favor of fractal fronds. If I were going to rail against anything it would be the "fronds" not the fractal. However, I am sure I could write a substantial paper (not that anyone would read it) on the merger of the organic and the inorganic creating a whole that is larger than it's parts (thesis + antithesis = synthesis: see Hegel), and how the sublime is a creation composed of such disparate unions. That is to say, that in doing so one moves from the world of phenomena (cause and effect) into the realm of the noumena (synthetic apriori intuition..see Kant "Critique of Pure Reason"), aka the realm of Being or the sublime.![]()
Dale
I tend to develop Hegel's constructs sub-consciously...superficially, of course, because I could never get into the root analysis mode.
Imagery is always going to be concrete and clay...the one man made and set like rock, the other malleable and transitorily workable...until fired. I tend to work in clay...poetry fires the clay and gives it structure, form and permanence beyond any "reason" inserted by the poet. In other words, like any "art", once it is done it is repeatedly undone by the observers...but as Hegel would argue, the concept is set in concrete and only the poet really knows (or really doesn't) what the hell caused the thought that found the word that made the rhyme that ended the line that metered the verse.
Hegel is to Cant what clay is to concrete. Me? I'm just a humble poet.
Your fractal friend,
tectak
(10-01-2013, 07:23 AM)bena Wrote: OOooo will it be a shotgun wedding? I have one! This sounds like tons of fun, but before committing, you should read my posts about being insane. I'd hate to blind side you.Why would I do that?
love you still,
bena
Do you know something about insanity that I don't?

The poem, bena, the poem. Tell me about the poem.
Best,
tectak

