Wednesday 30 May 2012

EUPHONY, HARMONY... AFFIRMATION



I Will compose music...

UNBOUND: THE HIGHER BOND





Bedecke deinen Himmel, Zeus,
Mit Wolkendunst
Und übe, dem Knaben gleich,
Der Disteln köpft,
An Eichen dich und Bergeshöhn;
Mußt mir meine Erde
Doch lassen stehn
Und meine Hütte, die du nicht gebaut,
Und meinen Herd,
Um dessen Glut
Du mich beneidest.

Ich kenne nichts Ärmeres
Unter der Sonn als euch, Götter!
Ihr nähret kümmerlich
Von Opfersteuern
Und Gebetshauch
Eure Majestät
Und darbtet, wären
Nicht Kinder und Bettler
Hoffnungsvolle Toren.

Da ich ein Kind war,
Nicht wußte, wo aus noch ein,
Kehrt ich mein verirrtes Auge
Zur Sonne, als wenn drüber wär
Ein Ohr, zu hören meine Klage,
Ein Herz wie meins,
Sich des Bedrängten zu erbarmen.

Wer half mir
Wider der Titanen Übermut?
Wer rettete vom Tode mich,
Von Sklaverei?
Hast du nicht alles selbst vollendet,
Heilig glühend Herz?
Und glühtest jung und gut,
Betrogen, Rettungsdank
Dem Schlafenden da droben?

Ich dich ehren? Wofür?
Hast du die Schmerzen gelindert
Je des Beladenen?
Hast du die Tränen gestillet
Je des Geängsteten?
Hat nicht mich zum Manne geschmiedet
Die allmächtige Zeit
Und das ewige Schicksal,
Meine Herrn und deine?

Wähntest du etwa,
Ich sollte das Leben hassen,
In Wüsten fliehen,
Weil nicht alle
Blütenträume reiften?

Hier sitz ich, forme Menschen
Nach meinem Bilde,
Ein Geschlecht, das mir gleich sei,
Zu leiden, zu weinen,
Zu genießen und zu freuen sich,
Und dein nicht zu achten,
Wie ich!
(ca. 1789)




Shroud your heaven, Zeus,
With cloudy vapours,
And do as you will, like the boy
That beheads thistles,
With oak-trees and mountain-tops;
You must my Earth
Now abandon to me,
And my hut, which you did not build,
And my hearth,
Whose glow
You begrudge me.

I know of nothing poorer
Under the sun, than you, Gods!
You are barely nourished
By sacrificial offerings
And prayerful exhalations
Your Majesty
And would starve, were
Not children and beggars
Hopeful fools.

When I was a child,
And did not know the in or out,
I turned my wandering eyes toward
The sun, as if beyond it there were
An ear to hear my lament,
A heart like mine,
To take pity on the afflicted.

Who helped me
Against the Titans' mischief?
Who delivered me from Death,
From Slavery?
Did you not accomplish it all yourself,
Holy, burning Heart?
And glowed, young and good,
Deceived, your thanks for salvation
To the sleeping one above?

I should honour you? For what?
Have you softened the sufferings,
Ever, of the burdened?
Have you stilled the tears,
Ever, of the anguished?
Was I not forged as a Man
By almighty Time
And the eternal Fate,
My masters and yours?

Do you somehow imagine
I should hate life,
Flee to the desert,
Because not every
Flowering dream may bloom?

Here I sit, forming people
In my image;
A race, to be like me,
To suffer, to weep,
To enjoy and delight themselves,
And to mock you –
As I do!


Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe

'FIRING BACK': FAILURE (AND RETURN) IN POINT-FORM



(A Paraphrase of Sonnenfeld and Ward, HBR)




KEY TAKE-AWAY

FAILURE: DIG IT!!!!





* From Fired to Firing-On-All-Cylinders..

*Cf Dimon at Citigroup. Cf Dimon Now..

Joseph Campbell and the 'Hero Myth': Decide how to fight back.



Failure is a beginning not an end.

Cf 'In the end is my beginning' - T S Elliot, cited in Fog of War by Robert McNamara.

('If you don't know how many mistakes I've made, I'm not going to tell you'!)



'Uncommon honesty, respect and trust'

When in Rome, do as the Romans (would like to) Do..

Honestas, Fortitudinem, dignitas, caritas

Brahms' motto: ASPER PER ASTRA



Translate 'Frei Aber Froh' into 'Capacity for Affiliation'

And REJUVENATION, TRANSFORMATION, SUPEREROGATION...



Recruit others

And - Watch OTHERS Win...



All that Energy saved for a comeback.

Clausewitz' organisational LEVEE EN MASSE...



The Overcoming...



FINIS






DEFIANCE=REMANUFACTURING

I'VE GOT NO MORE GODDAM REGRETS!!! Fear Factory, Demanufacture

Sunday 27 May 2012

'SHE EYES ME LIKE A PISCES': LOCKED INSIDE YOUR HEART-SHAPED BOX (OUT OF OCCULTATION)...



Omnia Vincit Amor

love. liberty. release



- - - - -



Her ghost in the FOG !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
!!!!!!

Sunday 20 May 2012

ECCE HOMO



But Mary stood weeping outside the tomb, and as she wept she stooped to look into the tomb; 12: and she saw two angels in white, sitting where the body of Jesus had lain, one at the head and one at the feet. 13: They said to her, "Woman, why are you weeping?" She said to them, "Because they have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid him." 14: Saying this, she turned round and saw Jesus standing, but she did not know that it was Jesus. 15: Jesus said to her, "Woman, why are you weeping? Whom do you seek?" Supposing him to be the gardener, she said to him, "Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away." 16: Jesus said to her, "Mary." She turned and said to him in Hebrew, "Rab-bo'ni!" (which means Teacher). 17: Jesus said to her, "Do not hold me, for I have not yet ascended to the Father; but go to my brethren and say to them, I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God."

SMELLS LIKE TEEM SPIRIT (SONG FOR FIDELIO)



I can't be near to you, the light just radiates.. Courtney Love

Stepping through my shadow, coming out the other side - Tool, Aenima



'Gott, Welch Dunkel Hier' vs 'Mir ist so wunderbar ("A wondrous feeling fills me")


WHY??? THE ANGEL OF HISTORY NEVER STOPS FOR BREATH




'Art does not reproduce the visible; rather, it makes visible' - Paul Klee


'A Klee drawing named “Angelus Novus” shows an angel looking as though he is about to move away from something he is fixedly contemplating.  His eyes are staring, his mouth is open, his wings are spread.  This is how one pictures the angel of history.  His face is turned toward the past.  Where we perceive a chain of events, he sees one single catastrophe that keeps piling ruin upon ruin and hurls it in front of his feet.  The angel would like to stay, awaken the dead, and make whole what has been smashed.  But a storm is blowing from Paradise; it has got caught in his wings with such violence that the angel can no longer close them.  The storm irresistibly propels him into the future to which his back is turned, while the pile of debris before him grows skyward. This storm is what we call progress'.                                                         

- Walter Benjamin,
  Ninth Thesis on the Philosophy of History