some uncomfortable thoughts that might highlight the often hopeless muddlement of me:
1) I have an almost pathological hatred of Bush--why I dislike & distrust him is understandable to me--but hatred is something else. I don't hate people, I hate concepts & ideas & motivations--abstract things (many, if not all, present in me), but there is something about him, & to a somewhat lesser extent his father & the ghoulish Doanld Rumsfeld, that makes me hate.(I can't even bring myself to hate Saddam Hussein even after what I've been told of all the blood on his hands & the pain he's inflicted. they both seem to represent the slimy wallows a person can inhabit at the heights of power--but it is Bush that I find the more reppellent.) he speaks my language (well, kinda).
if I would have to state something specific, I would have to say it's his christianity. not because I have anything against Christians or Christianity (quite the opposite) it's just that I've seen so few. he seems to represent the tribe of christians who wear a jewelled cross emblazoned on their chest but it doesn't go any deeper than that. that has read over & over & over the passages in the bible about not just having compassion for the poor but embracing poverty & simplicity while stepping over the dying on his way to a board meeting. that weeps over the crucifixion but feels his heart swelling with righteousness at executions, at the thought of them, at the continuation of them.
that worships a christ that gave in to all three Temptations.
that prays for victory in war.
2. I'm against this war, but I'm not anti-war. I'm only being partway facetious when I say "What are a few fewer Humans? " given our suicidal forward drive to destroy ourselves & our habitat--not to mention the fact that we've had the capability to destroy all life for a few of our teeny little generations now. I consider myself something of a student of literature, & by extension history, psychology, sociology, & a wriggling nest of other concerns, & it is fairly obvious at even a surface level that the things that we most condemn--murder, rape, torture, war, etc.,--persist because they are an inalterable part of what we are. it's what we do. it defines us. (us,we=humans, altho it seems the lions share of actually bringing these things to be--flesh against flesh, & now computer-controlled metal & explosives against flesh--falls to the male of the species, but the fact that all these murderers, torturers & warmongers survive generation after generation--& not always by rape, suggests some measure of complicity from the female). yes, inalterable. remove these things & remove the humanity.
-----
this is turning into some half-assed Freshman Creative Writing First-Draft--maybe I'll be able to bring a bit of clarity to the table after I've gotten some sleep
1) I have an almost pathological hatred of Bush--why I dislike & distrust him is understandable to me--but hatred is something else. I don't hate people, I hate concepts & ideas & motivations--abstract things (many, if not all, present in me), but there is something about him, & to a somewhat lesser extent his father & the ghoulish Doanld Rumsfeld, that makes me hate.(I can't even bring myself to hate Saddam Hussein even after what I've been told of all the blood on his hands & the pain he's inflicted. they both seem to represent the slimy wallows a person can inhabit at the heights of power--but it is Bush that I find the more reppellent.) he speaks my language (well, kinda).
if I would have to state something specific, I would have to say it's his christianity. not because I have anything against Christians or Christianity (quite the opposite) it's just that I've seen so few. he seems to represent the tribe of christians who wear a jewelled cross emblazoned on their chest but it doesn't go any deeper than that. that has read over & over & over the passages in the bible about not just having compassion for the poor but embracing poverty & simplicity while stepping over the dying on his way to a board meeting. that weeps over the crucifixion but feels his heart swelling with righteousness at executions, at the thought of them, at the continuation of them.
that worships a christ that gave in to all three Temptations.
that prays for victory in war.
2. I'm against this war, but I'm not anti-war. I'm only being partway facetious when I say "What are a few fewer Humans? " given our suicidal forward drive to destroy ourselves & our habitat--not to mention the fact that we've had the capability to destroy all life for a few of our teeny little generations now. I consider myself something of a student of literature, & by extension history, psychology, sociology, & a wriggling nest of other concerns, & it is fairly obvious at even a surface level that the things that we most condemn--murder, rape, torture, war, etc.,--persist because they are an inalterable part of what we are. it's what we do. it defines us. (us,we=humans, altho it seems the lions share of actually bringing these things to be--flesh against flesh, & now computer-controlled metal & explosives against flesh--falls to the male of the species, but the fact that all these murderers, torturers & warmongers survive generation after generation--& not always by rape, suggests some measure of complicity from the female). yes, inalterable. remove these things & remove the humanity.
-----
this is turning into some half-assed Freshman Creative Writing First-Draft--maybe I'll be able to bring a bit of clarity to the table after I've gotten some sleep
An idea crossed my mind while reading your post: what kind of stuff could come out ot this translating device of yours, if it was feeded with XVIth century french, that's sometimes orthographed very differently from now?
Let's have a test.
Mon Dieu, les hommes meurent-ils pas bien d'eux-mesmes, mon cher Lecteur, sans qu'il faille corner la Guerre, et qu'ils s'entre-massacrent les uns les autres ainsi barbarement ? Quel spectacle de voir une campagne couverte d'hommes tous armez jusqu'aux dents, en peu d'heures s'entre-coupper la gorge, faire bouillonner des torrens de sang humain et dans la campagne rase eslever des montagnes de corps morts, et jetter tout cela la voirie et dans le ventre de loups et de bestes sauvages ?
Cependant c'est tous les jours qu'on void les gens acharnez ceste tuerie, et sans cela le monde ne seroit pas monde : il fallut, pour monter au thrne de l'Empire, que Cesar marcht sur le ventre d'un million et cent mille personnes de pauvres gens escrasez la Guerre, dont le sang estoit capable d'abysmer la ville de Rome. Cruelle boucherie !
Or quand j'auray bien cri, certes il n'en sera autre chose, et tant que le monde sera monde, je le vois bien, il y faut de la Guerre, et cela est un: faire le faut.
Ce fut sans doute un Dmon (mon cher Lecteur) et un des plus mal-faisans, celuy qui inspira ce mal-heureux homme qui le premier inventa l'Artillerie, et le moyen de tuer tout un peuple d'un seul coup de tonnerre.
Helas ! la mort venoit-elle pas assez vite nous couper la gorge trestous,
sans luy donner des ailes, empennant les sagettes homicides, afin qu'elle volt pour nous outrepercer les curs ?
Que diroit icy Pline, qui fit jadis si grand vacarme, qui jetta tant et tant de si haut cris, maudissant celuy qui avoit attach des plumes aux dards des javelots, pour redoubler la course de ces pointes meurtrieres ?
Ah Dieu, en combien de faons la felonnie barbare des hommes tres-cruels,
a-t-elle faonn le fer pour massacrer les hommes ?
Espieux, halebardes, lances, piques, espes, espadons, espes deux mains, cimeterres, espes de combat, espes de service, malchus, et coutelas, d'estoc, et de fendant; estramassons horribles, de trempe de Damas coupant l'acier et les charrettes ferres; dagues, poignards, stillets, demy-espes, et dix mille faons de cousteaux homicides, haches et couperets, braquemarts tous sanglants.
Las ! tout cela n'est rien qu'un leger apprentissage de la niaise antiquit, car maintenant on va bien plus vite aux meurtres, et au carnage ; le feu du Ciel tant effroyable, et les quarreaux des nues et de Dieu ne sont plus rien, si vous contez les bastons feu qui ravagent le monde :
pistolets simples et doubles, pistoles, carabines, arquebuses, mousquets gros et petits, petards, pots et grenades, fauconneaux, pieces de campagne, coulevrines, dragons, berches, petriers, canons gros et petits (renforcez, redoublez, endiablez vray dire), artillerie de fonte, de bois, de terre, de mer, bouches denfer qui vomissent du souphre, des cailloux, des boules de fer, des chaines, des foudres, des morts, des enfers, bouleversant les villes, saccageant les peuples, renversant les armes entieres, et d'un seul coup donnant plusieurs morts, et d'une verte campagne faisant une mer rouge, et un cimetiere couvert d'os et de corps vifs et morts tout ensemble, representant sur terre les bourreleries d'Enfer.
Mon Dieu, quel march d'hommes, et de la vie des hommes !
Amy lecteur, j'aimerois mieux t'aider enclouer toute l'artillerie du monde, et en esteindre la memoire que de t'apprendre en parler.
Mais puisque cela ne se peut, au moins je te veux aider quand il les faudra maudire, et les detester afin que tu saches par quel bout il faut t'y prendre, et en quels termes il en faudra parler.
Etienne Binet Essay des merveilles de nature, et plus nobles artifices , 1621
Edited for punctuation!
[Edited on Mar 25, 2003]
[Edited on Mar 25, 2003]