Tuesday 12 July 2011

The most important pun in the English language - Christopher Ricks.

Some words on truth

As with  sense, so with lie  the importance of a pun must be in the first place a matter of the enduring and central matters which it encompasses. Lies are important irrespective of any pun that may visit them. For one thing, the telling of the truth is necessary to those social and cultural agreements without which there cannot be a society or a culture. Even the devils know this, for as Sir Thomas Browne said ' so also in \moral verities, although they decieve us,  they lie not unto each other; as well understanding that all community is continued by Truth, and that of Hell cannot exist without it.'  For another thing, telling the truth is a necessary condition for the existence of a language at all. Which is why in the language - indeed, in most of all languages, one may guess - there is no truth verb that is the counterpart to the verb to lie. (And there are, from similar causes or with similar effects, no puns on true and truth that amount to anything.) You cannot truth , a fact which both makes the telling of a truth a less glib matter than lying ('the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth'), and also brings out the speaking has to be posited on a presumption of the speaking of the truth. Even if it were not accepted that words about words all have a special force, though not necessarily a grater force than other words ( for this claim might be merely a literary critic's professional predilection), it is nevertheless the case that lie  has the special potency of immediate paradoxiical properties, since it strikes at the roots of language and may strike, self-incrimiinattingly, at itself. The importance of lying therefore ranges from all those daily falsehoods in the orinary world to such absract but intense considerations  of language, society, and philosophy. In 1970 there was published a book wholly devotted to the paradox of the liar.
Yet the importance of the phenomenem oflying is necessary but not sufficient condition of any claimed importance for the pun on lie and lying. Then there are the linguistic pressures on the word lie  which themselves make the word a creator of pressure. There is, first, a depoulation around lie which gives it the potency of salience. For instance, lie calls up no manifest etymolology for us; as ashort and simple Old English word, it seems - as does the word truth - to be a root concept behind or below which we cannot penetrate. ( The contrast would be with the words veracity  and mendacity  which sends our toughts abroad, in both senses.) Next there is the fact that there are no profound or memorable proverbs about lies or truth, so that the words themselves have to muster all the energy of the phenomena. A comparable depopulation, lending prominence and salience to lie and truth, is that by which a great many lie and truth terms have fallen out of the language, as if by some evolutionary concentration upon the survival of the fittest words. Middle English gab, to lie , survives only in its weakened child, gabble; leasing has gone as has the plural lyings;  the adjective lie ( from Old English  lyze, lying); various tansistive and quasi-transistive uses of to lie (OED 3 and 4 ); and 'to give the lieto' ( accuse of lyiing). You can no longer 'make a lie', you can only tell it; you can now lie only about, not - as you can only tell it; you can now lie only about, not - as you once could - of, on, or upon (OED 1b).
Again, there is the salience given by the marked absence of synonyms for lie; all we have is either ephemeral or infantile slang (bounce, crammer, whopper, fib - to cite Roget's Thesarus ) or eupehemisms: falsehood and untruth, neither of which strictly means lie and both of which therefore can on occasions have the special offence of a euphemism.
.... The final linguistic consideration is one of the many asymmetries between lie and truth,  one which lends to lie ( and to its pun) a range of suggestions which are denied to or disdained by truth. This is the fact that rhymes for truth are few, and only one of them * has much potentiality for discovering or urging insights...
This marked paucity of suggestive rhyming for truth, which lends it a lonely dignity and integrity, contrasts sharply with the manifest and manifold rhymes which crowd upon or from lie: fly ( with its altruism or cowardice), die ( with its moment of truth and its horizantality), I and my ( with their sincerity or insincerity), eye ( with its honesty or shiftiness), and so on.
... It is Shakespear's work which provides the transition from those linguistic considerations which give salience to the  lie/lie pun, to the more largely human considerations which give importance to it. For there is a prima facie likelihood that a pun which is so ubiquiously necessary to the greatest writer inthe language is a very important pun. Shakespear, who needs and wants the words lie, lies, and lying  hundreds of times in his work, has only three times thepunless form lied. We should ask ourselves whether the fretfulness or impatience which we sometimes feel with these puns is to Shakespeare's siscredit or to ours- have we lost, or bebome blinded to, the important considerations that presumably seemed to Shakespeare to raise above triviality such an insistence as this?

                                That, Lye, shall lieso heavy on my Sword,
                                That it shall render Vengeance, and Revenge,
                                Till thou the Lye-giver, and that Lye, do Lye
                                In earth as quiet, as thy Father's Scull.
                                                                         ( Richard 11 !V.i)
... The importance of the llie/lie is that it concentates an exraordinary wide-ranging and profound network of truth testing situations and postures. It brings mendacity up against those situations and postures which constitute thegreat moments or endurances of truth: the child-bed, the love-bed, the bed of sleep and dreams, the sick-bed, the death-bed, the grave....And even perhaps the modern secular counterpart to the confessional's kneeling: the psychiatrist's couch. It conentrates this network, or rather concentrated it, since historical and cultural circumstances are now disintegrating it.             

* The word 'youth'.



Christopher Ricks
Reprinted from:-
'Lies, in The Force of Poetry,
Oxford University Press, 1984.

Monday 11 July 2011

NEWS OF THE WORLD GOOD RIDDANCE, THANK YOU MR MURDOCH, NOW WILL YOU FINALLY **** OFF.

So  it's good riddance to the News of the World. Hip Hip Hooray.
Now Rebecca Wade/Brooks  and her cronies the News International Gang repeatedly threaten that they won't forget those that pusued them. Well what she should realise is that the people will not forget what they - and those like Cameron and Bliar , who have colluded with them - have done to truth and our so called democracy. A democracy that allows a government to win an election because of  a higly manipulated biased press, who line their pockets.


While we still have the focus, while we still have the power, we must do what we can to stand up to Mr Murdoch and make him realise that enough is enough. Public opinion is now firmly against his proposed takeover of Bsky D, with voters finally ( have they been bloody sleeping for the last 30 years or so) to the fact  that Mr Murdoch has way to much power, and influence over U.K publications. We must stop buying his publications and stop watching his satellite T.V.
Finally David Cameron's position himself looks increasinly precarious, as the true scale of his connections to the News of the World phone hacking scandal emerges. Whilst they are tarnished, we must attack, and keep pounding, whilst they are weak , suffering from self-inflicted wounds, we must stand together resisting their failing powers. It is I feel the only way.United we can make them powerless.
In the meantime I'm off for a cold beer.

picture of a smug ******* 
oh and sign this




Thursday 7 July 2011

Neal Sparkes - affirmation ( the process of rituals) / on the corner

  
In London at moment, struck by its immediacy, its snake like charm, but all that glitters is not gold, just look at News International, anyway tonight I wont get drawn on that, the whole business is quite tiring, the whole way the media is, it needs desperate rearranging. The story seems to change every time I look on the computer, I suppose this is the power of the internet. It is nice to see Mr Camerons friends getting desperate, but we must remember their cunning and their deviousness.  liars and manipulators ,well practiced in the art of dark manouvering. It is nice to see the power of the people in this country getting listened too, but remember , where there is wealth, there is arrogance and lots and lots of spin, oh dear I did fall in. Will probably go down to news international on Friday to have a spit or two. Oh dear. 
On a different note an artist I have long admired is Mr Neil Sparkes ,best known for his work with Transglobal Undergound  and the Temple of Sound, curretly performing under his own moniker with the last Tribe. His work draws on a myriad of world sources, and resonates through both literary and cultural worlds. A questioning, reasonable mind   that offers hope, glimpses of positivity,  a fine wordsmith that give another taste to this strange ( but rather beautiful)  city I'm visiting. 
Here are two poems.

affirmation ( the process of rituals)
tell me when
that exchange
aching beautiful
as butterfly wings
slow opening
the best sex
was ever safe
- and i'm not
talking abut condoms

tell me we must
read medical journals
to know we are
dissapearing just as
fast as we're arriving
on the scene
- the ones that
make it that is,
not sucked out
on anonymous tables
early flushed
miscarriage
down the pan

tell me blood's
thicker than water
and the atoms
of the nuclear family
constitute a religious belief
- your creator's
packed his bags
and caught the
last bus to babylon

tell me we're happy
living in rooms
that cannot contain us
when once we slept outdoors
smoking summer leaf
turned on by the heat
of being alive  

tell me what we
know and believe

          tell me the sun
          is dancing on
          the river thames

tell me there's knowing
in doing and deeds
the physical knowledge
of making, of what
your body is capable
-even you'd be surprised

tell me of knowledge in memory
 served by instinct and necessity
in speech and words
the rhythym of hands
the heart beat of drums
and making drums

intiuition is that
known or a belief?
to trust chance and luck
on the back of doing,
certainly you will succeed,
in what?

tell me of the elements
the flesh and blood material
of the spirits that reside in these
their energies and forces tell me
of something ritual and instinctual
that cannot have one name
but to many will
individually be known
these we seek to acknowledge
to draw out
through rituals of music
sex and pictures
          a sacred dance
the process of rituals
does reveal and affirm
that which has been
        and will always be

now tell me we haven't
got anything in common

now tell me we can't
get along  


on the corner

city animal
urban ceature
spine of bass
their rhythm is the thing
chest and lungs
become djembe drums
beating out rhythyms
from the tombs
of our pain
singing the primal blues
sacrificial saxophones
weave threads between
thought and song
sexy as killers
hard as the red lips
of bought lovers
muted trumpets
speaking louder than the whispering
cruel corners of
the street
          on the corner
shopping for dreams
where you can
buy anything
if the price is right
betting shops the ace of spades
sleeping 'til mid-day
rising at dawn
rebuilding the city
in your own likeness
-in your dreams
       on the corner
speeding through the night
on the dance floor of a club
hot coffee in a cup
drank down before
it's gone cold
red wine rain water
pure grain alcohol
riding the main vein up town
catching the nightmare train
all the way home
          on the corner
tripping through a
city of sounds
dread warnings
fear and loathing
enough famine
and lawnessness
to drive us out of our minds
talking tall and still unsure
wanting everything
used to nothing at all
able and feaful
eating ourselves alive
          on the corner
lost in a city of sounds
as vast as the sky
and still, somehow
all up and down the street
the lights shining
from people's eyes
         on the corner

From : -Critical Quarterly
             WORD SOUND POWER
              volume 38, no 4, Winter  1996

Neal Sparkes has seveal collections of poetry available from Hangman Books. 

Tuesday 5 July 2011

Committing Poetry

The documentary film Committing Poetry  in Times of War  tells the story of Bill Nevins, a humanities teacher and youth poetry coach who was suspended and later fired from his teaching job after standing up for a student who wrote a poem critical of the war in Iraq.
Is it not the job of teachers to help people see things in a different way, allowing students to question, challenge and crtically engage. The teachers who I remember fondly, encouraged me to do this.
With the current media under scrutiny, values of thoughtful inquiry, away from schools of conformity, should be more than welcomed.In the case of Bill Nevin's the people rallied round.Inspired by the notion of creativity as a tool of change.
I find it unbelievable that students are not taught to engage with their imagination like this every day. I disagree with a lot of things, luckily for me, I discovered the joys of freedom, the enemies of this are already at the gates. But I still deny fascism a platform, that too is my right.
As for Bill he simply carried on teaching elsewhere and engaged himself in writing his own poems
http://www.committingpoetry.com/

Sunday 3 July 2011

Brian Jones ( 28/2/42 - 3/7/69) His light shines on in some Painted Rainbows


Psychic T.V - Godstar



The pact he made was never ordinary
lucky or mistaken we shall never know,
behaviour fell off the mark
promises failed in stormy weather,
under the influence
out ov time,
nearby magic tearooms
and melodramas,
played under setting suns
rich in chemistry,
indolence raged
as Pan mischieviously led.

'Israel afraid of the truth'



Hopefully the Freedom Flotilla sailing from Greece should soon be on it's way soon.In the meantime we should demand that the Government and the powers in Greece allow this peaceful convoy to sail. They sail as an expression of world citizens involved in non-violent, direct action,confronting ongoing abuses of Palestinian human and political rights.
The way America has colluded with the Greek and Israeli authorities has been shameful.
I believe in hope and also that this siege must be broken.
" Our freedom is incomplete without the freedom of Palestinians" - Nelson Mandela.

Friday 1 July 2011

Theodore Roethke ( 25/5/08 - 1/8/63) - Long Live the weeds.


Long live the weeds that overwhelm
My narrow vegetable realm-
The bitter rock, the barren soil
That force the son of man to toil;
All things unholy, marked by curse,
The ugly of the universe.
The rough, the wicked, and the wild
That keep the spitit undefiled.
With these I match my little wit
And earn the right to stand or sit,
Hope, look, create, or drink and die:
These shape the creature that is I .



Off too London town, cat sitting, opportunity again to reflect, I like doing that.
Time for a little Marx, Miro, Schielle, some driftin, reflecting.... find some reasons to be doubtful.
Emma Goldman reminds me to keep on dancing., carry on believing. 
In the evening find some music,  cross some fences, look at a pretty city, sit awhile, feel the beat underneath my feet. Lights will dazzle, for a while........ 
in the meantime I leave something in the air..
probably be posting sooner than I think....
hope I remember when it's gone.