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Stendhal

Mathematics allows for no hypocrisy and no vagueness.

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Hypocrisy

Hypocrisy

I wanted to sit and write today-but I did not know what to say.
Then a thought came to me. Why don’t I write about hypocrisy?
The hypocrisy of man leaves you to wonder.
Will this country make another blunder?
Will we continue in this Arab war where we are despised/
Will we choose to live a lie?
They say Americans shed their blood for you and me.
We all know its hypocrisy.
Men in uniform no longer fight the world wars.
People who want to hide what they are Moreover, what they say and do is because of me and you. Our service members and women still use our uniforms with pride
It is something that we can’t deny.
I could see it in my mind-the older politician telling the younger one.
“Let the road take its course” we are the trainers and they are the horse.
They will go where we lead them-that is why we are leaders.
The politicians of all nations should hide their heads in shame.
They search for all that they can gain.
They all try to line their pockets
They’ll pull your eyeballs from their sockets.
Then you cannot see all their hidden hypocrisies.
People will believe for a short period
While it weighs on their mind.
They have to tell the politicians that they will not follow
Like sheep to a slaughter so they could make a quarter.
We must tell them that we are tired as can be-living in hypocrisy.

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May not music be described as the mathematics of the sense, mathematics as music of the reason? The musician feels mathematics, the mathematician thinks music: music the dream, mathematics the working life.

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Songs of Education

I. HISTORY

Form 991785, Sub-Section D

The Roman threw us a road, a road,
And sighed and strolled away:
The Saxon gave us a raid, a raid,
A raid that came to stay;
The Dane went west, but the Dane confessed
That he went a bit too far;
And we all became, by another name,
The Imperial race we are.

The Imperial race, the inscrutable race,
The invincible race we are.

Though Sussex hills are bare, are bare,
And Sussex weald is wide,
From Chichester to Chester
Men saw the Norman ride;
He threw his sword in the air and sang
To a sort of a light guitar;
It was all the same, for we all became
The identical nobs we are.

The identical nobs, individual nobs,
Unmistakable nobs we are.

The people lived on the land, the land,
They pottered about and prayed;
They built a cathedral here and there
Or went on a small crusade:
Till the bones of Becket were bundled out
For the fun of a fat White Czar,
And we all became, in spoil and flame,
The intelligent lot we are.

The intelligent lot, the intuitive lot,
The infallible lot we are.

O Warwick woods are green, are green,
But Warwick trees can fall:
And Birmingham grew so big, so big,
And Stratford stayed so small.
Till the hooter howled to the morning lark
That sang to the morning star:
And we all became, in freedom's name,
The fortunate chaps we are.

The fortunate chaps, felicitous chaps,

[...] Read more

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The Delights of Mathematics

It seems a hundred years or more
Since I, with note-book, ink and pen,
In cap and gown, first trod the floor
Which I have often trod since then;
Yet well do I remember when
With fifty other fond fanatics,
I sought delights beyond my ken,
The deep delights of Mathematics.

I knew that two and two made four,
I felt that five times two were ten,
But, as for all profounder lore,
The robin redbreast or the wren,
The sparrow, whether cock or hen,
Knew quite as much about Quadratics,
Was less confused by x and n,
The deep delights of Mathematics.

The Asses' Bridge I passed not o'er,
I floundered in the noisome fen
Which lies behind it and before;
I wandered in the gloomy glen
Where Surds and Factors have their den.
But when I saw the pit of Statics,
I said Good-bye, Farewell, Amen!
The deep delights of Mathematics.

O Bejants! blessed, beardless men,
Who strive with Euclid in your attics,
For worlds I would not taste again
The deep delights of Mathematics.

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VIII. Dominus Hyacinthus de Archangelis, Pauperum Procurator

Ah, my Giacinto, he's no ruddy rogue,
Is not Cinone? What, to-day we're eight?
Seven and one's eight, I hope, old curly-pate!
—Branches me out his verb-tree on the slate,
Amo-as-avi-atum-are-ans,
Up to -aturus, person, tense, and mood,
Quies me cum subjunctivo (I could cry)
And chews Corderius with his morning crust!
Look eight years onward, and he's perched, he's perched
Dapper and deft on stool beside this chair,
Cinozzo, Cinoncello, who but he?
—Trying his milk-teeth on some crusty case
Like this, papa shall triturate full soon
To smooth Papinianian pulp!

It trots
Already through my head, though noon be now,
Does supper-time and what belongs to eve.
Dispose, O Don, o' the day, first work then play!
—The proverb bids. And "then" means, won't we hold
Our little yearly lovesome frolic feast,
Cinuolo's birth-night, Cinicello's own,
That makes gruff January grin perforce!
For too contagious grows the mirth, the warmth
Escaping from so many hearts at once—
When the good wife, buxom and bonny yet,
Jokes the hale grandsire,—such are just the sort
To go off suddenly,—he who hides the key
O' the box beneath his pillow every night,—
Which box may hold a parchment (someone thinks)
Will show a scribbled something like a name
"Cinino, Ciniccino," near the end,
"To whom I give and I bequeath my lands,
"Estates, tenements, hereditaments,
"When I decease as honest grandsire ought."
Wherefore—yet this one time again perhaps—
Shan't my Orvieto fuddle his old nose!
Then, uncles, one or the other, well i' the world,
May—drop in, merely?—trudge through rain and wind,
Rather! The smell-feasts rouse them at the hint
There's cookery in a certain dwelling-place!
Gossips, too, each with keepsake in his poke,
Will pick the way, thrid lane by lantern-light,
And so find door, put galligaskin off
At entry of a decent domicile
Cornered in snug Condotti,—all for love,
All to crush cup with Cinucciatolo!

Well,
Let others climb the heights o' the court, the camp!

[...] Read more

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No Limit

Written by: neil diamond and richard bennett
Somethings gotta be known
Some dont need to be said
Which way were gonna go
Staying homes just making me mad
Me, I gotta get out
Me, I got a few rights
Dont need to worry or doubt
cause Im gonna be rocking tonight
Get on board
Check it out
Look around,
Aint no limit to what love allows
You and me
Let it be
Be just fine
No limit to it anytime
Me, Im telling the truth
Saying it right in the crowd
Any chance with you
Hey you know Im gonna be around
Get on board
Check it out
Look around,
Aint no limit to what love allows
If we dont make it
We dont make it
I wont cry
Well, Ive been thinking
And I know one thing
Were never gonna make it
If we dont try
Me, Im feeling good
Aint no fooling around
Ive been misunderstood
But I know what Im talking about
Get on board
Check it out
Look around,
Aint no limit to what love allows
You and me
Got to fly
Set it free
No limit if you just know how
Aint no limit to what love allows

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G.K. Chesterton

The Higher Mathematics

Twice one is two,
Twice two is four,
But twice two is ninety-six if you know the way to score.
Half of two is one,
Half of four is two,
But half of four is forty per cent. if your name is Montagu:
For everything else is on the square
If done by the best quadratics;
And nothing is low in High Finance
Or the Higher Mathematics.

A straight line is straight
And a square mile is flat:
But you learn in trigonometrics a trick worth two of that.
Two straight lines
Can't enclose a Space,
But they can enclose a Corner to support the Chosen Race:
For you never know what Dynamics do
With the lower truths of Statics;
And half of two is a touring car
In the Higher Mathematics.

There is a place apart
Beyond the solar ray,
Where parallel straight lines can meet in an unofficial way.
There is a room that holds
The examiner or his clerks,
Where you can square the circle or the man that gives the marks.
Where you hide in the cellar and then look down
On the poets that live in the attics;
For the whole of the house is upside down
In the Higher Mathematics.

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Mathematics is the most powerful tool that people have developed to investigate the world around us. But it is taught so that students do not realize this. The language of mathematics is able to describe objects, structures, properties and relationships in an unambiguous way. In this context we talk about the power of the "descriptive" of mathematics. In this way, people were able to formulate and express such assertions accurate and unambiguous knowledge.

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When My Mathematics Teacher Died...

When he died, I felt no pain
Anywhere in my heart at any point of a second,
Our Mathematics teacher was a terror, you don`t know.
He was an odd man of wrong proportions.

When he was born no comets were seen.
Still he weilded the wand of power, a big rod
And tortured the young skins, I remember still.
He was like a Briton on the Indian land.

Mathematics was like a running stream in the section next.
And there our equals had a great Master with wits.
They enjoyed the lines, the triangles and the numbers.
They were little lambs and he the shepherd resurrected.

We were literaly like circus animals
Under him we were covering ever.
Even the gentle girl who scored well grudged him.
We were the Jews and he Hitler the second.

I don`t know much of Mathematics
I kept my head down when I heard about his death.
A strange fear was beginning to grip me
Will he wait for us with his rod in the other world too?

But someone whispered in to my ears
That he would be waiting to hug us there...
A strange wish remains to be fulfilled-
I should love him somewhere once.

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Sailing in Sinbad's Uncharted Sea

Probing the stars and the cosmos
With science, poetry and art
We expand constantly further and farther,
Exploring the shores of the unplumbed.

We are space travelers
in an endless imaginary universe and
in many ways our journeys are not unlike
the fantastic voyages of Sinbad the Sailor
throughout the enchanted Seven Seas.

Sailing the stormy oceans
of the boundless unknown
we travel in brassy ships loaded
with the heavy cargoes of refined words,
elegant forms and amorphous ideas.

Yet even the most precise tool
in our arsenal, Mathematics,
turns to be a social construct:
An invented world.
After all, numbers don't grow on trees.

As it turns out, the correlation
between mathematics and nature
does not have a secure base.
The arithmetic anchor can not hold
the boat of the infinite.

Nevertheless, the human mind
is a fascinating macrocosm.
It mirrors the creative forces
of the physical world,
of which we are an integral part.

And so, in the final analysis,
Mathematics, science and art
are all invented worlds,
creative semiotic ventures.

We live in a metaphoric universe.
We perceive, envision, structure
and interpret reality by ways of symbols.

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Grigore Moisil

Mathematics is the future Latin language, mandatory for all scientists, just because mathematics allows maximum acceleration of scientific circulation.

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Kahlo-Christ Conjunctions - Sacrificed Flesh, Broken Bread, Emmaus Vision

[The curious or, better, interested reader may view the images alluded to in this essay at this website: http: //falconwarren.blogspot.com/2011/01/kahlo-christ- conjunctions-sacrificed.html]


Kahlo Strophes


As with love, also the bellows.

Calavera*, the Future stands
hand to mouth, fingers to forehead
unfolding before still instatic shapes.
Hold desperately to frames before
these quaking perceptions.


She could not stop there,
had to flare out, dry paint,
and the dryer flesh peel down
to bone, a sexless esqueleto**,
skull no longer mustached,
a calavera, nothing more,
curved calcium reliant forever
upon canvas, what is congealed
there to fan and burn,
a 'cauda pavonis'***.

- the author, from the text below

*Skull
**Skeleton
***Peacock's Tail (an image in alchemy) .


'Poetry such as this attempts not just a new syntax of the word. Its revolution is aimed at the syntax of the mind itself. Its structuring of experience is purposive, not dreamlike. We are dealing with a self-induced, or naturally or mysteriously come by, creative state from which two of the most fundamental human activities diverge, the aesthetic and the mystic act. The creative matrix is the same in both, and it is that state of being that is most peculiarly and characteristically human, as the resulting aesthetic and mystic experience is the purist form of human act. There is a great deal of overlapping, today especially, when art is all the religion most people have and when they demand of it experiences that few people of the past demanded of religion....A visionary poem is not a vision. The religious experience is necessitated and ultimate.' - Kenneth Rexroth, World Outside the Window, the Selected Essays of Kenneth Rexroth, pg.255-256

Rexroth's words are pertinent to the images used in this essay, Kahlo's painting above is visionary, Grunewald's are religious, and several photos are both, and all are 'aimed at the syntax of the mind itself.. Its restructuring of experience is purposive, not dreamlike.' The images included in this essay, which is more a prose poem than regular prose, are meant to convey equally or more, at least as as much as, the words in their incantatory formations which may induce entrance into 'imaginal' spaces where word and image meet in a practical magic, inspire a felt understanding and perhaps gain a view or actual entrance into what ecstatic poet, Rainer Maria Rilke, calls 'the Greater Relation.'

I've decided to publish this piece-in-progress as it unwinds in spirals 'aimed at the syntax of the mind itself...its restructuring of experience' with the understanding that it may later appear in greatly altered form. In a real sense this writing writes itself; I try to heed, copy, then hone to the bone what might be wanting to be sung, for what is below, and often what I write, is more akin to music, a vocal/verbal lilt beyond a particular solid tilt of view of a world absolute, static logos.

Heraclitus noted thousands of years ago, 'All is flux.'

To this I would only add, and perhaps this is what all of my writing amounts to,

'All is reflux.'

Selah. WF

NYC,1/31/11

[...] Read more

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A myth about the origin of evil

And satan said:
‘Let there be a lie! ’
And there was a lie.
It hid in the stones
Sliding from above.

And satan said:
‘Let there be hypocrisy! ’
And there was hypocrisy.
It hid in the words
Waiting to speak up.
It covered itself with cobwebs
Spiders to feed.
It hid itself from itself.

And satan said:
‘Let there be poison! ’
And there was poison.
The devils waving their swords
Spilled it from a stormy breath.
It layered on the earth
To run with its currents.
It hid within the blood.

And satan said:
‘Let there be hatred! ’
And there was hatred.
It spilled all around
Like blood that cannot clot.
It walked in tigers’ paws
And hid itself in the end
Under the cold mossy north.

And satan said:
‘Let there be a human! ’
And there was a human.
He hid in the hypocrisy and lie
The poison of hatred fed him like milk.
A pirate wrapped in his sails.
And there was a human
In beasts he hid.

And satan said:
‘Let him think I am not! ’
But it was not the way he said.
There was a lie in the beginning of his word.

Written in 1989 reconstructed in 2012.

©Miroslava Odalovic

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Fake People

All the time
I look in your eyes
But what I see
And what you say to me
Are two totally different things
You pretend you put on a façade
I only wish you knew that I'm not
The only one who sees it as odd
Fake people
The things they do are oh so evil
Because of their own insecurities
They try to pass on to you their idiosyncrasies
Thinking they are your friends you let them into your lives
But then they turn around and about you tell nothing but lies
Jealousy is such an ugly thing
Almost as ugly as hypocrisy
Fake people
The things they do are oh so evil
Fake people
Fake people
So now I must ask who are your friends
Are they really what they seem to be
Or are they just trying to hide from you their envy
Do your friends really have your back
Or is it that that's where by them you've been stabbed
I once had a friend
One I thought would be there for me till the end
Then one day my happiness ended and theirs began
And when I needed someone to lean on
Behind me did no one stand
Fake people
The things they do are oh so evil
Because of their own insecurities
They try to pass on to you their idiosyncrasies
Thinking they are your friends you let them into your lives
But then they turn around and about you tell nothing but lies
Jealousy is such an ugly thing
Almost as ugly as hypocrisy
Fake people
The things they do are oh so evil
Fake people
Fake people
Be careful who you let know your business
'Cause in the end
Rumors about you they could be spreadin'
Don't put your trust in people who don't trust you
There's no telling what they're liable to say or do
Grow smarter with each experience
And you'll see true friends
Are the friends who are their with and for you till the end

[...] Read more

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Samuel Butler

Hudibras: Part 3 - Canto I

THE ARGUMENT

The Knight and Squire resolve, at once,
The one the other to renounce.
They both approach the Lady's Bower;
The Squire t'inform, the Knight to woo her.
She treats them with a Masquerade,
By Furies and Hobgoblins made;
From which the Squire conveys the Knight,
And steals him from himself, by Night.

'Tis true, no lover has that pow'r
T' enforce a desperate amour,
As he that has two strings t' his bow,
And burns for love and money too;
For then he's brave and resolute,
Disdains to render in his suit,
Has all his flames and raptures double,
And hangs or drowns with half the trouble,
While those who sillily pursue,
The simple, downright way, and true,
Make as unlucky applications,
And steer against the stream their passions.
Some forge their mistresses of stars,
And when the ladies prove averse,
And more untoward to be won
Than by CALIGULA the Moon,
Cry out upon the stars, for doing
Ill offices to cross their wooing;
When only by themselves they're hindred,
For trusting those they made her kindred;
And still, the harsher and hide-bounder
The damsels prove, become the fonder.
For what mad lover ever dy'd
To gain a soft and gentle bride?
Or for a lady tender-hearted,
In purling streams or hemp departed?
Leap'd headlong int' Elysium,
Through th' windows of a dazzling room?
But for some cross, ill-natur'd dame,
The am'rous fly burnt in his flame.
This to the Knight could be no news,
With all mankind so much in use;
Who therefore took the wiser course,
To make the most of his amours,
Resolv'd to try all sorts of ways,
As follows in due time and place

No sooner was the bloody fight,
Between the Wizard, and the Knight,

[...] Read more

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Anchorless and Engulfed

Two who each other barely knew -
though both drew down delinquency
some streets apart, are past, and few
shall etch sketch wretched memory.
Two travelled on lines parallel
while wheeled real reel of history,
banned reel ran out span's tocsin bell
tolled once to tell eternity

‘Bonjour, ma mie, je t'aime, adieu! '
The mocking bird of Destiny
nests but a moment. All falls through
before each earth-bound entity
grasp pain's pain glass a second, spell
life's sensitivity to see
things in perspective ere Death's knell
engulfs hopes in Styx misery.

Confined upon Earth's ark our zoo
builds up its bars too readily.
Why all the fuss and bother to
paint rosy hues enticingly
when threescore ten years pass pell-mell,
too few attain vain century,
and those that do weak souls would sell
for one more week's dichotomy.

Upon Life's cruise a motley crew
free choice demands, yet few feel free,
awash with superstitious spew,
how few refuse to bend the knee?
The ‘finger writes' and then farewell!
A door to which there is no key
was ever veiled when curtains fell,
'and then no more of thee and me.'

'Time out! ' Reflection's hard to chew
in context where modernity
accelerates change [st]range most rue,
soon redefines autonomy,
confines empowerment to brew
disinformation debility,
losing second thoughts' review
of truth till last breath's verity
renders verdict curlicue
on humankind's inanity.

Climate out of kilter new
climactic catastrophe
prepares, ice-melt sends shockwaves through

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You Should Be Teaching

What can be done,
About the failures taking place...
In a system that allows,
A disgrace of education?
With decaying schools teaching methods,
Archaic in presentation?

'Close them.
Just close them all down.
Until an admission of pretentions,
Has been faced without debate.
Why support mediocrity?
When that has been degraded.'

What can be done,
About the failures taking place...
In a system that allows,
A disgrace of education?

'Put a bulldozer to them quick.
Save the taxpayers dollars.
Since truth no one admits.

These institutions,
That put up with a lack of discipline.
With hallways crusted,
As disrespecting loud mouth children...
Are pampered and snuggled,
And tolerated as victims.
When victimization for them is 'in'.
Should be locked out and boot camped.

And made to bloom as rising stars.
Not weeds to be swept away in gutters! '

What can be done,
About the failures taking place...
In a system that allows,
A disgrace of education?

'That depends!
How do these scenes reflect the society?
And how can the people not see them...
Observe this,
Yet defend? '

Hey...
There are still people hooked on celebrating,
Holidays and histories created.
How can you break minds away from that?

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Love Transcends Time

Wonder do I if you know of what you speak,
You speak of love as though you have captured its essence!
Asked me you did if I really did love you as you do me,
I know, as none has ever before of love's effervescence!

Love has many forms and many more a use,
Love is the understanding I feel now for you in my heart!
Love transcends time, holds all together, even when apart,
Love allows for us to do the impossible, if we so choose!

True love conquers all impediments, no matter how great,
It allows us strength where, without it we have none,
Love, as I feel in my heart, knows all before anything has begun,
It moves mountains, settles quarrels, allows us to tempt fate!

Love is life's most powerful of emotions- of this I am sure!
Life doth contain no ailment that love's elixir may not cure!

Maurice Harris,8 February 2008

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A Map Of Culture

Culture


Contents

What is Culture?

The Importance of Culture

Culture Varies

Culture is Critical

The Sociobiology Debate

Values, Norms, and Social Control

Signs and Symbols

Language

Terms and Definitions

Approaches to the Study of Culture

Are We Prisoners of Our Culture?



What is Culture?


I prefer the definition used by Ian Robertson: 'all the shared products of society: material and nonmaterial' (Our text defines it in somewhat more ponderous terms- 'The totality of learned, socially transmitted behavior. It includes ideas, values, and customs (as well as the sailboats, comic books, and birth control devices) of groups of people' (p.32) .

Back to Contents

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The Need for Touch

To touch and be touched is perhaps the most human thing we do.
It can provoke many emotions.
Those who have been hurt, fear it; and want to run away.
Run away from the terror, the abuse, the roughness.
In running away, we feel safe.
Safe from being hurt again... Safe from feeling... But oh so alone...
We have lost trust... the trust we had as a child.

Each time we are hurt, it becomes harder to trust in another.
Trusting that, in reaching out, we won't be hurt again.
But without trust, there can be no peace..
If there is no peace, there will always be a longing. Something missing...
In peace, we can be alone if we wish or

We can reach out and soak in the goodness of touching
and being touched by another. Both are good.

When we can trust in another:
Their touch calms us... soothes us... quiets our fears.
While being nursed, a baby caresses its mother while she nurtures him.
A father's cuddle is returned with contentment and joy.
That bond of trust, born from gentle touch, allows each to be at peace.
It allows each to gather strength from the other.

Some find that animals fill their need to touch. A dog's trust is unconditional.
It will follow you where ever you go and protect you with it's life.
All it wants in return is your touch, your affection.. Your caress.

A caress is a special kind of touch.. It is born of love and mutual trust.
A trust that allows us to stand on our own, even when the other isn't there.
Trusting that, if we call, the other will respond. Without fear...
Without questioning... Simply because we called.. A friend.

In quietly caressing and being caressed we gain strength.
nothing calms faster...
the child in all of us.
the need in all of us..
The human in all of us.
It is good to trust.

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