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We're horribly mundane, aggressively mundane individuals. We're the ninjas of the mundane, you might say.

quote by Andy Partridge
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As I Sat Alone By Blue Ontario's Shores

AS I sat alone, by blue Ontario's shore,
As I mused of these mighty days, and of peace return'd, and the dead
that return no more,
A Phantom, gigantic, superb, with stern visage, accosted me;
Chant me the poem, it said, that comes from the soul of America--
chant me the carol of victory;
And strike up the marches of Libertad--marches more powerful yet;
And sing me before you go, the song of the throes of Democracy.

(Democracy--the destin'd conqueror--yet treacherous lip-smiles
everywhere,
And Death and infidelity at every step.)

A Nation announcing itself,
I myself make the only growth by which I can be appreciated, 10
I reject none, accept all, then reproduce all in my own forms.

A breed whose proof is in time and deeds;
What we are, we are--nativity is answer enough to objections;
We wield ourselves as a weapon is wielded,
We are powerful and tremendous in ourselves,
We are executive in ourselves--We are sufficient in the variety of
ourselves,
We are the most beautiful to ourselves, and in ourselves;
We stand self-pois'd in the middle, branching thence over the world;
From Missouri, Nebraska, or Kansas, laughing attacks to scorn.

Nothing is sinful to us outside of ourselves, 20
Whatever appears, whatever does not appear, we are beautiful or
sinful in ourselves only.

(O mother! O sisters dear!
If we are lost, no victor else has destroy'd us;
It is by ourselves we go down to eternal night.)

Have you thought there could be but a single Supreme?
There can be any number of Supremes--One does not countervail
another, any more than one eyesight countervails another, or
one life countervails another.

All is eligible to all,
All is for individuals--All is for you,
No condition is prohibited--not God's, or any.

All comes by the body--only health puts you rapport with the
universe. 30

Produce great persons, the rest follows.

[...] Read more

poem by Walt Whitman
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Book the Second

Thou hearest the Nightingale begin the Song of Spring.
The Lark sitting upon his earthly bed, just as the morn
Apears, listens silent; then springing from the waving Corn-field loud
He leads the Choir of Day! trill, thrill, thrill, trill,
Mounting upon the wings of light into the great Expanse,
Reechoing against the lovely blue & shining heavenly Shell.
His little throat labours with inspiration; every feather
On throat & breast & wings vibrates with the effluence Divine.
All Nature listens silent to him, & the awful Sun
Stands still upon the Mountain looking on this little Bird
With eyes of soft humility & wonder, love & awe.
Then loud from their green covert all the Birds begin their Song:
The Thrush, the Linnet & the Goldfinch, Robin & the Wren
Awake the Sun from his sweet reverie upon the Mountain;
The Nightingale again assays his song, & thro’ the day
And thro’ the night warbles luxuriant, every Bird of Song
Attending his loud harmony with admiration & love.
This is a Vision of the lamentation of Beulah over Ololon.

Thou perceivest the Flowers put forth their precious Odours,
And none can tell how form so small a center comes such sweets,
Forgetting that within that Center Eternity expends
Its ever during doors that Og & Anak fiercely guard.
First, e’er the morning breaks, joy opens in the flowery bosoms,
Joy even to tears, which the
Sun rising dries; first the Wild Thyme
And Meadow-sweet, downy & soft, waving among the reeds,
Light springing on the air, lead the sweet Dance: they wake
The Honeysuckle sleeping on the Oak; the flaunting beauty
Revels along upon the wind; the White-thorn, lovely May,
Opens her many lovely eyes; listening the Rose still sleeps –
None dare to wake her; soon she bursts her crimson curtain’d bed
And comes forth in the majesty of beauty; every Flower,
The Pink, the Jessamine, the Wall-flower, the Carnation,
The Jonquil, the mild Lilly opes her heavens; every Tree
And Flower & Herb soon fill the air with an innumberable Dance,
Yet all in order sweet & lovely. Men are sick with Love.
Such is a Vision of the Lamentation of Beulah over Ololon.
And Milton oft sat upon the Couch of Death, & oft conversed
In vision & dream beatific with the Seven Angels of the Presence:
‘I have turned my back upon these Heavens builded on cruelty.
My Spectre still wandering thro’ them follows my Emanation;
He hunts her footsteps thro’ the snow & the wintry hail & rain.
The idiot Reasoner laughs at the Man of Imagination,
And from laughter proceeds o murder by undervaluing calumny.’
Then Hillel, who is Lucifer, replied over the Couch of Death,
And thus the Seven angels instructed him, & thus they converse:
‘We are not Individuals but States, Combinations of Individuals.
We were Angels of the Divine Presence, & were Druids in Annandale,
Compell’d to combine into Form by Satan, the Spectre of Albion,

[...] Read more

poem by William Blake from Milton (1810)
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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

[...] Read more

poem by Nyein Way
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Is The Battle Worth Fighting?

some individuals fight battles
with other individuals needlessly
some individuals are never long
content with getting their own way
some individuals fight ferociously
to dominate all those around about

some individuals who cannot safe vent dominate
their own desires seek to next dominate all others
some individuals who cannot control own emotions
seek to control all within range sphere of influence

poem by Terence George Craddock
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Big Ward Sister

Be careful, mister!
She'll have you in her ward, her web,
The Big Ward Sister,
She'll have your soul for breakfast -
She's a giant Spider
And her words are poison
And she likes to watch you suffer -
She'll take your dreams away
Till you are horribly normal
And insincere like she is,
Fit for the world again,
Castrated, unable to feel any pain,
Horribly healthy, horribly sane! !

poem by John Thorkild Ellison
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Hollywood hasn't aggressively pursued me. Neither have I aggressively pursued Hollywood.

quote by Colin Firth
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Campaigning For Him to Fail

Aggressively,
They are campaigning for him to fail.
Without comprehending...
He is the only one left,
Keeping the creditors off their backs.

He is the only one,
Who has not...
Traded his wisdom for deceit.
To line his pockets to get them fat!

He is the only one,
Who has not...
Chased delusion.
With the hopes of seeing it,
Defeated.

He is the only one,
Who has not...
Succumbed to fantasy!
Or allowed himself,
To grieve over trivia!
For personal gain.
To see himself,
Over others succeed.

And yet...
Aggressively,
They are campaigning for him to fail.
Without comprehending...
He is the only one left,
To prevail in their behave.
But they are too blind.
They see him alone.
As someone alone trying to shine!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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There's A Clock

There's a clock in my head,
Tells the time.
I could stop it,
Freeze the moment.
I'd stand,
Work out when,
Things went
So horribly wrong.

I've glimpsed your smile.
Cried all your tears.
Felt all your fears.
And still,
Don't know,
Where it all went,
So horribly wrong.

May your dreams,
Show you the way.
Take you to that place,
Far away,
Where the clock in my head,
Has,
Stopped time.

© 2012

poem by Nick Strong
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Avon's Harvest

Fear, like a living fire that only death
Might one day cool, had now in Avon’s eyes
Been witness for so long of an invasion
That made of a gay friend whom we had known
Almost a memory, wore no other name
As yet for us than fear. Another man
Than Avon might have given to us at least
A futile opportunity for words
We might regret. But Avon, since it happened,
Fed with his unrevealing reticence
The fire of death we saw that horribly
Consumed him while he crumbled and said nothing.

So many a time had I been on the edge,
And off again, of a foremeasured fall
Into the darkness and discomfiture
Of his oblique rebuff, that finally
My silence honored his, holding itself
Away from a gratuitous intrusion
That likely would have widened a new distance
Already wide enough, if not so new.
But there are seeming parallels in space
That may converge in time; and so it was
I walked with Avon, fought and pondered with him,
While he made out a case for So-and-so,
Or slaughtered What’s-his-name in his old way,
With a new difference. Nothing in Avon lately
Was, or was ever again to be for us,
Like him that we remembered; and all the while
We saw that fire at work within his eyes
And had no glimpse of what was burning there.

So for a year it went; and so it went
For half another year—when, all at once,
At someone’s tinkling afternoon at home
I saw that in the eyes of Avon’s wife
The fire that I had met the day before
In his had found another living fuel.
To look at her and then to think of him,
And thereupon to contemplate the fall
Of a dim curtain over the dark end
Of a dark play, required of me no more
Clairvoyance than a man who cannot swim
Will exercise in seeing that his friend
Off shore will drown except he save himself.
To her I could say nothing, and to him
No more than tallied with a long belief
That I should only have it back again
For my chagrin to ruminate upon,
Ingloriously, for the still time it starved;

[...] Read more

poem by Edwin Arlington Robinson
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5 Attemps

5 suicide attempts
Each one failed
5 times to try and love you
Each one failed
1- Slit my wrists
Failed horribly
1- Kiss you again
Failed horribly
2- Hang myself
Over the edge
2- Hug you again
Over the edge
3- Gun to my head
I couldn't pull through
3- Look in your eyes again
I couldn't pull through
4- Yell to God to end my life
I couldn't talk
4- Try to talk to you again
I couldn't talk
5- Slit my throat
I didn't have the strength
5- Touch you again
I didn't have the strength
5 suicide attempts
Each one failed
5 times to try and love you
Each one failed

poem by Emily Wimetal
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Death And Me

Death settled onto his dark Cleopatra couch
picking admirers who in black auras
sought immortality in magnificent deaths.

'I have artists, kings, monarchs, and especially writers
who sometimes write their own epitaphs years in advance
who cozy up to me seeking my fame and finality.
I say to them there will be no communiques you know beyond this
but they don't relent
some determined to write their final scene
for sequestration in all of memory
in family
in friends or foes minds.

Some believe, I think,
that a magnificent life
deserves a magnificent death.
But you see, '
said Death
'so many imitators
come to me
using me, yes using me for petty means
to revenge, guilt slinging, and often accidentally.

I forever have to suffer amateurs in this.
Many dress for the occasion
identify stardom at last their last equation
and I raise my cloak
disabuse the few and the many
who seek individuality not understanding that
I death only distribute
rearrangements of individuals
into the future many;
Individuals too; often see their own demise
as death
which of course is not true;
individuals are only conduits
for the what is to come to be.
He sighed.
I am merely the medium
which takes individuality
and re-center it
into the cosmos.

poem by Lonnie Hicks
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new yellow lamp
our shadows leap
around like ninjas

haiku by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Dangers Of War

Gangs of war wrong themselves,
They wound and they hurt
Like the lions and tigers of May.
Of June the cats prowl and launch
To keep danger and the sparkle,
The wounds of a man are tried
And they found me in harmony,
Loathing me as they spoke, like ninjas.
Gangs corrupt and crush the market,
Oppressing is the crime they commit.

poem by Naveed Akram
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Ninjitsurf

Ninjas at the beach
Karateing the waves
Evil jinjitsu slapping
Shurikens of the sea
Samurai wipeout

poem by Veronika Knollman
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Hell's Forecast

VIOLENT J: Something had woke me a thump on my roof, it was followed by crashing, more thumping ensued. I jumped out of my bed thinking Id been invaded, heard smashing, more pounding, the sound escalated. Looked out of my window, blood dripped down the glass, I see bodies lay twisted and mangled on grass. I ran into the main room and Shaggy was dead, so was Nate the Mac, Jumpsteady and ABK. Bolted out the house to see if its a joke, I heard hundreds of car alarms, saw flames and smoke and the sky above red, I see dead bodies fallin, its raining with corpses, the blood is appalling.
SHAGGS 2 DOPE AND A GANG OF JUGGALOS (CHORUS): Mama told me when it rains-IT POURS, but never mentioned dead bodies-DEAD BODIES. Mama told me when it rains-IT POURS, La de da da de la da de.
VIOLENT J: I never seen so many...horified looks on peoples faces...(The blood is appalling) I hope I never see what all them people saw...and put them in their places...(The blood is appalling) The sun was so hot...So ho...I was burning...Yeah. Dead bodies lay randomly, some stack in piles, on all of their faces pure horror, no smiles, I see children, and elders, and ninjas my age, all lay naked and mangled, most withered for days. I found safety a shelter, Im under a tree; only fingers and organs come falling on me. I lay sleepless for days the raining continued, the heat of the sun baking corpses like food. Then it finally stopped, I walk knee deep in blood, over piles of bodies through what was my hood. It was right at that moment the Wraith had appeared, and the message it left me might sound kind of weird, but take all that Im seeing and opposite that, truth is Im the one dead and this is my Hells Pit.

song performed by Insane Clown Posse
Added by Lucian Velea
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Run

[Violent J:]
Something has woke my a thump on my roof, it was followed by crashing, more
thumping ensued
I jumped out of my bed thinking I'd been invaded, heard smashing, more
pounding, the sound escalated
Looked out of my window, blood dripped down thy glass, I see bodies lay twisted
and mangled on grass,
I ran into thy main room and Shaggy was dead, so was Nate the Mac, Jumpsteady
and ABK
Bolted out of thy house to see if it's a joke, I heard hundreds of car alarms,
saw flames and smoke
and thy sky above red, I see dead bodies fallin' it's raining with corpses thy
blood is appalling
[Chorus: Shaggy 2 Dope and a gang of Juggalos]
Mama told me when it rains - IT POURS, but never mentioned Dead Bodies - DEAD
BODIES
Mama told me when it rains - IT POURS, La de da da de la da de -
DEAD BODIES
[Violent J:]
I never seen so many.... horrified looks on people's faces...
(Thy blood is appalling)
I hope I never see what all them people saw... and put them in there places...
(Thy blood is appalling),
The sun was so hot... So hot...
I was burning... Yeah
Dead bodies lay randomly some stack in piles, on all of there faces pour
horror, no smiles
I see children, and ciders, and ninjas my age, all lay naked and mangled, most
withered for days,
I found safety a shelter I'm under a tree; only fingers and organs come falling
on me,
I lay sleepless for days as thy raining continued, thy heat of thy sun baking
corpses like food
Then it finally stopped I walk knee deep in blood, over piles of bodies threw
what was my hood
It was right at that moment thy Wraith had appeared, and thy message it left me
might sound kind of weird
But take all that I'm seeing and opposite that, truth is I'm thy one dead and
this is my Hell's Pit.

song performed by Insane Clown Posse
Added by Lucian Velea
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Shintaro

Shintaro, Shintaro, O Shintaro
hero, samurai, loner, onmitsu
maverick, defender, O lover of justice

Shintaro walks with grace
Shintaro’s life is concentration
and quiet, peace and silence
Shintaro is skill and perfection

Shintaro is protector of child
woman and the poor and the orphans
the weak, the helpless
and of any who has been wronged

Shintaro, Shintaro, O Shintaro
hero, samurai, loner, onmitsu
maverick, defender, lover of justice

the ninjas come
like speeding stars
one after another
secret killers
with weapons of death
but none can beat Shintaro -
Akikusa Shintaro, master of peace and stillness
Samurai who sees with his being

Shintaro, Shintaro, O Shintaro
hero, samurai, loner, onmitsu
maverick, defender, O lover of justice -
you live in time
you live in mind

poem by Raj Arumugam
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Narrow, Shallow and Mundane

Narrow, shallow and mundane.
Many have decided to resist this and split.
And not try to make any sense of it.

A peace of mind obtained,
If it can remain sustained...
Should be valued and claimed.
Along with a name that is not defamed.

To sit and witness a twistedness,
Is not healthy to absorb to maintain in one's brain.

See the narrow, shallow and mundane,
As a motivating factor to quit.
To allow the Sun to lift,
From a drenching rain.
It is possible to live life without conflict.

Separate from those,
Who have made this their reality.
They are in a collective mix.
And fixed...
To being narrow, shallow and mundane.
What more proof does one need of it?

Is there reason to argue this with them?
Is it?
Unless there is an enjoyment received from abusiveness?
Is it?
Along with the name calling that has no shame.
Is this something one should miss?
Is it?

Is something with the others who insanely accept,
In a gleeful derangement set in mindsets to exchange...
That addicting?
Is it?

So much so it can not be forgotten and left to leave,
To rot.
What is the need to feel attached to that?
Why can't these afflictions if not wanted...
Can not be dropped and stopped?

What is it with 'this' that is so hypnotic?

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Most of us really aren't horribly unique. There are 6 billion of us. Put 'em all in one room and very few would stand out as individuals. So maybe we ought to think of worth in terms of our ability to get along as a part of nature, rather than being the lords over nature.

quote by Herbert Simon
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Formation of a new race takes place when, over several generations, individuals in one group reproduce more frequently among themselves than they do with individuals in other groups.

quote by J. Philippe Rushton
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