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Now we do have many examples of transitional sequences.

quote by George G. Simpson
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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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poem by Nyein Way
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In Time Zones Trying To Find Themselves

Learning from those examples set.

These days I live and do as blessed,
I can not afford to shop around...
For those 'forgive-me-nots',
To seduce feelings of stress with regret.

Learning from those examples set.

No time do I lend,
For a stopping that drops visits to reminisce.
Not to relive and rehash experiences,
I cherish but not today live.

Learning from those examples set.

Many are mistakes I have made...
To face and admit.
I wont retrace them.
Nor can I erase,
What has taken place.

Many are mistakes I have made...
To face and admit.
I wont retrace them.
Nor can I erase,
What has taken place.

Learning from those examples set,
And observe I do,
An effectiveness they have left...
On those stuck,
In time zones trying to find themselves.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Every paleontologist knows that most new species, genera, and families, and that nearly all categories above the level of family appear in the record suddenly and are not led up to by known, gradual, completely continuous transitional sequences.

quote by George G. Simpson
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For The One Who Would Take Man's Life In His Hands

Tiger Christ unsheathed his sword,
Threw it down, became a lamb.
Swift spat upon the species, but
Took two women to his heart.
Samson who was strong as death
Paid his strength to kiss a slut.
Othello that stiff warrior
Was broken by a woman's heart.
Troy burned for a sea-tax, also for
Possession of a charming whore.
What do all examples show?
What must the finished murderer know?

You cannot sit on bayonets,
Nor can you eat among the dead.
When all are killed, you are alone,
A vacuum comes where hate has fed.
Murder's fruit is silent stone,
The gun increases poverty.
With what do these examples shine?
The soldier turned to girls and wine.
Love is the tact of every good,
The only warmth, the only peace.

"What have I said?" asked Socrates.
"Affirmed extremes, cried yes and no,
Taken all parts, denied myself,
Praised the caress, extolled the blow,
Soldier and lover quite deranged
Until their motions are exchanged.
-What do all examples show?
What can any actor know?
The contradiction in every act,
The infinite task of the human heart."

poem by Delmore Schwartz
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The Prophet And The Poet: Teach Synonymous Parallelism

What is
Synonymous
parallelism?

Synonymous
Parallelism
in biblical poetry

is repetition
a parallel
segment

repeats
an idea
found

in the previous
segment
kind of paraphrase

line two restates
an identical thought
found in line one

using equivalent
expressions
examples include

Lamech said to his wives,
'Adah and Zillah, listen to me;
wives of Lamech, hear my words.

I have killed a man for wounding me,
a young man for injuring me. ' Genesis 4: 23.
Is not the purpose to remind us

Lamech failed to obey God's laws?
'You shall not murder.' Exodus 20: 13.
'Do not seek revenge or bear

a grudge against one of your people,
but love your neighbor
as yourself. I am the LORD.' Leviticus 19: 18.

'It is mine to avenge; I will repay.
In due time their foot will slip;
their day of disaster is near

and their doom rushes upon them.' Deuteronomy 32: 35.
'O LORD, the God who avenges,

[...] Read more

poem by Terence George Craddock
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The mode of attraction

He is struck by her sight;
He is lured by her curves;
He is aroused by her image.
Her flesh is his ultimate.

She is nonchalant at first;
She is moved in company;
She is aroused in sequences.
His hold is her ultimate.

A visual stimulus of woman
Is enough to arouse a man.
Amorous sequences of events
Are needs to arouse a woman.

Mere porn can lure a man;
But in story form, it lures a woman.

He wants to hold;
She wants a hold.
14.02.2001, Pmdi

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Some of us can be examples about going ahead and growing, and some of us, unfortunately, don't make it there, and end up being examples because they had to die. I hit rock bottom, but thank God my bottom wasn't death.

quote by Stevie Ray Vaughan
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Shut Up, Be Happy

We interrupt this program with a special bulletin:
America is now under marshall law.
All constitutional rights have been suspended.
Stay in your homes.
Do not attempt to contact love ones, insurance agent or attorney.
Shut up.
Do not attempt to think or depression may accure.
Stay in your homes.
Curfew is at 7 pm sharp after work.
Anyone gaught outside of gates of their suveillance sectors after curfew
Will be shot.
Remain calm, do not panic.
Your neighborhood watchofficer will be by to collect urine examples in
The morning.
Anyone gaught intefering with the collection of urine examples will be
Shot.
Stay in your homes, remain calm.
The number one enemy of progress is question.
National security is more important than individual will.
All port broadcasts will proceed as normal.
No more than two people may gather anywhere without promission.
Use only the drugs described by your boss or supervisor.
Shut up, be happy.
Obey all orders without question.
The comformental mandor is now mandatory.
Be happy.
At last everything is done for you.

song performed by Ice T
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Canto the Third

I
Hail, Muse! et cetera.—We left Juan sleeping,
Pillow'd upon a fair and happy breast,
And watch'd by eyes that never yet knew weeping,
And loved by a young heart, too deeply blest
To feel the poison through her spirit creeping,
Or know who rested there, a foe to rest,
Had soil'd the current of her sinless years,
And turn'd her pure heart's purest blood to tears!

II
Oh, Love! what is it in this world of ours
Which makes it fatal to be loved? Ah, why
With cypress branches hast thou wreathed thy bowers,
And made thy best interpreter a sigh?
As those who dote on odours pluck the flowers,
And place them on their breast—but place to die—
Thus the frail beings we would fondly cherish
Are laid within our bosoms but to perish.

III
In her first passion woman loves her lover,
In all the others all she loves is love,
Which grows a habit she can ne'er get over,
And fits her loosely—like an easy glove,
As you may find, whene'er you like to prove her:
One man alone at first her heart can move;
She then prefers him in the plural number,
Not finding that the additions much encumber.

IV
I know not if the fault be men's or theirs;
But one thing's pretty sure; a woman planted
(Unless at once she plunge for life in prayers)
After a decent time must be gallanted;
Although, no doubt, her first of love affairs
Is that to which her heart is wholly granted;
Yet there are some, they say, who have had none,
But those who have ne'er end with only one.

V
'T is melancholy, and a fearful sign
Of human frailty, folly, also crime,
That love and marriage rarely can combine,
Although they both are born in the same clime;
Marriage from love, like vinegar from wine—
A sad, sour, sober beverage—by time
Is sharpen'd from its high celestial flavour
Down to a very homely household savour.

[...] Read more

poem by Byron from Don Juan (1824)
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Canto the Twelfth

I
Of all the barbarous middle ages, that
Which is most barbarous is the middle age
Of man; it is -- I really scarce know what;
But when we hover between fool and sage,
And don't know justly what we would be at --
A period something like a printed page,
Black letter upon foolscap, while our hair
Grows grizzled, and we are not what we were; --

II
Too old for youth, -- too young, at thirty-five,
To herd with boys, or hoard with good threescore, --
I wonder people should be left alive;
But since they are, that epoch is a bore:
Love lingers still, although 't were late to wive;
And as for other love, the illusion's o'er;
And money, that most pure imagination,
Gleams only through the dawn of its creation.

III
O Gold! Why call we misers miserable?
Theirs is the pleasure that can never pall;
Theirs is the best bower anchor, the chain cable
Which holds fast other pleasures great and small.
Ye who but see the saving man at table,
And scorn his temperate board, as none at all,
And wonder how the wealthy can be sparing,
Know not what visions spring from each cheese-paring.

IV
Love or lust makes man sick, and wine much sicker;
Ambition rends, and gaming gains a loss;
But making money, slowly first, then quicker,
And adding still a little through each cross
(Which will come over things), beats love or liquor,
The gamester's counter, or the statesman's dross.
O Gold! I still prefer thee unto paper,
Which makes bank credit like a bank of vapour.

V
Who hold the balance of the world? Who reign
O'er congress, whether royalist or liberal?
Who rouse the shirtless patriots of Spain? [*]
(That make old Europe's journals squeak and gibber all.)
Who keep the world, both old and new, in pain
Or pleasure? Who make politics run glibber all?
The shade of Buonaparte's noble daring? --
Jew Rothschild, and his fellow-Christian, Baring.

[...] Read more

poem by Byron from Don Juan (1824)
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Don Juan: Canto The Third

Hail, Muse! et cetera.--We left Juan sleeping,
Pillow'd upon a fair and happy breast,
And watch'd by eyes that never yet knew weeping,
And loved by a young heart, too deeply blest
To feel the poison through her spirit creeping,
Or know who rested there, a foe to rest,
Had soil'd the current of her sinless years,
And turn'd her pure heart's purest blood to tears!

Oh, Love! what is it in this world of ours
Which makes it fatal to be loved? Ah, why
With cypress branches hast thou Wreathed thy bowers,
And made thy best interpreter a sigh?
As those who dote on odours pluck the flowers,
And place them on their breast- but place to die-
Thus the frail beings we would fondly cherish
Are laid within our bosoms but to perish.

In her first passion woman loves her lover,
In all the others all she loves is love,
Which grows a habit she can ne'er get over,
And fits her loosely- like an easy glove,
As you may find, whene'er you like to prove her:
One man alone at first her heart can move;
She then prefers him in the plural number,
Not finding that the additions much encumber.

I know not if the fault be men's or theirs;
But one thing 's pretty sure; a woman planted
(Unless at once she plunge for life in prayers)
After a decent time must be gallanted;
Although, no doubt, her first of love affairs
Is that to which her heart is wholly granted;
Yet there are some, they say, who have had none,
But those who have ne'er end with only one.

'T is melancholy, and a fearful sign
Of human frailty, folly, also crime,
That love and marriage rarely can combine,
Although they both are born in the same clime;
Marriage from love, like vinegar from wine-
A sad, sour, sober beverage- by time
Is sharpen'd from its high celestial flavour
Down to a very homely household savour.

There 's something of antipathy, as 't were,
Between their present and their future state;
A kind of flattery that 's hardly fair
Is used until the truth arrives too late-
Yet what can people do, except despair?

[...] Read more

poem by Byron
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An ordinary fool

Do you think really they are fool?
Do you think they are playing tool?
May be they are real masters
They are examples to the doubt casters

Honest suffers but they always gain
Our sincere efforts go in vain
We fail to understand what is actual art?
We look fool and they look smart

It is custom of the society
You may find them in good variety
They have their own way to pursue
They get it easily whatever is due

What are sugars coated words and sentences?
You can sight many examples and instances
It is something said in individual’s praise
You won’t be able to judge or doubts to raise

This is how they gain the foot hold
Make the assertive bid and look so bold
You will be mesmerized to believe
It is world of fools where we live

Why do we blame others for our ignorance?
They are doing it in our presence
We know it well still fail to take notice
They stand to gain and look very wise

It is fine if you can turn the table
You should be bold enough and capable
No one can influence you if you are alert
We should not allow anybody to subvert

It is not game but simple mastery
There is no trick or mystery
We are yielding to mental slavery
It is not sign of any bravery

it can y be considered as momentary set back
It will not compel you to pack
You may get wind easily out of it
You may safeguard and feel very fit

poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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The Fan : A Poem. Book II.

Olympus' gates unfold: in heaven's high towers
Appear in council all the immortal powers;
Great Jove above the rest exalted sate,
And in his mind revolv'd succeeding fate,
His awful eye with ray superior shone,
The thunder-grasping eagle guards his throne
On silver clouds the great assembly laid,
The whole creation at one view survey'd.

But see, fair Venus comes in all her state;
The wanton Loves and Graces round her wait;
With her loose robe officious Zephyrs play,
And strow with odoriferous flowers the way.
In her right hand she waves the fluttering fan,
And thus in melting sounds her speech began.

Assembled powers, who fickle mortals guide,
Who o'er the sea, the skies and earth preside,
Ye fountains whence all human blessings flow,
Who pour your bounties on the world below;
Bacchus first rais'd and prun'd the climbing vine,
And taught the grape to stream with generous wine;
Industrious Ceres tam'd the savage ground,
And pregnant fields with golden harvest crown'd;
Flora with bloomy sweets enrich'd the year,
And fruitful autumn in Pomona's care.
I first taught woman to subdue mankind,
And all her native charms with dress refin'd,
Celestian synod, this machine survey,
That shades the face, or bids cool zephyrs play;
If conscious blushes on her cheek arise,
With this she veils them from her lover's eyes;
No levell'd glance betrays her amorous heart,
From the fan's ambush she directs the dart.
The royal sceptre shines in Juno's hand,
And twisted thunder speaks great Jove's command;
On Pallas' arm the Gorgon shield appears,
And Neptune's mighty grasp the trident bears;
Ceres is with the bending suckle seen,
And the strong bow points out the Cynthian queen;
Henceforth the waving fan my hand shall grace,
The waving fan supply the sceptre's place.
Who shall, ye powers, the forming pencil hold?
What story shall the wide machine unfold?
Let Loves and Graces lead the dance around,
With myrtle wreaths and flowery chaplet's crown'd,
Let Cupid's arrows strow the smiling plains
With unresisting nymphs, and amorous swains:
May glowing picture o'er the surface shine,
To melt slow virgins with the warm design.

[...] Read more

poem by John Gay
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Pedagogues (So Superior) [REVISED]

I am highly suspicious reading how two supercilious,
pedantic pedagogues (so superior) , reduce the whole
world to a kindergarten in which materialist orthodoxy
alone knows anything

The rest of civilization is depicted as idiots and fools
in The Science of Discworld (Revised Edition) , where
Stewart and Cohen wrote chapters on science and
Pratchett described tomfoolery of the Wizards
on the Discworld, definitely fun to read –

But a haughty, condescending tone of its boring
overview of Western science and evolution, based
on assumptions the universe is dead except for
human minds, is nauseating –

reminding of Sir David Attenborough presenting
every hypothesis and theoretic assumption as the
gospel truth. Clearly it is true that science consists
of lies for children, these narrators are scintillating
examples of how it is done with amazing ease!

“The Science of the Discworld 1” Revised Edition
Jack, Pratchett, Terry, Stewart and Ian Cohen
Kindle – bought from Amazon

[ORIGINAL]

I am highly suspicious, reading how two supercilious,
pedantic pedagogues so superior, reduce the whole
world to a kindergarten in which materialist orthodoxy
alone knows anything

The rest of civilization is depicted as idiots and fools
in The Science of Discworld Revised Edition, Stewart
and Cohen wrote the chapters on science; Pratchett
described the tomfoolery

Of the Wizards on the Discworld, fun to read - but the
haughty, condescending tone of the boring overview
of Western science and evolution based on the as-
sumption the universe is dead

Except for human minds, is nauseating - reminding of
Sir David Attenborough who presents every hypothesis
and theoretic assumption as gospel truth

Clearly it is true that science consists of lies for children,
these narrators are scintillating examples of how

[...] Read more

poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Examples

What kind of an example will you be
Spoke mother nature to the tree
As it stood so proudly and ever so tall
As though defying to all that it would fall
Will you place your roots deep into the Earth
Then other trees like you will then give birth
Spoke once again mother nature to the tree
Tell me please what type of example will you be.

What kind of an example will you become
Spoke the mother wolf unto her young
Will you be majestic and run fast and free
Running in packs to provide for your family.
Or will you become a mother like I became
But swearing to all you will never be tamed
While fearing no one in the the moonlight or the sun
So please tell me what type of examples will you become.

What kind of an example will you be
Spoke the mother to her daughter upon her knee
Will you be a loyal and devout and virtuous woman
Never doing the things that a lady shouldn't
Being honest and caring through the days of your life
Then being truthful and trusting when you become a wife
And will you become a mother just like me
Please tell me what type of an example will you be.

What kind of an example will you be
Spoke GOD to mother nature as she planted the tree
And what kind of an example have you become
Spoke GOD to the she wolf as she spoke to her young
What hind of an example will you then be
Spoke GOD to the mother with her daughter on her knee
The young ones will do and become from what they see
As the examples will be you spoke GOD to all three.

Randy L. McClave

poem by Randy McClave
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Rokeby: Canto IV.

I.
When Denmark's raven soar'd on high,
Triumphant through Northumbrian sky,
Till, hovering near, her fatal croak
Bade Reged's Britons dread the yoke,
And the broad shadow of her wing
Blacken'd each cataract and spring,
Where Tees in tumult leaves his source,
Thundering o'er Caldron and High-Force;
Beneath the shade the Northmen came,
Fix'd on each vale a Runic name,
Rear'd high their altar's rugged stone,
And gave their Gods the land they won.
Then, Balder, one bleak garth was thine,
And one sweet brooklet's silver line,
And Woden's Croft did title gain
From the stern Father of the Slain;
But to the Monarch of the Mace,
That held in fight the foremost place,
To Odin's son, and Sifia's spouse,
Near Stratforth high they paid their vows,
Remember'd Thor's victorious fame,
And gave the dell the Thunderer's name.

II.
Yet Scald or Kemper err'd, I ween,
Who gave that soft and quiet scene,
With all its varied light and shade,
And every little sunny glade,
And the blithe brook that strolls along
Its pebbled bed with summer song,
To the grim God of blood and scar,
The grisly King of Northern War.
O, better were its banks assign'd
To spirits of a gentler kind!
For where the thicket-groups recede,
And the rath primrose decks the mead,
The velvet grass seems carpet meet
For the light fairies' lively feet.
Yon tufted knoll, with daisies strown,
Might make proud Oberon a throne,
While, hidden in the thicket nigh,
Puck should brood o'er his frolic sly;
And where profuse the wood-vetch clings
Round ash and elm, in verdant rings,
Its pale and azure-pencill'd flower
Should canopy Titania's bower.

III.
Here rise no cliffs the vale to shade;

[...] Read more

poem by Sir Walter Scott
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The Cōforte of Louers

The prohemye.

The gentyll poetes/vnder cloudy fygures
Do touche a trouth/and clokeit subtylly
Harde is to cōstrue poetycall scryptures
They are so fayned/& made sētēcyously
For som do wryte of loue by fables pryuely
Some do endyte/vpon good moralyte
Of chyualrous actes/done in antyquyte
Whose fables and storyes ben pastymes pleasaunt
To lordes and ladyes/as is theyr lykynge
Dyuers to moralyte/ben oft attendaunt
And many delyte to rede of louynge
Youth loueth aduenture/pleasure and lykynge
Aege foloweth polycy/sadnesse and prudence
Thus they do dyffre/eche in experyence
I lytell or nought/experte in this scyence
Compyle suche bokes/to deuoyde ydlenes
Besechynge the reders/with all my delygence
Where as I offende/for to correct doubtles
Submyttynge me to theyr grete gentylnes
As none hystoryagraffe/nor poete laureate
But gladly wolde folowe/the makynge of Lydgate
Fyrst noble Gower/moralytees dyde endyte
And after hym Cauncers/grete bokes delectable
Lyke a good phylozophre/meruaylously dyde wryte
After them Lydgate/the monke commendable
Made many wonderfull bokes moche profytable
But syth the are deed/& theyr bodyes layde in chest
I pray to god to gyue theyr soules good rest

Finis prohemii.

Whan fayre was phebus/w&supere; his bemes bryght
Amyddes of gemyny/aloft the fyrmament
Without blacke cloudes/castynge his pured lyght
With sorowe opprest/and grete incombrement
Remembrynge well/my lady excellent
Saynge o fortune helpe me to preuayle
For thou knowest all my paynfull trauayle
I went than musynge/in a medowe grene
Myselfe alone/amonge the floures in dede
With god aboue/the futertens is sene
To god I sayd/thou mayst my mater spede
And me rewarde/accordynge to my mede
Thou knowest the trouthe/I am to the true
Whan that thou lyst/thou mayst them all subdue
Who dyde preserue the yonge edyppus
Whiche sholde haue be slayne by calculacyon
To deuoyde grete thynges/the story sheweth vs

[...] Read more

poem by Stephen Hawes
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666 Third examples

666 third examples
666 Third examples
The gamer
in the middle of the warehouse sits the gamer he is paid in advance for several years of time advance he plays each game until the game ender button is revealed and then he cheats of course he wins all the games he plays them all day long never tiring never missing a pinball wizard he loves to play them all the lyrics to songs run into the words for my poem seems ok to hum a battle song he whistles in his little crucible cubicle we listened one day and it was dixie the next day it was the battle hymn of the republic he is confedarate one day the yankee spy the next he plays the games no one else will buy he plays them free online he pays us for the signal space the switch boxes gives him love and grace the number of his name the 666 replaces what he needs his body looks so thin but the gamer has no time to eat he must play and download games
the student slash writer
get it what a joke ahha
student/writer
the person has the curly que ball hair he sits and stares in space is paid but only for the one day at a time he sits and stares until he gets ideas from space and time then double spaces all the work has to be in black government ink they still dont like the computor generation homework some teachers still make them student/writers write the homework out by hand on old timey notebook paper three hole binding in the notebook is an actual plastic looking thing with folders pens holding ink and pencils with the number two allowed them the online look ups but not the cheating styles.
The pornographer sits near the end on the Cee ell the Ex ell is my inital investment included no exposure to the elements no censure or sensorchips allowed no filters of any kind let love rule the day on my watch is mickeys minnie mouse here is what his computor might say to him CLICK too many clicks and the more he clicks the more he wishes and wants he needs exhaust fumes in this small breathable space let go of the mouse you idiot while the pornographer still clicks too many clicks we turned off his moniter long ago to give his privacy a blessing from the 666 we do not care what he is looking at or doing there as long as we get paid the money to keep the overhead paid and all of us in online need there were three unpaid homeless users also here today. This warehouse needs to be more work done but all of us are still online and having fun with 666 work is the last option.

poem by Charles Hice
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Man's Inhumanity

We have read about New York's Twin Towers and Hiroshima in Japan
Just for us two examples of man's inhumanity to man
And of Hitler and his Holocaust one who lives on in illfame
And of Stalin and of Mao and their awful crimes of shame.

We've heard of Pol Pot in Cambodia millions did suffer when he did rule
Some with power at their disposal they can be so very cruel
But in truth they were no different to some of the rulers of today
Robert Mugabe of Zimbabwe as a despot now leads the way.

Streets in some Cities honour Oliver Cromwell yet if we go back in time
Against poor Catholic Irish peasants he committed many a crime
But 'tis said the winners write the war history with that one must agree
And Cromwell he is honoured for his crimes against humanity.

Idi Amin of Uganda of old age in exile died
The unmarked graves of his Homeland his shame forever hide
And up to a million Tutsis in Rwanda by their fellow Rwandans butchered to death
And this only in the recent past history repeats itself lest we forget.

We have not learned from history or so 'twould seem that way
So many despotic leaders in the World of today
And the Twin Towers of New York and Hiroshima in Japan
Are only two examples of man's inhumanity to man.

poem by Francis Duggan
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Man is a transitional animal. He is not the climax of creation.

Carl Sagan in Cosmic Connection: An Extraterrestrial Perspective
Added by Catalin Popescu
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