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Comenius

Let us have but one end in view, the welfare of humanity; and let us put aside all selfishness in consideration of language, nationality, or religion.

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Wasteland

Out into the wasteland
Out into the wasteland
No religion
No religion, no religion at all
No religion
No religion, no religion at all
No religion, no religion at all
No religion
No religion, no religion at all
No religion
No religion at all
No religion
Emissionary man amongst the heathen
Cant you see a modern primitive
I came back, Im gonna find,
Im gonna give religion
When there was, no religion at all
Im outta the wasteland
Im into this head man
Im outta the wasteland
No religion at all
Im outta the wasteland
Im into this head man
Im outta the wasteland
No religion, no religion at all
Theres a man in need of resurrection
(no religion)
Cant you see a modern primitive
(no religion)
But Im a man I need my love and
Freedom (no religion)
When there was no freedom at all
Im outta the wasteland
Im into this head man
Im outta the wasteland
No religion at all
Im outta the wasteland
Im into this head man
Im outta the wasteland
No religion, no religion at all
No religion
No religion at all
No religion
No religion at all
In vr land
The future of fun
Tell me what to do
In vr law
Computer crime
Um, so sublime

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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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Portugal Manoel Da Assumpcam Missionary.

'Portugal Manoel Da Assumpcam
Amar Sonar Moyna Pakki Amigo,
I never seen you in my live ever before
Which Country are you from?
My dear amigo Manoel Da Assumpcam.

Your colour of heritage in unknown Land l fear to bear your name in word.
I can't bear to missed you my amigo, Oh yes it can't be forgot either
You have contributed your nameless name in the nation without name
To influence other and to form the crowd in unknown Land,
Where are you from Sir?

And to shape not my nationalities in Language in Culture but yours!
The present Language in Bangla o' my dear amigo never was counted by.
You may be nothing To Government of Portugal than but today.
Priceless name in the heart of people's in the unknown Land.

I have nothing to say in Language Portuguese other than to say thank you.
For teaching and advocating me in Language in Bangla
That nation today celebrates every year.
With their tears on their eyes and face.

Bear to say words other than few minute in silent,
As orphanage children's looking at each other face.
Remembering those who gave their words in Bangla and live for.
And today I believe in visual hallucination it's not too late
to say how much I love you in Language in Bangla ‘Nil Dariar Prem'

The Birth of new Generation in Culture in Bangla.
Almost was given birth after more than three century in Bangla
'Inna-Lilla-He-O-Inna-He-La-He-Ra-Je-Ow n'
When will I met you?

Day of Kiamot is to far from Bay of Bengal to Portugal.
The mother of all living things on Earth,
Singing in the name of Almighty Lord ‘Allah' too
In the soil of unknown Land in British India my not his or her love.

How lucky you was never assassinated by knowing you was pigeons,
As Bongo Bandhu,
First Prime Ministers of Bangladesh.
I miss you ‘Manoel Da Assumpcam'
Your name prescribed in Language Bangla by name
'Shaheed Minar'
Capital City o Bangladesh.
By name once was known Dac-ca' now became ‘DHA-KA'

Your name in my Language Mother tongues days and nights,
‘Joy Bangla'
To Miss you my dear amigo you left us under your own broken umbrella.

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We've All Been Greedy

Those peaceful nights for some have passed.
Those feeling safe...
In sheltered communities behind closed gates.
Are awakening.
But not to Robins singing.
To peer from behind French customed made doors.
Swinging out onto the patio.
Overlooking acres upon acres upon more acres,
Of freshly cut grass.

These awareness days have come upon us fast.
Who would believe such a quick erasing,
Of a way of life....
Would come to pass.
And leave those embittered with much grief,
With streaks of torment on twisted faces.
Disgraced and now nervously pacing.
In wait.
But for what?
When the 'why' of it has arrived too late!

We've been greedy.
See what gluttony does when it can't be overcomed.
We've been greedy,
And feeding on our selfishness.
While ripping the hearts out of those to sustain it.
Doing everything to gain more and maintain it.

We've been greedy!
And..
The stinging of the realness,
Persists.
And can not be contained.
Acts of civil madness...
Spreads fast!

Thousands go out of their minds.
Many more are trapped!

Something in their minds have snapped.
Only those exposed to fantasies,
Are observed doing that.

And a waste of explanation can not bring them back!
Their self delusions have attacked.

Leaving us all affected by that 'fat'!
Yes fat!

Undisciplined rascists...

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Body Language

Words and music by freddie mercury
Give me body give me body body
Give me your body
Dont talk dont talk dont talk dont talk
Baby dont talk
Body language body language body language
Give me your body
Just give me yeah your body
Give me yeah your body
Dont talk
Body language huh huh
Body language body language
You got red lips snakes in your eyes
Long legs great thighs
You got the cutest ass Ive ever seen
Knock me down for a six any time
Look at me I gotta case of body language
Look at me I gotta case of body language
Look at me I gotta case of body language
Look at me I gotta case of body language
Of body language of body language
Yeah sexy body sexy sexy body
I want your body
Baby youre hot
Body language body language body language
Body language body language body language
Body language body language body language

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Give Me That Old Time Religion

Give me that old time religion
Tis the old time religion,
Tis the old time religion,
And it's good enough for me.

It was good for our mothers.
It was good for our mothers.
It was good for our mothers.
And it's good enough for me.


Give me that old time religion
Tis the old time religion,
Tis the old time religion,
And it's good enough for me.


Makes me love everybody.
Makes me love everybody.
Makes me love everybody.
And it's good enough for me.


Give me that old time religion
Tis the old time religion,
Tis the old time religion,
And it's good enough for me.


It has saved our fathers.
It has saved our fathers.
It has saved our fathers.
And it's good enough for me.


Give me that old time religion
Tis the old time religion,
Tis the old time religion,
And it's good enough for me.


It will do when I am dying.
It will do when I am dying.
It will do when I am dying.
And it's good enough for me.


Give me that old time religion
Tis the old time religion,
Tis the old time religion,

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Some Considerations

Consider this world and also our place in it
and know that time passes by every minute.
Consider those who’re living and also the dead
and know of the ways people earn their bread.
We consider many things but few are of real importance
and know that all those which are not are in abundance.

In consideration of this what can anyone do?
but live one’s life in a way which is true.

Consider the flowers in the garden and the colours they show
and know that with tender loving care from a seed they grow.
Consider all the children somewhere and watch them play
and know that with laughter and fun most pass the day.
Consider the things which are false and those which are true
and know how each one can and does affect all that we do.

In consideration of this what can we all do?
but try and live in a way which is just true.

Consider the march of the spirit of progress and the direction we’re all going
and know that every so often we must turn around and look back knowing.
Consider that which we all know and also that which we do not
and know it’s but knowledge and ignorance that make up the lot.
Consider the beginning and that of the very end
and know it’s terrible to get there without a friend.

In consideration of this what can one do?
but go through life with a friend who’s true.

Consider about each day and then also about each night
and know that without them there’s no darkness or light.
Consider the sunshine and also the shade
and know that with them each day is made.
Consider the evening and also the time we sleep
and know that because of them the night is deep.

In consideration of this what is there to do?
but live one day at a time and remember too.

Consider that which seems right and also what appears wrong
and know that they are both attributes of the weak and strong.
Consider the past and the future and of course the present
and know that all life relates to them and is not an accident.
Consider the labour with the crops and also the extent of the field
and know that with care and nature’s help a rich harvest will yield.

In consideration of this what is there one must do?
but only the best that one can so as to get through.

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Prince Hohenstiel-Schwangau, Saviour of Society

Epigraph

Υδραν φονεύσας, μυρίων τ᾽ ἄλλων πόνων
διῆλθον ἀγέλας . . .
τὸ λοίσθιον δὲ τόνδ᾽ ἔτλην τάλας πόνον,
. . . δῶμα θριγκῶσαι κακοῖς.

I slew the Hydra, and from labour pass'd
To labour — tribes of labours! Till, at last,
Attempting one more labour, in a trice,
Alack, with ills I crowned the edifice.

You have seen better days, dear? So have I —
And worse too, for they brought no such bud-mouth
As yours to lisp "You wish you knew me!" Well,
Wise men, 't is said, have sometimes wished the same,
And wished and had their trouble for their pains.
Suppose my Œdipus should lurk at last
Under a pork-pie hat and crinoline,
And, latish, pounce on Sphynx in Leicester Square?
Or likelier, what if Sphynx in wise old age,
Grown sick of snapping foolish people's heads,
And jealous for her riddle's proper rede, —
Jealous that the good trick which served the turn
Have justice rendered it, nor class one day
With friend Home's stilts and tongs and medium-ware,—
What if the once redoubted Sphynx, I say,
(Because night draws on, and the sands increase,
And desert-whispers grow a prophecy)
Tell all to Corinth of her own accord.
Bright Corinth, not dull Thebes, for Lais' sake,
Who finds me hardly grey, and likes my nose,
And thinks a man of sixty at the prime?
Good! It shall be! Revealment of myself!
But listen, for we must co-operate;
I don't drink tea: permit me the cigar!
First, how to make the matter plain, of course —
What was the law by which I lived. Let 's see:
Ay, we must take one instant of my life
Spent sitting by your side in this neat room:
Watch well the way I use it, and don't laugh!
Here's paper on the table, pen and ink:
Give me the soiled bit — not the pretty rose!
See! having sat an hour, I'm rested now,
Therefore want work: and spy no better work
For eye and hand and mind that guides them both,
During this instant, than to draw my pen
From blot One — thus — up, up to blot Two — thus —
Which I at last reach, thus, and here's my line
Five inches long and tolerably straight:

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No Religion

We didnt know no better, and they said it could be worse
Some people thought it was blessing
Other people think that its a curse
Its a choice between fact and fiction
And the whole world has gone astray
Thats why theres no religion, no religion, no religion here today
And theres no straight answers
Of what this thing called love is all about
Some say its unconditional
Other people just remain in doubt
Well I cleaned up my diction, I had nothing left to say
Except theres no religion, no religion, no religion here today
And they ask what hate is
Its just the other side of love
Some people want to give their enemies
Everything they think that they deserve
Some say why dont you love your neighbours
Go ahead, turn the other cheek
But theres nobody on this planet that can ever be so meek
And I cant bleed for you
You have to do it your own way
And theres no religion, no religion, no religion here today
And they ask what hate is
Its just the other side of love
Some people want to give their enemies
Everything they think that they deserve
Some say why dont you love your neighbours
Go ahead, turn the other cheek
But have you ever met anybody whos ever been the meek
And its so cruel to expect the saviour to save the day
And theres no religion, no religion, no religion here today
And theres no mystery, and theres nothing hidden
And theres no religion here today
And theres no religion, no religion, no religion here today

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Welfare Mothers

People, pick up on what Im puttin down now
Welfare mothers make better lovers
Down at every laundromat in town now
Welfare mothers make better lovers
While theyre washin you can hear this sound now
Welfare mothers make better lovers
Divorcee!
Hard to believe that love is free now
Welfare mothers make better lovers
Out on the street with the whole family now
Welfare mothers make better lovers
Hard to believe that love is free now
Welfare mothers make better lovers
Divorcee!
People, pick up on what Im puttin down now
Welfare mothers make better lovers
Down in every laundromat in town now
Welfare mothers make better lovers
While theyre washin you can hear this sound now
Welfare mothers make better lovers
Divorcee!

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William Cowper

Conversation

Though nature weigh our talents, and dispense
To every man his modicum of sense,
And Conversation in its better part
May be esteem'd a gift, and not an art,
Yet much depends, as in the tiller’s toil,
On culture, and the sowing of the soil.
Words learn'd by rote a parrot may rehearse,
But talking is not always to converse;
Not more distinct from harmony divine,
The constant creaking of a country sign.
As alphabets in ivory employ,
Hour after hour, the yet unletter’d boy,
Sorting and puzzling with a deal of glee
Those seeds of science call’d his a b c;
So language in the mouths of the adult,
Witness its insignificant result,
Too often proves an implement of play,
A toy to sport with, and pass time away.
Collect at evening what the day brought forth,
Compress the sum into its solid worth,
And if it weigh the importance of a fly,
The scales are false, or algebra a lie.
Sacred interpreter of human thought,
How few respect or use thee as they ought!
But all shall give account of every wrong,
Who dare dishonour or defile the tongue;
Who prostitute it in the cause of vice,
Or sell their glory at a market-price;
Who vote for hire, or point it with lampoon,
The dear-bought placeman, and the cheap buffoon.
There is a prurience in the speech of some,
Wrath stays him, or else God would strike them dumb;
His wise forbearance has their end in view,
They fill their measure and receive their due.
The heathen lawgivers of ancient days,
Names almost worthy of a Christian’s praise,
Would drive them forth from the resort of men,
And shut up every satyr in his den.
Oh, come not ye near innocence and truth,
Ye worms that eat into the bud of youth!
Infectious as impure, your blighting power
Taints in its rudiments the promised flower;
Its odour perish’d, and its charming hue,
Thenceforth ‘tis hateful, for it smells of you.
Not e’en the vigorous and headlong rage
Of adolescence, or a firmer age,
Affords a plea allowable or just
For making speech the pamperer of lust;
But when the breath of age commits the fault,
‘Tis nauseous as the vapour of a vault.

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Hablemos El Mismo Idioma

En la vida hay tantos senderos por caminar
Qu ironia que al fin nos llevan al mismo lugar
Pesar de las diferencias que solemos buscar
Respiramos el mismo aire, despertamos al mismo sol
Nos alumbra la misma luna, necesitamos sentir amor
Nos alumbra la misma luna, necesitamos sentir amor
Hay tanto tiempo que hemos perdido por discutir
Por diferencias que entre nosotros no deben existir
Las costumbres, raices y herencias que me hacen quien soy
Son coloros de un arcoiris, acordes de un mismo son
Las palabras se hacen fronteras, cuando no nacen del corazn
Hablemos el mismo idioma y as las cosas irn mejor
(coro)
Hablemos el mismo idioma, que hay tantas
Cosas porque luchar
Hablemos el mismo idioma, que solo unidos se lograrn
Hablemos el mismo idioma, que nunca es tarde para empezar
Hablemos el mismo idioma, bajo la bandera de libertad
Si lo pensamos nosotros tenemos tanto en comn
Y no conviene que el mundo nos oiga
Con una sla voz
Es importante seguir adelante con fuerza
Y con f
Forgemos nuevos caminos, en la unin hay
Un gran poder
Orgullosos de ser latinos no importa
De donde, todo podemos vencer
(coro)
Hablemos el mismo idioma, que hay tantas
Cosas porque luchar
Hablemos el mismo idioma, que solo unido se lograr
Hablemos el mismo idioma, que nunca es tarde para empezar
Hablemos el mismo idioma, bajo la bandera de libertad
Hablemos el mismo idioma dame la mano
Mi hermano
(ad lib) no importa de donde seas todos
Somos hermanos t ves
Que no existan las diferencias entre nosotros hispanos
En esta vida hay que trabajar para lograr lo que queremos, latinos
Las palabras se hacen fronteras cuando no se
Hablan del corazn si t ves
No importa raza ni religion, somos hermanos
En el corazn pero que fuerza tenemos
Los latinos si nos mantenemos unidos
(translation:
In life there are so many paths that we can choose to walk
How ironic that they all lead to the same place
In spite of all the differences that we tend
To look for in each other
We all breathe the same air and wake up to the same sun

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The language with largest vocabulary

It has only seven letters
And has the largest vocabulary
There is no dearth
Of expression
For any situation or emotion
One same thing
Can mean a million things

King Solomon deciphered
Ants’ impression using this language
Indian mythology has it that
A much revered teacher
Taught all his disciples
Using this language
Clearing their all doubts
On any subject

It is not written
It is not spoken
It is not heard
But has in-depth meaning
And a lot application

It is not formally taught
As it has no syllabus
People pick up this
In their life paths
Some do not just pick this up
But, make excellent use of it
And successfully overcome
Difficult and challenging maneuvers

This language came into being
Long before the creation of this universe
Yes, it is not a just a global language
It is a universal language

This is in use world over
This is a common language
But often not used
This language has no grammar
No problem of spelling words wrong
There are no present, future or past tenses
There is no subject, predicate or object
As there are no sentences framed with this language

When used the person can still keep smiling
Often understood as a consent granted

Even the just new born is

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Queen Mab: Part V.

'Thus do the generations of the earth
Go to the grave and issue from the womb,
Surviving still the imperishable change
That renovates the world; even as the leaves
Which the keen frost-wind of the waning year
Has scattered on the forest-soil and heaped
For many seasons there-though long they choke,
Loading with loathsome rottenness the land,
All germs of promise, yet when the tall trees
From which they fell, shorn of their lovely shapes,
Lie level with the earth to moulder there,
They fertilize the land they long deformed;
Till from the breathing lawn a forest springs
Of youth, integrity and loveliness,
Like that which gave it life, to spring and die.
Thus suicidal selfishness, that blights
The fairest feelings of the opening heart,
Is destined to decay, whilst from the soil
Shall spring all virtue, all delight, all love,
And judgment cease to wage unnatural war
With passion's unsubduable array.
Twin-sister of Religion, Selfishness!
Rival in crime and falsehood, aping all
The wanton horrors of her bloody play;
Yet frozen, unimpassioned, spiritless,
Shunning the light, and owning not its name,
Compelled by its deformity to screen
With flimsy veil of justice and of right
Its unattractive lineaments that scare
All save the brood of ignorance; at once
The cause and the effect of tyranny;
Unblushing, hardened, sensual and vile;
Dead to all love but of its abjectness;
With heart impassive by more noble powers
Than unshared pleasure, sordid gain, or fame;
Despising its own miserable being,
Which still it longs, yet fears, to disenthrall.

'Hence commerce springs, the venal interchange
Of all that human art or Nature yield;
Which wealth should purchase not, but want demand,
And natural kindness hasten to supply
From the full fountain of its boundless love,
Forever stifled, drained and tainted now.
Commerce! beneath whose poison-breathing shade
No solitary virtue dares to spring,
But poverty and wealth with equal hand
Scatter their withering curses, and unfold
The doors of premature and violent death
To pining famine and full-fed disease,

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William Blake

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,

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Khalil Gibran

A Poet's Voice XV

Part One


The power of charity sows deep in my heart, and I reap and gather the wheat in bundles and give them to the hungry.

My soul gives life to the grapevine and I press its bunches and give the juice to the thirsty.

Heaven fills my lamp with oil and I place it at my window to direct the stranger through the dark.

I do all these things because I live in them; and if destiny should tie my hands and prevent me from so doing, then death would be my only desire. For I am a poet, and if I cannot give, I shall refuse to receive.

Humanity rages like a tempest, but I sigh in silence for I know the storm must pass away while a sigh goes to God.

Human kinds cling to earthly things, but I seek ever to embrace the torch of love so it will purify me by its fire and sear inhumanity from my heart.

Substantial things deaden a man without suffering; love awakens him with enlivening pains.

Humans are divided into different clans and tribes, and belong to countries and towns. But I find myself a stranger to all communities and belong to no settlement. The universe is my country and the human family is my tribe.

Men are weak, and it is sad that they divide amongst themselves. The world is narrow and it is unwise to cleave it into kingdoms, empires, and provinces.

Human kinds unite themselves one to destroy the temples of the soul, and they join hands to build edifices for earthly bodies. I stand alone listening to the voice of hope in my deep self saying, "As love enlivens a man's heart with pain, so ignorance teaches him the way of knowledge." Pain and ignorance lead to great joy and knowledge because the Supreme Being has created nothing vain under the sun.

Part Two


I have a yearning for my beautiful country, and I love its people because of their misery. But if my people rose, stimulated by plunder and motivated by what they call "patriotic spirit" to murder, and invaded my neighbor's country, then upon the committing of any human atrocity I would hate my people and my country.

I sing the praise of my birthplace and long to see the home of my children; but if the people in that home refused to shelter and feed the needy wayfarer, I would convert my praise into anger and my longing to forgetfulness. My inner voice would say, "The house that does not comfort the need is worthy of naught by destruction."

I love my native village with some of my love for my country; and I love my country with part of my love for the earth, all of which is my country; and I love the earth will all of myself because it is the haven of humanity, the manifest spirit of God.

Humanity is the spirit of the Supreme Being on earth, and that humanity is standing amidst ruins, hiding its nakedness behind tattered rags, shedding tears upon hollow cheeks, and calling for its children with pitiful voice. But the children are busy singing their clan's anthem; they are busy sharpening the swords and cannot hear the cry of their mothers.

Humanity appeals to its people but they listen not. Were one to listen, and console a mother by wiping her tears, other would say, "He is weak, affected by sentiment."

Humanity is the spirit of the Supreme Being on earth, and that Supreme Being preaches love and good-will. But the people ridicule such teachings. The Nazarene Jesus listened, and crucifixion was his lot; Socrates heard the voice and followed it, and he too fell victim in body. The followers of The Nazarene and Socrates are the followers of Deity, and since people will not kill them, they deride them, saying, "Ridicule is more bitter than killing."

Jerusalem could not kill The Nazarene, nor Athens Socrates; they are living yet and shall live eternally. Ridicule cannot triumph over the followers of Deity. They live and grow forever.

Part Three


Thou art my brother because you are a human, and we both are sons of one Holy Spirit; we are equal and made of the same earth.

You are here as my companion along the path of life, and my aid in understanding the meaning of hidden Truth. You are a human, and, that fact sufficing, I love you as a brother. You may speak of me as you choose, for Tomorrow shall take you away and will use your talk as evidence for his judgment, and you shall receive justice.

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Toni Morrison

Tongue-suicide is not only the choice of children. It is common among the infantile heads of state and power merchants whose evacuated language leaves them with no access to what is left of their human instincts for they speak only to those who obey, or in order to force obedience. The systematic looting of language can be recognized by the tendency of its users to forgo its nuanced, complex, mid-wifery properties for menace and subjugation. Oppressive language does more than represent violence; it is violence; does more than represent the limits of knowledge; it limits knowledge. Whether it is obscuring state language or the faux-language of mindless media; whether it is the proud but calcified language of the academy or the commodity driven language of science; whether it is the malign language of law-without-ethics, or language designed for the estrangement of minorities, hiding its racist plunder in its literary cheek — it must be rejected, altered and exposed. It is the language that drinks blood, laps vulnerabilities, tucks its fascist boots under crinolines of respectability and patriotism as it moves relentlessly toward the bottom line and the bottomed-out mind. Sexist language, racist language, theistic languageall are typical of the policing languages of mastery, and cannot, do not permit new knowledge or encourage the mutual exchange of ideas.

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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!

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Cackle

Oh, my brothers do not wrangle.
When the sweets of office dangle
At a most inviting angle
Be polite.
In the legislative struggle,
When in office safe you snuggle,
Then to jangle or to juggle
Isn't right.


And, O never, never niggle!
Though the vulgar people giggle
When they see a statesman wriggle
To a place.
And, I prithee, never niggle;
With the man who stops to peddle,
For the act upon his head'll
Bring disgrace.


And we ought to take a broad, strong view.
What's the matter if the prospect isn't new?
There is virtue in the viewing.
When it comes to merely doing,
Well, it's really not important what you do.
It's the view
Grand view!
Never let the doing part embarrass you.

When in politics you dabble
Then of course you'll have to babble,
To the vote-possessing rabble
'Tis the game.
When you engineer a shuffle
The ensuing party scuffle
Somebody is sure to ruffl
All the same.

Then be wary; do not temble;
Smile politely and dissemble,
Though your actions do resemble
Somersaults.
When your legislative symbol
Is the tricky pea and thimble
Your manipulations nimble
Are not faults.


But, I charge you, take a strong, broad view.
It is most entrancing when you have the screw.

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Language Of Love

I want your flesh and blood
And to feel your heart pumping hard
I want to tell my story to your eyes
I want to watch you react
To me baby
Maybe Im dreaming
I got to do something
We may be on the same planet
Living in different worlds
Do you speak the language of love
Living in the touch of your fingers
Are you the passionate type
Is this a natural thing
Do you speak the language of love
Second hand emotional trigger
In the devils playground
Hear the church bells ring
I speak the language of love
I speak the language of love
Shes my great obsession
And the girl likes me too
I think she has the wrong impression
She thinks I want to be friends
Maybe Im dreaming
I better do something
We might be on the same planet
But talk different tongues
Do you speak the language of love
Living in the touch of your fingers
Are you the passionate type
Is this a natural thing
Do you speak the language of love
Second hand emotional trigger
In the devils playground
Hear the church bells ring
I speak the language of love
I speak the language of love
She thinks I want to be friends
Maybe Im dreaming
I better do something
We may be on the same planet
Living in different worlds
I speak the language of love
I speak the language of love
Do you speak the language of love
Living in the touch of your fingers
Are you the passionate type
Is this a natural thing
Do you speak the language of love
Second hand emotional trigger

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