Tuesday, March 08, 2005
From The Mouth Of Hell: There And Back Again
At the risk of interrupting the flow of today's posts as they confront the central matter of living worthy lives in in a decent, self-governing society, let me take a moment to recommend a visit to The Heretik, a recent occasional guest in our comments section, who, in addition, has one terrific website of his own.
Let me simultaneously disclose and disclaim: my enthusiasm for The Heretik is in no way connected to the fact that he was kind enough to link to a post of mine as part of one of his current...series/obsessions, "Uppity Women," which refers, by and large, to his on-going riff on the strong women who make up the community of female bloggers.
I say "by and large" because words in the hands of The Heretik are both precise and elastic, and always to be played with, as in TheEstrogenatedElite, another heading he uses for specific examples of feminine excellencies, while "Uppity Women" is used also to shelter the story of Sophie Scholl, she of The White Rose, the symbol of non-violent resistence in Nazi Germany; Sophie's execution at the age of twenty-two may be considered tragic, but her story can never be, as long as human memory keeps it alive, which, with help from his bud, Badtux, the Snarky Penguin, the Heretik is doing by sort of falling in love with Sophie, or perhaps the idea of Sophie, but who amongst us would object to having the idea of ourselves last beyond the confines of the life of the body?
I suspect that The Heretik, as he insists on referring to himself, like The Moose, usually in the third person, is a poet. (I don't know if this third person blogging is a trend, but I don't mean to minimize the contrast between the tone of the admirable "Moose," and that of the more radical "Heretik," whose own conceit it is that he is blogging from the mouth of hell>)
My evidence for this supposition is to be found mainly in The Heretik's language, the delight and playfulness therein, plus the fact that one of his recomendations in his sidebar is a book of poems by Billy Collins, a poet not nearly well known enough except among other poets and avid poetry readers, among whom I count myself, this despite having been our Poet Laureate for a spell,(the only good appointment made under Bush-fils so far as I can tell).
There is also an actual poem, several in fact, all quite good, posted by someone with the same name as whoever it is that reminds us on the site's main page that the content therein is copyrighted material. In fact, "tm"s appear through-out the blog, not meant as jokes, I think, but surely meant to amuse, as they do. Here's one example:
If that doesn't whet your appetite, check your pulse, you might be dead. This is a fairly new blog, so there's only a month and a half of archives; my recommendation, start at the beginning and enjoy it all.
PLEASE NOTE: Edited for an egregious error of diction.
Let me simultaneously disclose and disclaim: my enthusiasm for The Heretik is in no way connected to the fact that he was kind enough to link to a post of mine as part of one of his current...series/obsessions, "Uppity Women," which refers, by and large, to his on-going riff on the strong women who make up the community of female bloggers.
I say "by and large" because words in the hands of The Heretik are both precise and elastic, and always to be played with, as in TheEstrogenatedElite, another heading he uses for specific examples of feminine excellencies, while "Uppity Women" is used also to shelter the story of Sophie Scholl, she of The White Rose, the symbol of non-violent resistence in Nazi Germany; Sophie's execution at the age of twenty-two may be considered tragic, but her story can never be, as long as human memory keeps it alive, which, with help from his bud, Badtux, the Snarky Penguin, the Heretik is doing by sort of falling in love with Sophie, or perhaps the idea of Sophie, but who amongst us would object to having the idea of ourselves last beyond the confines of the life of the body?
I suspect that The Heretik, as he insists on referring to himself, like The Moose, usually in the third person, is a poet. (I don't know if this third person blogging is a trend, but I don't mean to minimize the contrast between the tone of the admirable "Moose," and that of the more radical "Heretik," whose own conceit it is that he is blogging from the mouth of hell>)
My evidence for this supposition is to be found mainly in The Heretik's language, the delight and playfulness therein, plus the fact that one of his recomendations in his sidebar is a book of poems by Billy Collins, a poet not nearly well known enough except among other poets and avid poetry readers, among whom I count myself, this despite having been our Poet Laureate for a spell,(the only good appointment made under Bush-fils so far as I can tell).
There is also an actual poem, several in fact, all quite good, posted by someone with the same name as whoever it is that reminds us on the site's main page that the content therein is copyrighted material. In fact, "tm"s appear through-out the blog, not meant as jokes, I think, but surely meant to amuse, as they do. Here's one example:
The Heretik Presents SHOWTIME FOR SCHADENFREUDE (sic)AND OTHER McKRAP tm Updated Throughout The DayThe Heretik has a wordsmith's way with fractured catch phrases, i.e., "Misinformed Sources," and "Minister of Proper Gander;" he also has an admirable on-going interest in "Malcolm," for just one example, here, (c'mon you know who I mean, not that twit in the middle, there's only one Malcolm, the one with the X after his name), and then there's a real reportorial exclusive, occasional excerpts from a diary kept by Condi herself.
If that doesn't whet your appetite, check your pulse, you might be dead. This is a fairly new blog, so there's only a month and a half of archives; my recommendation, start at the beginning and enjoy it all.
PLEASE NOTE: Edited for an egregious error of diction.
