Terrarium living has begun again in earnest in east Alabama.  Here’s something dark and cool.

One imagines himself
addressing his peers
I suppose.  Surely
that might be the definition
of ‘seriousness’?  I would like,
as you see,
to convince
myself
that my pleasure in your response
is not
plain vanity
but the pleasure of being heard,
the pleasure
of companionship, which seems
more honorable.

A couple of weeks early, I suppose.

Here’s a question for you to answer:  What writer (and by that I mean anyone who writes, whether literature, philosophy, history … whatever) do you most wish you could successfully reduplicate as a writer?  So as to make things more interesting, I will rule out the Obvious Answers:  Plato, Shakespeare, etc.  Be sure to also specify why you’ve chosen that writer:  what makes that particular writer the one you chose?  And, just for more fun, supply a characteristic sentence or two from the writer that you take to show or do what you’ve specified.

O good Christ, when thou enteredst unto thy Disciples, the doors being shut, Thomas, who was called Didymus, was not with them. Wherefore, he doubted what was told him. Albeit, thou didst not deem him unworthy for his lack of faith, rather assuring him of faith, by showing him thy pure side, and the wounds in thy hands and feet. Therefore, having sought and beheld, he confessed that thou art an unabstract God, and an unsimple Man, crying, My Lord and my God, glory to thee.

The Disciples, being doubtful, the Savior, after eight days, came to where they were gathered and granted them peace. Then he cried unto Thomas, Come, O Apostle, and probe the two palms which were pierced by the nails. O the delicacy of the beautiful unbelief of Thomas, as coming with the heart of an unbeliever to knowledge, he called out with fear, My Lord and my God, glory to thee.

But although Dewey’s book is incredibly ill written, it seemed to me after several re-readings to have a feeling of intimacy with the inside of the cosmos that I found unequalled.  So methought God would have spoken had He been inarticulate but keenly desirous to tell you how it was.

Here’s a kind comment on my book from Duncan Richter (Language Goes on Holiday).  It is from a few months ago:

By the way, I was reminded of PI 531 by reading Kelly Dean Jolley’s The Concept ‘Horse’ Paradox and Wittgensteinian Conceptual Investigations. I would recommend this book except for the fear that someone might ask me a question about it that I couldn’t answer. It is short but dense, and reminds me of some tea that a friend of mine brought from China. The tea comes in a kind of cake or puck, from which I would carve a wedge or lump to put in the pot. After the tea is made the leaves in the pot expand and come almost to life incredibly, looking a bit like seaweed. My sense is that Jolley’s book is one with which it would be good to be infused.