These guys are breaking my heart!
Thursday, September 20, 2007
Whole Wide World (Cover)!
The technically proficient can't cover this song without ruining it. I think this guy is safe on that count.
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
A Cool Fact!
It's a fact, at least if Perennialist crank Rene Guenon is to be believed:
Both the Chinese and Greek languages designate an indefinite multitude on a cosmic scale by the number ten thousand. So, if you were an ancient Greek or Chinese person and you wanted to talk about an epic battle you were at the day before, you could say:
"Looking across the field, I saw ten thousand men with spears charging towards us."
The Greek word murioi, from which I conjecture the English word "myriad" is descended is used both to designate the number ten-thousand, and also to mean 'an innumerable multitude".
Here is my explanation for why cultures so different as the Chinese and Greek have the same way of speaking.
You may have noticed that, when learning how to count in a foreign language, once you are able to count to ten you've pretty much got counting mastered. From then on it's just a vocab problem of learning the word for twenty and thirty and so on. But, something magical goes on when you learn the names for those first ten numbers. It's like all of counting is contained in them. So, you can never really escape the number ten when you are counting: it's insurpassible.
So, ten has a feeling of completeness and insurpassibility. However, ten is also the gateway to all the rest of the numbers, so it must also have something plenitudinous in its nature. How could we hint at this plenitude and still retain the terminal feeling that ten has? We could take ten to the second power and say "there were a hundred men charging towards me", but this doesn't contain the word ten, so we have lost the feeling of insurpassibility. You kind of want to say, "Oh yeah, why weren't there a hundred and one men charging towards you?"
Moving on, we could take ten to the third power: "there were ten hundred men charging towards me", but this doesn't feel quite right because, in saying "ten hundred"instead of "one thousand", we're making the number seem smaller than it is. One thousand kicks ten hundred's butt!
Now, take ten to the fourth power, and it's magic time baby! None of us can really concieve of a thousand of anything. We could comfortably count one hundred of something without taking a break, but to count to one-thousand of something would be pretty mind numbing. You would begin to say to yourself: "this is too much counting, when will it end?" So, one thousand is a great number for symbolizing plenitude and indefinitude. And notice that in saying "ten-thousand" we haven't lost the feeling of insurpassibility that ten has.
If we took ten to the fifth power, 100,000, then we've left ten behind and are emphasizing the number 100. If we take ten to the sixth power we risk looking like we are exaggerating. It looks like ten thousand is our number!
Both the Chinese and Greek languages designate an indefinite multitude on a cosmic scale by the number ten thousand. So, if you were an ancient Greek or Chinese person and you wanted to talk about an epic battle you were at the day before, you could say:
"Looking across the field, I saw ten thousand men with spears charging towards us."
The Greek word murioi, from which I conjecture the English word "myriad" is descended is used both to designate the number ten-thousand, and also to mean 'an innumerable multitude".
Here is my explanation for why cultures so different as the Chinese and Greek have the same way of speaking.
You may have noticed that, when learning how to count in a foreign language, once you are able to count to ten you've pretty much got counting mastered. From then on it's just a vocab problem of learning the word for twenty and thirty and so on. But, something magical goes on when you learn the names for those first ten numbers. It's like all of counting is contained in them. So, you can never really escape the number ten when you are counting: it's insurpassible.
So, ten has a feeling of completeness and insurpassibility. However, ten is also the gateway to all the rest of the numbers, so it must also have something plenitudinous in its nature. How could we hint at this plenitude and still retain the terminal feeling that ten has? We could take ten to the second power and say "there were a hundred men charging towards me", but this doesn't contain the word ten, so we have lost the feeling of insurpassibility. You kind of want to say, "Oh yeah, why weren't there a hundred and one men charging towards you?"
Moving on, we could take ten to the third power: "there were ten hundred men charging towards me", but this doesn't feel quite right because, in saying "ten hundred"instead of "one thousand", we're making the number seem smaller than it is. One thousand kicks ten hundred's butt!
Now, take ten to the fourth power, and it's magic time baby! None of us can really concieve of a thousand of anything. We could comfortably count one hundred of something without taking a break, but to count to one-thousand of something would be pretty mind numbing. You would begin to say to yourself: "this is too much counting, when will it end?" So, one thousand is a great number for symbolizing plenitude and indefinitude. And notice that in saying "ten-thousand" we haven't lost the feeling of insurpassibility that ten has.
If we took ten to the fifth power, 100,000, then we've left ten behind and are emphasizing the number 100. If we take ten to the sixth power we risk looking like we are exaggerating. It looks like ten thousand is our number!
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Schuon!
No doubt some will say that humanitarianism, far from being materialistic by definition, aims at reforming human nature by education and legislation; now it is contradictory to want to reform the human outside the divine since the latter is the essence of the former; to make the attempt is in the end to bring about miseries far worse than those from which one was trying to escape.
Philosophical humanitarianism under-estimates the immortal soul by the very fact that it overestimates the human animal; it is somewhat obliged to denigrate saints in order to better whitewash criminals; the one seems unable to go without the other.
From this results oppression of the contemplatives from their most tender years: in the name of humanitarian egalitarianism, vocations are crushed and geniuses wasted, by schools in particular and by official worldliness in general; every spiritual element is banished from professional and public life and this amounts to removing from life a great part of its content and condemning religion to a slow death.
The modern leveling — which may call itself "democratic" — is the very antipodes of the theocratic equality of the monotheistic religions, for it is founded, not on the theomorphism of man, but on his animality and his rebellion.
Frithjof Schuon
Philosophical humanitarianism under-estimates the immortal soul by the very fact that it overestimates the human animal; it is somewhat obliged to denigrate saints in order to better whitewash criminals; the one seems unable to go without the other.
From this results oppression of the contemplatives from their most tender years: in the name of humanitarian egalitarianism, vocations are crushed and geniuses wasted, by schools in particular and by official worldliness in general; every spiritual element is banished from professional and public life and this amounts to removing from life a great part of its content and condemning religion to a slow death.
The modern leveling — which may call itself "democratic" — is the very antipodes of the theocratic equality of the monotheistic religions, for it is founded, not on the theomorphism of man, but on his animality and his rebellion.
Frithjof Schuon
Monday, September 17, 2007
The Best Books For Knowing Truth! (Excluding Revealed Books, and Non-Western Books)!
(1) Plato
Duh! Plato's books are good because you have to be super serious about them to come to a defensible position about their assertions. Kant is like that too, at least that's what they say. But the difference is that Kant hurts your head. When you're reading Plato you feel like you're drinking wine or listening to music: you find yourself nodding your head and thinking you understand. You probably do understand, but you're understanding with a part of yourself that's so deep that when you try to articulate it you end up learning more about yourself than about Plato, which aint a bad thing. To learn about Plato and not just about yourself, you have to take yourself less seriously than you do the book, and the deep insight it gives you. I guess that's another difference between Kant and Plato: it's hard not to turn into a conceited jackass reading Kant and it's hard to stay one when you're reading Plato.
(2) Homer
First book ever written! (Okay, I'm no historian, but I'm saying it's the earliest, greatest book. I may need a graph to show what I'm saying) Anyway: First book ever written and what do we find? Homer knows better than all of us sad moderns put together what it means to be a man. Evolution disproved! Devolution a sad reality! To read Homer is to be comfortably alienated from your conception of what it means to be normal.
(3) Aristotle
Allright, this is not an eclectic list, but I'm just being honest. Besides, these Men contain multitudes, so maybe I am being eclectic. Aristotle combines rigor and profundity in a way second only to Plato. Not that I'm anything close to an Aristotelian, (I wrote one crappy paper on him), but maybe I can smell some kinds of greatness a long way off. Aristotle, I salute you from afar! I don't know how he weathers the storm that is modern science, and, what's more, I don't care. But as far as the making of what appear to me to be meaningful arguments about metaphysics, philosophizing, and ethics is concerned, Aristotle is tops!
(4) Frithjof Schuon
I'm going out on a limb here with this one, but this is my honest opinion: If you want to find an author that can show you profound Truth like Plato, Aristotle, or Homer can, then this is who I would point you to. (I'm cringing as I write this). Here is why I'm probably wrong about this:
(a) I can't appreciate books by Thomas Aquinas, Augustine, Martin Luther, or any of the Fathers of the Church I have pretended to read, like I can appreciate Schuon. Given that this puts me in opposition to every other Christian who has ever lived, I can't help but wonder if I might be a little misguided on this one.
(b) What do I know about profound truth anyway?
(c) Frithjof Schuon was Swiss.
(d) None of my friends like him as much as I do, and I have good friends.
Nevertheless, IN MY CRAZY OPINION, Schuon shows modern man one indispensible aspect of reality better than the three Greeks or anyone else: Religion leads to the Truth!
Duh! Plato's books are good because you have to be super serious about them to come to a defensible position about their assertions. Kant is like that too, at least that's what they say. But the difference is that Kant hurts your head. When you're reading Plato you feel like you're drinking wine or listening to music: you find yourself nodding your head and thinking you understand. You probably do understand, but you're understanding with a part of yourself that's so deep that when you try to articulate it you end up learning more about yourself than about Plato, which aint a bad thing. To learn about Plato and not just about yourself, you have to take yourself less seriously than you do the book, and the deep insight it gives you. I guess that's another difference between Kant and Plato: it's hard not to turn into a conceited jackass reading Kant and it's hard to stay one when you're reading Plato.
(2) Homer
First book ever written! (Okay, I'm no historian, but I'm saying it's the earliest, greatest book. I may need a graph to show what I'm saying) Anyway: First book ever written and what do we find? Homer knows better than all of us sad moderns put together what it means to be a man. Evolution disproved! Devolution a sad reality! To read Homer is to be comfortably alienated from your conception of what it means to be normal.
(3) Aristotle
Allright, this is not an eclectic list, but I'm just being honest. Besides, these Men contain multitudes, so maybe I am being eclectic. Aristotle combines rigor and profundity in a way second only to Plato. Not that I'm anything close to an Aristotelian, (I wrote one crappy paper on him), but maybe I can smell some kinds of greatness a long way off. Aristotle, I salute you from afar! I don't know how he weathers the storm that is modern science, and, what's more, I don't care. But as far as the making of what appear to me to be meaningful arguments about metaphysics, philosophizing, and ethics is concerned, Aristotle is tops!
(4) Frithjof Schuon
I'm going out on a limb here with this one, but this is my honest opinion: If you want to find an author that can show you profound Truth like Plato, Aristotle, or Homer can, then this is who I would point you to. (I'm cringing as I write this). Here is why I'm probably wrong about this:
(a) I can't appreciate books by Thomas Aquinas, Augustine, Martin Luther, or any of the Fathers of the Church I have pretended to read, like I can appreciate Schuon. Given that this puts me in opposition to every other Christian who has ever lived, I can't help but wonder if I might be a little misguided on this one.
(b) What do I know about profound truth anyway?
(c) Frithjof Schuon was Swiss.
(d) None of my friends like him as much as I do, and I have good friends.
Nevertheless, IN MY CRAZY OPINION, Schuon shows modern man one indispensible aspect of reality better than the three Greeks or anyone else: Religion leads to the Truth!
Thanks!
I met the man made of gratitude.
He destroyed me with his joy.
I put myself back together.
And now I'm alone.
Hopefully he'll come tomorrow,
And I can thank God with him.
And maybe I'll stay broken
For longer this time.
He destroyed me with his joy.
I put myself back together.
And now I'm alone.
Hopefully he'll come tomorrow,
And I can thank God with him.
And maybe I'll stay broken
For longer this time.
Sunday, September 16, 2007
As Nate and Mom Said: It's One Less Nail To Clip!
This weekend my brother Nate went through the traumatic experience of having the tip of his left middle finger gruesomely mauled by a quickly closing garage door. The doctor had to amputate what was left of the tip. So, my brother has one less joint on that finger. I won't go into details, but his experience would traumatize all but the toughest. He's holding up quite well, all things considered, but, if you will, don't forget him, or our mother, in your prayers tonight.
Hello Friends!
Hello Friends,
I love you all and thank God for all of you. Pray for me and I will for you. There's not much to this life, but to love God. This is hard because we make it hard, and I'm sorry for my part in making it hard. We all have our projects, and our little plans to get the knowledge, money, happiness and power we want. This is good because we're human and made to think. It's bad because we don't think well, or we think well but don't put our thinking into practice. We all have our pettiness, our hatred, our willfull ignorance and congress with evil. But, infinitely more, we have Christ, or maybe I should say He has us. Even when we don't know it well, even if we aren't Christians, we still know this and live off of it (in my view anyway). I wish I was more eloquent, but I don't like this wish. I wish I was a better man, and in Christ I will be!
Love,
Matthew
I love you all and thank God for all of you. Pray for me and I will for you. There's not much to this life, but to love God. This is hard because we make it hard, and I'm sorry for my part in making it hard. We all have our projects, and our little plans to get the knowledge, money, happiness and power we want. This is good because we're human and made to think. It's bad because we don't think well, or we think well but don't put our thinking into practice. We all have our pettiness, our hatred, our willfull ignorance and congress with evil. But, infinitely more, we have Christ, or maybe I should say He has us. Even when we don't know it well, even if we aren't Christians, we still know this and live off of it (in my view anyway). I wish I was more eloquent, but I don't like this wish. I wish I was a better man, and in Christ I will be!
Love,
Matthew
Friday, September 14, 2007
Adios Boys!
Malcolm thought about what it would be like in heaven, on that day when he could cross the river separating the Orthodox from the Catholics. He wrote a little story about it.
“I’m going boys.”
“We want to go with you.”
“But you can’t boys. This ache was mine. The reward is mine, too.”
“But how will you cross?”
“By the cross, my boys. The HMS Stuaron is sailing tonight and I paid for my ticket. I’ll tell you what it’s like over there, if I ever come back.”
“Promise you’ll come back, Malcolm.”
“I promise. And promise me you won’t miss me.”
“We’ll miss you Malcolm, but you know we won’t hurt for a moment.”
“I know, boys. I know. Have I ever told you the story of the day Ellie gave birth to her first child?”
“You’ve told the story, Malcolm, but if it’ll keep you here for a little longer, tell it again.”
“Well, allright boys, but only the short version. I can hear the captain calling, and I can smell the flowers on the other side. Her and Jim had been putting it off for too long, and Ellie wasn’t sure she could get pregnant. But, when she did, her and Jim went out for ice cream. Now, you all know what a fight is, right?”
“We knew once. Tell us again.”
“Well, a fight is when two people love each other too much to be nice. That’s what happened that night when Jim and Ellie got ice cream to celebrate the new little life in her. The fight started when Ellie remarked on being lactose intolerant and that it might hurt the baby if she had too much. Jim had been working so hard to keep Ellie happy, and he wanted a little bit of joy without any worry. He wanted to be up here for a minute and he thought Ellie didn’t want to, or the devil made him think it. But, deep down he knew that she did want to. But, as it tends to go on earth, he went about it all wrong. They fought about ice cream, but it was really about God, see? Well, that new little life in Ellie didn’t mind the ice cream, but the fighting made it feel funny. It got all weak and didn’t want to come out: can’t blame him, can we boys?
“You said it!”
“Anyway, the day that baby was born, it almost didn’t make it. But Ellie looked at Jim, and Jim looked at Ellie, and they just knew that whether the baby made it or not, they were gonna get through it together. See, God and that baby, George was his name, God and that baby used Jim’s mistake to make love stronger.”
“Stop it Malcolm, you’re gonna make us remember how to cry.”
“Aw shucks, boys, tears ain’t nothing but liquid joy. You know that. Take care now, the wind’s gonna be blowin’ hard over here for a bit, and you might hear a little gunplay on the water, but don’t be scared. I hear the Metropolitan and his crew are having a little fun with that new pirate ship they got. Word around the campfire is, they aim to stop me. But we know how that’s gonna go, don’t we boys?”
“Malcolm 1, Clergy 0”.
“Couldn’t-a said it better myself. Adios.”
Excerpted from Life As It Stands And Has Been Standing Since Before The World Was Made: A Prosopography of Minnesota by Samson Swedenmusser
“I’m going boys.”
“We want to go with you.”
“But you can’t boys. This ache was mine. The reward is mine, too.”
“But how will you cross?”
“By the cross, my boys. The HMS Stuaron is sailing tonight and I paid for my ticket. I’ll tell you what it’s like over there, if I ever come back.”
“Promise you’ll come back, Malcolm.”
“I promise. And promise me you won’t miss me.”
“We’ll miss you Malcolm, but you know we won’t hurt for a moment.”
“I know, boys. I know. Have I ever told you the story of the day Ellie gave birth to her first child?”
“You’ve told the story, Malcolm, but if it’ll keep you here for a little longer, tell it again.”
“Well, allright boys, but only the short version. I can hear the captain calling, and I can smell the flowers on the other side. Her and Jim had been putting it off for too long, and Ellie wasn’t sure she could get pregnant. But, when she did, her and Jim went out for ice cream. Now, you all know what a fight is, right?”
“We knew once. Tell us again.”
“Well, a fight is when two people love each other too much to be nice. That’s what happened that night when Jim and Ellie got ice cream to celebrate the new little life in her. The fight started when Ellie remarked on being lactose intolerant and that it might hurt the baby if she had too much. Jim had been working so hard to keep Ellie happy, and he wanted a little bit of joy without any worry. He wanted to be up here for a minute and he thought Ellie didn’t want to, or the devil made him think it. But, deep down he knew that she did want to. But, as it tends to go on earth, he went about it all wrong. They fought about ice cream, but it was really about God, see? Well, that new little life in Ellie didn’t mind the ice cream, but the fighting made it feel funny. It got all weak and didn’t want to come out: can’t blame him, can we boys?
“You said it!”
“Anyway, the day that baby was born, it almost didn’t make it. But Ellie looked at Jim, and Jim looked at Ellie, and they just knew that whether the baby made it or not, they were gonna get through it together. See, God and that baby, George was his name, God and that baby used Jim’s mistake to make love stronger.”
“Stop it Malcolm, you’re gonna make us remember how to cry.”
“Aw shucks, boys, tears ain’t nothing but liquid joy. You know that. Take care now, the wind’s gonna be blowin’ hard over here for a bit, and you might hear a little gunplay on the water, but don’t be scared. I hear the Metropolitan and his crew are having a little fun with that new pirate ship they got. Word around the campfire is, they aim to stop me. But we know how that’s gonna go, don’t we boys?”
“Malcolm 1, Clergy 0”.
“Couldn’t-a said it better myself. Adios.”
Excerpted from Life As It Stands And Has Been Standing Since Before The World Was Made: A Prosopography of Minnesota by Samson Swedenmusser
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Day Planner Sample Page!
8:00 am-8:10 am: Think about God.
8:10 am-8:20 am: Pray.
8:20 am-11:30 pm: Think about myself.
11:30pm-11:40 pm: Pray.
8:10 am-8:20 am: Pray.
8:20 am-11:30 pm: Think about myself.
11:30pm-11:40 pm: Pray.
Breaktime!
I was cleaning a large, new suburban house today before the new owners moved in their furniture. You know the kind of house I'm talking about, right? Cavernous, done up with nice, quirky paint on the inside; the kind of house that, even when it's dirty feels a little too clean; the kind of house where each of the three kids each gets their own personalized room to put their own personal TV and Playstation 3. I was wandering around, tired of wiping up crusty kool-aid from the floor of the fridge. I was looking around the huge empty living room, wondering just how big a couch you would need to make the room look normal, when I broke down and said: I need a break.
I went outside and sat down on the nice new deck and looked at the poor little trees just sitting there in the shadow of these monster houses. There was one scraggly tree, the biggest of the bunch, that had little cherry looking fruits dangling everywhere. Those fruits should have been eaten by someone or something by this time of year. I was feeling bad for myself, and bad for the tree, and just then I heard a voice.
"Please stop looking at me." It was the tree. I could tell because it was waving, but there was no wind.
"Stop looking at you? Why?"
"Don't you know? Trees don't like to be looked at when they're alone."
"But you're not alone. Look, you have two little guys right next to you."
"But I am alone, because I know I'm the best tree in the neighborhood."
"How do you know that?"
"Because I know I'm the biggest.", the tree shook a little like it was sobbing.
"That doesn't make you the best, though."
"That's how it is with us trees: the biggest is the best and the best is the loneliest. That's why we like being in forests, because no-one can tell who the biggest is because everyone is all crowded together."
"Why does being the best make you feel lonely? It should make you feel proud."
"But that's why I feel lonely, because I'm the only one who knows how great our little group of trees is. I'm lonely because I'm proud of us, and there's no-one to tell."
"Well, you just told me."
"Yeah. But you don't count. You're not a tree."
"That's true. Why don't you tell the houses? They used to be trees."
"I can't tell these types of houses anything. Just look at them, you can barely tell one board from another, and there are no big logs jutting out anywhere. They don't even look like wood with all that paint on them."
"Actually, you're pointing at some vinyl siding, but I see what you mean. We didn't used to build houses like this. We used to build log cabins and stuff."
"Oh, don't remind me. Those were the good old days, when a tree would beg the woodcutter to use him for the central beam."
"So I guess humans used to be more important to you guys than they are now."
"Yes. But ever since you started using us to make these crappy houses, we decided you weren't worth much after all."
"I can't blame you, but maybe I can try to correct you a little. We aren't really acting like humans when we do that sort of stuff. We're acting more like demons or something else that's evil and cold. Humans are still really great, it's just there aren't that many humans around anymore."
"Why should I believe you?", I think the tree made a sniffle noise with some of its leaves, or maybe a squirell was swishing around where I couldn't see him.
(To be continued)
I went outside and sat down on the nice new deck and looked at the poor little trees just sitting there in the shadow of these monster houses. There was one scraggly tree, the biggest of the bunch, that had little cherry looking fruits dangling everywhere. Those fruits should have been eaten by someone or something by this time of year. I was feeling bad for myself, and bad for the tree, and just then I heard a voice.
"Please stop looking at me." It was the tree. I could tell because it was waving, but there was no wind.
"Stop looking at you? Why?"
"Don't you know? Trees don't like to be looked at when they're alone."
"But you're not alone. Look, you have two little guys right next to you."
"But I am alone, because I know I'm the best tree in the neighborhood."
"How do you know that?"
"Because I know I'm the biggest.", the tree shook a little like it was sobbing.
"That doesn't make you the best, though."
"That's how it is with us trees: the biggest is the best and the best is the loneliest. That's why we like being in forests, because no-one can tell who the biggest is because everyone is all crowded together."
"Why does being the best make you feel lonely? It should make you feel proud."
"But that's why I feel lonely, because I'm the only one who knows how great our little group of trees is. I'm lonely because I'm proud of us, and there's no-one to tell."
"Well, you just told me."
"Yeah. But you don't count. You're not a tree."
"That's true. Why don't you tell the houses? They used to be trees."
"I can't tell these types of houses anything. Just look at them, you can barely tell one board from another, and there are no big logs jutting out anywhere. They don't even look like wood with all that paint on them."
"Actually, you're pointing at some vinyl siding, but I see what you mean. We didn't used to build houses like this. We used to build log cabins and stuff."
"Oh, don't remind me. Those were the good old days, when a tree would beg the woodcutter to use him for the central beam."
"So I guess humans used to be more important to you guys than they are now."
"Yes. But ever since you started using us to make these crappy houses, we decided you weren't worth much after all."
"I can't blame you, but maybe I can try to correct you a little. We aren't really acting like humans when we do that sort of stuff. We're acting more like demons or something else that's evil and cold. Humans are still really great, it's just there aren't that many humans around anymore."
"Why should I believe you?", I think the tree made a sniffle noise with some of its leaves, or maybe a squirell was swishing around where I couldn't see him.
(To be continued)
Fruitsville!
God's Life is brilliant.
God's Life is brilliant.
God's Love is pure.
I saw an angel.
Of that I'm sure.
She smiled at me on the sidewalk.
She was with another man.
But I won't lose no sleep on that,
Because I've got a plan.
You're beautiful, you're beautiful,
You're beautiful, it's true.
I saw your face, in a crowded place.
And I don't know what to do.
Because I'll never be with you.
She caught my eye, as she walked on by.
She could see from my face that I was flying high.
And I don't think that I'll see her again.
But I saw a beauty that will last 'till the end.
You're beautiful, you're beautiful,
You're beautiful, it's true.
There must be an angel, with a smile on his face,
When he thought up that I should be with you.
But, it's time to face the truth.
I will never be with you.
God's Life is brilliant.
God's Love is pure.
I saw an angel.
Of that I'm sure.
She smiled at me on the sidewalk.
She was with another man.
But I won't lose no sleep on that,
Because I've got a plan.
You're beautiful, you're beautiful,
You're beautiful, it's true.
I saw your face, in a crowded place.
And I don't know what to do.
Because I'll never be with you.
She caught my eye, as she walked on by.
She could see from my face that I was flying high.
And I don't think that I'll see her again.
But I saw a beauty that will last 'till the end.
You're beautiful, you're beautiful,
You're beautiful, it's true.
There must be an angel, with a smile on his face,
When he thought up that I should be with you.
But, it's time to face the truth.
I will never be with you.
Monday, September 10, 2007
Existence is a Rose!
We can no more escape the cross than we can escape Existence. At the root of all that exists, there is the cross. The ego is a downward path drawing man away from God; the cross is a halting of that path. If Existence is "something of God", it is also something "which is not God", and it is this which the ego embodies. The cross brings the latter back to the former and in so doing permits us to overcome Existence.
What makes the problem of Existence so complex is that God shows through everywhere, since nothing could exist outside of Him; what matters is never to be separated from this distant perception of the Divine. And that is why enjoyment in the shadow of the cross is conceivable and even inevitable; to exist is to enjoy, even though it be at the foot of the cross. That is where man must keep himself, since such is the profound nature of things; man can violate this nature only in appearance. Suffering and death are none other than the cross reappearing in the cosmic flesh; Existence is a rose signed with a cross.
-Frithjof Schuon in The Fullness of God: Frithjof Schuon on Christianity pg. 162
What makes the problem of Existence so complex is that God shows through everywhere, since nothing could exist outside of Him; what matters is never to be separated from this distant perception of the Divine. And that is why enjoyment in the shadow of the cross is conceivable and even inevitable; to exist is to enjoy, even though it be at the foot of the cross. That is where man must keep himself, since such is the profound nature of things; man can violate this nature only in appearance. Suffering and death are none other than the cross reappearing in the cosmic flesh; Existence is a rose signed with a cross.
-Frithjof Schuon in The Fullness of God: Frithjof Schuon on Christianity pg. 162
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