Showing posts with label Apocalypse. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Apocalypse. Show all posts

Sunday, April 17, 2022

A Litany for What Is Lost

Skull SouthPop BJones
Photo by B. Jones


Some say there were 500 Buddhas Before The Buddha -

That the Buddha was just the one

Who chose to make himself known. 500 Jesuses. 500 Platos. 500 Lao Tzus.


And no Buddha

Ever wrote down a single word. Neither did Jesus

(Well, once in the dust.

But no one ever read it.) Neither did Socrates.


Most of what we have of Aristotle

Are mere lecture notes from his students.

All of his dialogues are lost. All of them. Cicero said,

“They were Rivers of Gold

When compared with Plato's Rivers of Silver”.


Imagine it:


500 Giottos placidly painting houses.

500 Beethovens humming happily to themselves.

500 Shakespeares whispering sonnets only into a solitary lover's ear.


If not for the efforts of Heminge and Condell,

It’s unlikely we would have much Shakespeare at all.

If Thomas Thorpe had not disregarded Shakespeare's intentions, There’d be no Sonnets.

What we have of the entirety of Elizabethan Drama

Is about one sixth of the more than 3000 plays.


The litany goes on:

Fires and the desires of the dying

Have nearly consumed much beauty:

If not for Augustus defying Virgil’s deathbed wish,

The Aeneid would’ve been burned.

Gogol burned the second half of Dead Souls.

Lavinia Dickinson elected to not burn her sister’s poems. Kafka burned most of his work during his lifetime

And asked his friend, Max Brod, to burn the rest. Brod betrayed his friend’s last wish.


What remains,

What we have

Are the merest fragments, fractions, scattered remnants, 

Of the radiance and luminance of human artifact.


We know only those few

Who have come out of the Wood, 

Out of the Wilderness,

Out of the Desert.


More often than not,

What has come down to us,

What we know,

Has made it only by the slightest twists of Fate.


Recently, the story was told

Of the rediscovery of Lucretius' On The Nature of Things. 

If Poggio Bracciolini had not been the right person,

In the right place at the right time

And in the graces of rightest of luck,

It could have easily been otherwise.


Without Lucretius,

A critical catalyst for the Renaissance 

Would have been absent.


Lucretius -

Student of Epicurus,

Disciple of Democritus. 

Lucretius brings me to my point.


I was reading a book on Quantum Theory

Which contained a list of all the lost works of Democritus. 

Not a single work of his survives.


All we know of Democritus

Is through fragments, quotations in other’s writings. 

(Mostly now, in spirit, through Lucretius.)


 To read over that list of what has been lost, is to ache...


Democritus was one of the most influential intellectual figures In the ancient world.

Most now know him best from Natural Philosophy: Everything is made of atoms.

But in his time,

His influence in was profound.

It has been suggested that

If Democritus' works had survived,

His teachings would have eclipsed Plato And reshaped the influence of Christianity.


Regardless, the list of his lost works Is beautiful and sad,

Utterly tantalizing to the imagination. It is its own sort of poem.

Our own Canticle for Leibowitz.


The Lost Works of Democritus


Ethics

Pythagoras

On the Disposition of the Wise Man On the Things in Hades

Tritogenia

On Manliness or On Virtue

The Horn of Amaltheia

On Contentment

Ethical Commentaries


Natural science

The Great World-ordering (may have been written by Leucippus) Cosmography

On the Planets

On Nature

On the Nature of Man or On Flesh (two books) On the Mind

On the Senses

 On Flavours

On Colours

On Different Shapes On Changing Shape Buttresses

On Images

On Logic (three books)


Nature

Heavenly Causes

Atmospheric Causes

Terrestrial Causes

Causes Concerned with Fire and Things in Fire Causes Concerned with Sounds

Causes Concerned with Seeds and Plants and Fruits Causes Concerned with Animals (three books) Miscellaneous Causes

On Magnets


Mathematics

On Different Angles or On contact of Circles and Spheres On Geometry

Geometry

Numbers

On Irrational Lines and Solids (two books) Planispheres

On the Great Year or Astronomy (a calendar) Contest of the Waterclock

Description of the Heavens Geography

Description of the Poles Description of Rays of Light


Literature

On the Rhythms and Harmony

On Poetry

On the Beauty of Verses

On Euphonious and Harsh-sounding Letters On Homer

On Song

 On Verbs Names


Technical works

Prognosis

On Diet

Medical Judgment

Causes Concerning Appropriate and Inappropriate Occasions On Farming

On Painting

Tactics

Fighting in Armor


Commentaries

On the Sacred Writings of Babylon On Those in Meroe Circumnavigation of the Ocean On History

Chaldaean Account

Phrygian Account

On Fever and Coughing Sicknesses Legal Causes

Problems


Saturday, October 13, 2007

Death is the Future: Quae caret ora cruore nostro?


War porn. Footage of training exercises with the paradoxically named Minigun. The predictable Carmina Burana [ thanks elberry ] and heavy metal. And similar to porn, the repeated loops of the "money shots". Extensions of time, slow motion ecstasy, the desire to approach zero, the still point. And the fury of axiomatic intangibility that lurks in the heart of all calculus. What cannot be possessed must be destroyed. With rage. With vengeance. One imagines Achilles in his helicopter, in his Wrath, in his Rage.

Then Hector said, as the life ebbed out of him, "I pray you by your life and knees, and by your parents, let not dogs devour me at the ships of the Achaeans, but accept the rich treasure of gold and bronze which my father and mother will offer you, and send my body home, that the Trojans and their wives may give me my dues of fire when I am dead."

Achilles glared at him and answered, "Dog, talk not to me neither of knees nor parents; would that I could be as sure of being able to cut your flesh into pieces and eat it raw, for the ill have done me, as I am that nothing shall save you from the dogs- it shall not be, though they bring ten or twenty-fold ransom and weigh it out for me on the spot, with promise of yet more hereafter. Though Priam son of Dardanus should bid them offer me your weight in gold, even so your mother shall never lay you out and make lament over the son she bore, but dogs and vultures shall eat you utterly up."

Hector with his dying breath then said, "I know you what you are, and was sure that I should not move you, for your heart is hard as iron; look to it that I bring not heaven's anger upon you on the day when Paris and Phoebus Apollo, valiant though you be, shall slay you at the Scaean gates."

When he had thus said the shrouds of death enfolded him, whereon his soul went out of him and flew down to the house of Hades, lamenting its sad fate that it should en' youth and strength no longer. But Achilles said, speaking to the dead body, "Die; for my part I will accept my fate whensoever Jove and the other gods see fit to send it."

- Iliad, Book XXII, Butler trans.




‘Anger’ is the first word of Western literature. ‘Sing, goddess, the wrath of Achilles’ is the opening prayer of Homer’s Iliad, but in the original Greek, the word mhˆnin, ‘wrath’ or ‘anger’, comes first, in the place of emphasis. The anger of Achilles is the central theme of our civilisation’s first and most powerful epic.

- Excuses for Madness, M.F. Burnyeat




War is conducted by the blind justice of necessity - nemesis. Master becomes slave and slave becomes master; it is only a question of time, a time deprived of the future. "For those whose spirits have bent under the yoke of war, the relation between death and future is different than for other men. For other men death appears as a limit set to the future; for them, however, death is the future (...) Regularly, every morning, the soul castrates itself of aspiration, for thought cannot journey through time without meeting death on the way." (A...) Thus, thought is immobilized in the present. War turns people into living corpses (still living, living in the "still"). The unbearable, never-ending, and always-beginning pain presents them with the only possible vision of deliverance. It appears:

...in an extreme and tragic aspect, the aspect of destruction. Any other solution, more moderate, more reasonable in character, would expose the mind to suffering so naked, so violent that it could not be borne, even as memory. Terror, grief, exhaustion, slaughter, annihilation of comrades - is it credible that these things should not continually tear at the soul, if the intoxication of the force had not intervened to drown them? The idea that an unlimited effort should bring it only a limited profit or no profit at all is terribly painful (...) If the existence of the enemy has made a soul destroy in itself the nature put there, then the only remedy the soul can imagine is the destruction of the enemy. At the same time the death of dearly loved comrades arouses a spirit of somber emulation, a rivalry in death. (A...)

The passion of injured time is the desire for extermination and suicide. Here, moderation is foolishness. A realm beyond force does not exist.
- Simone Weil – Love and Language by Piotr Graczyk [ pdf ]




Roof of the Rex, ground zero, men who looked like they'd been suckled by wolves, they could die right there and their jaws would work for another half-hour. This is where they asked you, 'Are you a Dove or a Hawk?' and 'Would you rather fight them here or in Pasadena?' Maybe we could beat them in Pasadena, I'd think, but I wouldn't say it, especially not here where they knew that I knew that they really weren't fighting anybody anywhere anyway, it made them pretty touchy. That night I listened while a colonel explained the war in terms of protein. We were a nation of high-protein, meat-eating hunters, while the other guy just ate rice and a few grungy fish heads. We were going to club him to death with our meat; what could you say except, 'Colonel, you're insane'? It was like turning up in the middle of some black looneytune where the Duck had all the lines. I only jumped in once, spontaneous as shock, during Tet when I heard a doctor bragging that he'd refused to allow wounded Vietnamese into his ward. 'But Jesus Christ,' I said, 'didn't you take the Hippocratic Oath?' but he was ready for me. 'Yeah,' he said, 'I took it in America.' Doomsday celebs, technomaniac projectionists; chemicals, gases, lasers, sonic-electric ballbreakers that were still on the boards; and for back-up, deep in all their hearts, there were always the Nukes, they loved to remind you that we had some, 'right here in-country.' Once I met a colonel who had a plan to shorten the war by dropping piranha into the paddies of the North. He was talking fish but his dreamy eyes were full of mega-death.

Michael Herr, Dispatches [ via ]




It is well that war is so terrible;
else we would grow too fond of it.

--Robert E. Lee, U.S. general.
Said to another general during the battle of Fredericksburg (1862).




I've seen horrors... horrors that you've seen. But you have no right to call me a murderer. You have a right to kill me. You have a right to do that... but you have no right to judge me. It's impossible for words to describe what is necessary to those who do not know what horror means. Horror. Horror has a face... and you must make a friend of horror. Horror and moral terror are your friends. If they are not then they are enemies to be feared. They are truly enemies. I remember when I was with Special Forces. Seems a thousand centuries ago. We went into a camp to inoculate the children. We left the camp after we had inoculated the children for Polio, and this old man came running after us and he was crying. He couldn't see. We went back there and they had come and hacked off every inoculated arm. There they were in a pile. A pile of little arms. And I remember... I... I... I cried. I wept like some grandmother. I wanted to tear my teeth out. I didn't know what I wanted to do. And I want to remember it. I never want to forget it. I never want to forget. And then I realized... like I was shot... like I was shot with a diamond... a diamond bullet right through my forehead. And I thought: My God... the genius of that. The genius. The will to do that. Perfect, genuine, complete, crystalline, pure. And then I realized they were stronger than we. Because they could stand that these were not monsters. These were men... trained cadres. These men who fought with their hearts, who had families, who had children, who were filled with love... but they had the strength... the strength... to do that. If I had ten divisions of those men our troubles here would be over very quickly. You have to have men who are moral... and at the same time who are able to utilize their primordial instincts to kill without feeling... without passion... without judgment... without judgment. Because it's judgment that defeats us.

- Colonel Walter E. Kurtz, Apocalypse Now


Tuesday, January 30, 2007

Gunkanjima

Via Digg and Flickr:


75-f, originally uploaded by wichenroder.





71-f, originally uploaded by wichenroder.





90-f, originally uploaded by wichenroder.




From Wikipedia:
Hashima Island (端島; meaning "Border Island"), commonly called Gunkanjima (軍艦島; meaning "Battleship Island") is one among 505 uninhabited islands in the Nagasaki Prefecture about 15 kilometers from Nagasaki itself. The island was populated from 1887 to 1974 as a coal mining facility. The island's most notable features are the abandoned concrete buildings and the sea wall surrounding it.

"Battleship Island" is an English translation of the Japanese nickname for Hashima Island, "Gunkan-jima". The island's nickname came from its apparent resemblance to a battleship, or "gunkan" (jima/shima meaning island) due to its high sea-walls. It also is known as the Ghost Island. It is known for its coal mines and their operation during the industrialization of Japan. Mitsubishi bought the island in 1890 and began the project, the aim of which was retrieving coal from the bottom of the sea. They built Japan's first large concrete building, a block of apartments in 1916 to accommodate their burgeoning ranks of workers, and to protect against typhoon destruction.

In 1959, its residential area population density was 337 people per acre, or 83,476.2 inhabitants per km², supposedly the highest population density ever recorded worldwide.

The movie "Midori Naki Shima" ("The Greenless Island", 1949) was shot there. It was also the setting for the final level in the video game Killer7.

As petroleum replaced coal in Japan in the 1960s, coal mines began shutting down all over the country, and Hashima's mines were no exception. Mitsubishi officially announced the closing of the mine in 1974, and today it is empty, bare, which is why it's called the Ghost Island. Travel to Hashima is currently prohibited.