in the arsehole of diogenes

NEO-HERACLITUS_____________Qweir Notions in the arsehole of Diogenes: weBlog of a septuagenarian Binge-thinker since February 2008.
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Thursday, 23 March 2017

Donald Trump in 1981.

"Man is the most vicious of all animals,
and life is a series of battles ending in victory or defeat.
You just can't let people make a sucker out of you."

What a pathetic statement!
The first eight words are incontrovertible,
but Mr Trump in his (continuing) naivety
seemed to be unaware of the delightful arts of subterfuge:
blending in with the surroundings, pretending to be "suckers" and hiding in the cracks,
as billions of us do,  even the "vicious" tiger -
striped to merge with the forest shadows...
but a lot of good that has done it - because of the most vicious of animals. 
I think the obviously-unfulfilled Trump is the sucker!


Wednesday, 22 March 2017

We should have known

that The Enlightenment
was a dead end.
Just look at the stupidity
the controlled sterility
of French formal gardens.



Tuesday, 21 March 2017

Psychedelic !

Hairy lobster - Galathea pilosa
Venomous Blue-ringed octopus - Hapalochlaena lunulata.




Monday, 20 March 2017

Heard on the wireless:

Stoic Seneca
was booted out
of Rome
to exile on Corsica
by the Emperor Caligula*.

*Caligula means little boot, because of special miniature military hob-nailed boots made for him when he was a little boy accompanying his father Germanicus on military campaigns.

Sunday, 19 March 2017

One of the many good book-titles

that I have dreamed up in idle moments is this
one for a typical blood-and-sex thriller:
Mr Killer Wants a Kiss.

Saturday, 18 March 2017

Just two of many interesting comparisons.

Whereas
Anglophones have the phrase
to wash one's dirty linen in public
Francophones have
to wash one's dirty linen in private
(rather than in the communal lavoir).

Whereas
Anglophones say
Dog eats dog
Francophones say
Wolves don't eat other wolves.

Thursday, 16 March 2017

Wednesday, 15 March 2017

This is Colorado -



















but it looks strangely like the West of Scotland or Ireland !

(photo by Almina Kaselis)

Tuesday, 14 March 2017

English orthography is much more bizarre than Trump,

            sez Astérix.

"I chaste a flokk of guses this mourning.  
They flue up in the ayr and honked.
I luvd it.
I chaste a kat.
It wuz grait.
I chaste anuther kat.
Whair doe al the kats kum from ?  Thair ar far 2 menny.
Old ladys leeve kruntchees out for strey wuns.
I eet the katz kruntchees.
Mebbe thail dy.
I stoal kreem from the kreemjug.
Ime a grate fello.
Boss luvs me.

Ime boared."


Monday, 13 March 2017

Saturday, 11 March 2017

Before the (Very Interesting) French Presidential Elections

the Political Poster Board has to be cleared from the last election.






















France is so civilised that the fly-posting of political posters is illegal.
Each commune or village has its board, on which all the candidates are pictured
together with their banal slogan.
There is no (USA, Philippines, India-style) television-advertising, either.
My prediction is that Marine le Pen will win, thus upsetting the smug apple-cart
of Western Liberal Values in Europe, and threatening the fake cohesion
of the European Union - of which, I should say, I am an absurdly-keen supporter.


Friday, 10 March 2017

"I'll see myself out"

is a common dramatic
mostly televisual trope
that's rarely heard in actual life
(at least I've never heard it).

My mother used to say
that a coat would "see her out"
meaning that it would outlast her
(as would the planet).

"See myself out" I will -
for the nothingness of death
itself is heaven.

Tuesday, 7 March 2017

On Inner Dialogue.

There is much mention by orientalist new-agers and quasi-mystics
about 'clearing your mind' and 'stopping the inner dialogue' through meditation.
It could be argued that the problems of the world are caused by lack of inner dialogue,
encouraged by the narrow single-mindedness (or indeed mindlessness) of politics and education.
Evil comes from deliberate suppression of thought acting through the thoughtless,
and the banality of evil is sheer human reproductiveness.

Monday, 6 March 2017

It would never be a straw

that would break a camel's back
(as it passed through the Needle's Eye*)
but sheer and terrible fatigue.

[ * The name of a narrow street in Jerusalem.]

Sunday, 5 March 2017

We hate randomness

but whether this is a result of civilisation
or its origin is difficult to judge. It seems to me
that the function of civilisation is to protect
the powerful, "the élites" from randomness
by persuading or forcing, through famine
(which rarely occurs outside civilisation),
the less assertive to be human shields,
and making them believe that their sacrifice
is for the Common Good.

Saturday, 4 March 2017

True failure

is the inability
or unwillingness
to live with our endemic
moral failings.


*** We apologise to our thousands of readers for an absence of blog for the last two days.
This was due to circumstances beyond our control, such as old age, innumeracy, the mild weather, a missing calendar, and the inscrutable but incontrovertible plan of the Great God Astérix.

Wednesday, 1 March 2017

Extract from a Correspondence between Rocky and Asterix


I've decided on a new hobby Gardening. Me and my owner were very busy last week with clearing up the rough ground in the orchard, i.e ivy (which had fallen down during storm 'Doris') and digging up a lot of nettle roots etc. Then we were transplanting some of the plants that were getting waterlogged in the lawn to the newly created space. I was sniffing out good spots for where to put the plants and was very busy directing the wheelbarrow to my chosen places. I think we have done a pretty good job and maybe I'll consider a new career in Canine Gardening (the only thing is all the muck, it makes my paws sooo dirty!)
But it is not so exciting as catching a ball or a Frisbee.

My ears stood up too when I was a puppy. I was very embarrassed when I looked at myself and thought I will never look like a Border Collie. But then bit by bit they dropped down and I was very relieved. Your ears are how they should be and are very lovely.

The weather has been up and down, one day Spring and next day winter. We even had a bit of sleet this morning. Well, it is the last day of Winter, so hopefully Spring will be arriving tomorrow. 

Hope you two are well and look after each other - 

From your Hundefreund Rocky and mein Frauchen und Herrchen



















Liebe Hundefreunde Rokki und Frauchenli + Herrchenli,

Chers ami canin Roqui et ses Parrains (ou parents ?  humans should give birth to more dogs) 

It seems I have been speaking the wrong language.  I am told that I am definitely a Mechelse Herder van Vlaanderen en ijk spreke vlaamse.  C’est à dire un chien Berger Malinois (Malines=Mechelen, a town south of Antwerpen/Anvers). 

I was very impressed by your ears when you were young.  They look even better than mine – perhaps.  (Thanks for the compliment.  I like compliments.  Don’t you admire my tail ?Maybe one of your ancestors came from Belgium or Germany ?  Maybe they are Prussian Ears, very straight and upright and pointed J   

On Saturday I went to the Veterinary Clinic about 10 km away and I met a lovely woman called Huguette.  She is Belgian (Walloon) and she can read books in French, Dutch, German and English, because I saw them on her bookshelf.  She radiates love.  My Driver fell in love with her.  Apparently everyone is in love with her.  She gave me nice tasty meaty-sweeties because I am such a beautiful and good dog.   I have been limping, and she says I may have Arthritis in my right shoulder.  I have been taking Metacam (hidden in lumps of meat, though I’m not supposed to know that), but I am still limping.  I go back tomorrow and may get X-Rayed.  I was nearly an hour with Huguette (who specialises in dogs and pigs – Frau Schweinundhunddoktor ? ; her Dutch partner specialises in funless cats, and an English man specialises in horses and donkeys and big creatures like that) while she weighed me (I am 28 kg, almost half the weight of my Driver and Valet) and examined my gorgeous fur.  

My turds are now firmer and not so wet.   I chased a hen and it died.  Its name was Dolly. 

I too have been helping with gardening.  My Dogsbody (Faktotum – this is Latin, you know) and I dug a hole and he put a plant in it at our Guerrilla Garden just 100 metres away.  I found a dog-turd under one of the plants. I have met a lot of dogs lately, all of them much quieter than those at the Shelter.  There was a very nice lady dog I met this morning who fancied me.  Perhaps she likes male dogs with Very Small Testicles.  (Eierchen ? Schrumpelklöten ?) (On the other hand I have a nice, large  furry willy (Piller, Piepel, Pillermann, Zipfel, Lümmel, Schniedelwutz - nicht nolens volens which is Latin, you know – I am a Highly-Educated Dog and read about Odysseus and Argus and Cerberus and Anubis - amongst others - in my ample spare time) which all the lady dogs and humans can admire.)  Sorry about all the brackets – I hope they don’t confuse a poor Border Collie with Prussian ancestry.

I have to confess that I am as Scaredy as you.  I don’t like anything tubular (walking-stick, kitchen-roll core) nor do I like big plastic bags or frying-pans.  I am also scared of friendly bearded gentlemen if they approach me.  I wonder if they are really friendly, and don’t want to take any risks.  Women with big handbags are dangerous, too. 

I, too, thought Spring might be arriving.  There are violets everywhere.  But today there was rain, and there will be rain tomorrow.  My Dogsbody is pleased because he says there hasn’t been enough rain this winter.  I believe that some dogs  are Scared of rain, but I don’t mind it.  I am a brave dog.  But Thunder is a terrible thing and I have to hide under the table.  Life is full of dangers even when One is Protected by an aged Bearded Factotum – one who does not give me enough food. (I can’t remember when I last ate anything.  His mind is probably away somewhere else hunting kittens or rabbits or even oliphaunts – but not for me!  I am told that dogs are very good for Old Humans with wandering minds, but I have no intention of becoming a Faktotum.)

Here is a picture of me waiting patiently for my dinner…or for a kitten to come and be chased… 

Ever your multilingual and Very Brave Vlaamse Freund - with Erect Ears,


PS My paws never seem to get dirty.  I think they are self-cleaning.

Waiting Patiently for My Dinner - or Something Interesting to Happen.


Tuesday, 28 February 2017

My New Sweetie might seem to some like this:

























But in fact most of his teeth have been worn away by biting the bars of his "Shelter" cage,
He is a total softie who looks like this:

Astérix


























Click here for more photos.





Sunday, 26 February 2017

Outrageous Sexism!

Just think of all the (fake)
blood that has splattered
and gushed and oozed
through the fake world of films -
and none of it menstrual.

Saturday, 25 February 2017

Philosophy and Politics

are the two greatest sources
of obfuscation, confusion and ignorance,
while Economics (from capitalist
to Marxist) ensures
that most people remain enslaved
in one way or another.

Friday, 24 February 2017

False Spring or Climate-change ?

In bloom today
A cowslip
Self-heal
Celandines
A wild strawberry
An early plum or cherry
and many violets.

Yesterday's Nature-photo:

butterfly on a plane-tree,
Sanctuaire de Saint-Pierre-Livron, France.



Wednesday, 22 February 2017

Tuesday, 21 February 2017

The cheapest dye in olden times.

Yellow is the colour
of the piss-poor,
of pus
and the gorse-flower,
of the unpatriotic,
the craven
who cower -
and the burning
sun up in heaven.

Monday, 20 February 2017

Sunday, 19 February 2017

Suicide Postponed

Some years ago I decided
that if I had not killed myself by the age
of three-score years and ten,
I would do so when
I turned 75.
But now that life has become
so enjoyable, and ever more
surreal and funny
in this horribly mad world wherein I hide
(Caylus is so often sunny!),
I seem to have lost my sane desire for suicide.

Saturday, 18 February 2017

Alternative History

VACANCIES
  ROOMS TO LET

        No Brits
        No Cats
      No Whites

Friday, 17 February 2017

Once upon a time

there was this rich bitch
thought she was a princess
and she couldn't get to sleep
on the big thick goose-feather
mattress that rich white folks had
in cold olden times.  Her beautiful black
maid was set to find out why -
and discovered the bitch's pea-sized conscience
under the great fluffy heap.
Her servant had to swallow it
and turn into a beanstalk
so the bitch could get some sleep.

[from Fairy-Tales Deprettified, by A.Wolf]

Thursday, 16 February 2017

Beauty

of the kind that is 'skin deep'
inflames Beastliness.
Better to be "ugly"
like the handsome George Eliot.


Wednesday, 15 February 2017

Tuesday, 14 February 2017

Parents :

People from whom
it is easier to get forgiveness
than permission.

Monday, 13 February 2017

Victor, the famous "Wild boy of Aveyron"

(who had no name
and was found in the département of the Tarn),
Kaspar Hauser and Peter of Hannover
were all speechless, nameless,
and uninterested in money or sex.
Which statistically-insignificant sample
leads me nevertheless to think that
civilisation might be about money and sex.
(But I am prejudiced.)

Sunday, 12 February 2017

The Irish Elk























is - of course - now extinct.

[photo of sculpture in County Down by Bearz]




Saturday, 11 February 2017

After the Fall of the Rebel Angels.

With Satan gone
God got frustrated
eventually went blind
from dribbling out the Milky Way
- and now he's lost
the spiral nebula which was his mind.

Friday, 10 February 2017

I'd like to write

poems so beautiful
the world would smile and weep
before returning to its very troubled sleep.

Thursday, 9 February 2017

In winter-time

I'm Mr White
(with beard to match)
In Spring I'm Mr Green
In Summer I'm Sir A. Fairweather
In Autumn I'm Mr Goldman
And when I venture into town
in Winter I am Mr Brown.

Wednesday, 8 February 2017

Rules are for fools

- and those unspoken
should be broken
judiciously
with exquisite tools.

Tuesday, 7 February 2017

Monday, 6 February 2017

Sunday, 5 February 2017

On Taking Offence

"Just be careful," writes Jindra.
"On this planet calling someone intelligent can be offensive."
Actually...in the US and the UK
"intellectual" is a serious insult.* 
I love being insulted.

*(perhaps based on the record of totalitarian thinkers like Noam Chomsky)

Friday, 3 February 2017

If you're feeling lonely or sad, read this.

click to enlarge


















The Loneliest Whale in the World.

In 2004, The New York Times wrote an article about the loneliest whale in the world.
Scientists have been tracking her since 1992 and they discovered the problem:
She isn’t like any other baleen whale. Unlike all other whales, she doesn’t have friends.
She doesn’t have a family. She doesn’t belong to any tribe, pack or gang.
She doesn’t have a lover. She never had one.
Her songs come in groups of two to six calls, lasting for five to six seconds each.
But her voice is unlike any other baleen whale.
It is unique—while the rest of her kind communicate between 12 and 25hz, she sings at 52hz.
You see, that’s precisely the problem. No other whales can hear her.
Every one of her desperate calls to communicate remains unanswered. Each cry ignored.
And, with every lonely song, she becomes sadder and more frustrated,
her notes going deeper in despair as the years go by.
Just imagine that massive mammal, floating alone and singing—too big to connect
with any of the beings it passes, feeling paradoxically small in the vast stretches of empty, open ocean.

from tumblr

I think there may be too much 'empathy' in the above. 
How can we judge a whale's emotions when we can't judge each other's ?
She may be feeling serene, and her cries may not be 'desperate'...
She may be feeling merely confused - like many mammals may be feeling much of the time.



Thursday, 2 February 2017

Fallaces

sunt rerum species.

Seneca seems to have been the first to write that Appearances are deceptive.
He also wrote:
Non scholae sed vitae discimus - Education should be for life, not for exams.
and:
Otium sine litteris mors est et hominis vivi sepultura - Leisure without literature (and letter-writing) is a living death.


Wednesday, 1 February 2017

Parkour

is not deemed to be a Sport
because it is non-competitive.
It is fun.
Competitiveness destroys fun.
Fun involves play.
Play has been destroyed by Sport.