The image of myself
I have made…
is part of my environment…
What I see…
while I believe I am in it…
is seen through the eyes…
of this image.
This is not vision.
Images cannot see!
For practical purposes they are like elephants and flowing water.
They follow the shortest, flatest path to wherever they are going, and en route the jagged edges first get smoothed and then get worn away.
In this particular case we are on the path to understanding…
‘Standing Stones of the Druids’
‘STANding sTONes of the DRUids’
There are a number of ‘Stantons’ in England with an attendant ancient site, and for a long time these places were associated with Druids although we now know that they were around a lot earlier than the period normally associated with those infamous ‘Old-Time-Sages’.
This ‘fella’, could easily be a druid, although he could just as easily be a she, in which case one would be tempted to call her a witch.
It is the first stone that greets you at the site.
If you look closely at the first photograph you can see some of the other stones lurking in the background.
On our first visit to this site we were struck by how utterly ‘other’ the stones appeared in relation to their environment.
‘I cried like some grandmother, I wanted to tear my teeth out, I didn’t know what I wanted to do.’ – Walter E.Kurtz, Apocalypse Now.
The ‘Good Colonel’ is here reacting to a particularly distressing, and at first sight vicious and meaningless, act of war.
However, a culture which can organise the systematic removal of the inoculated arms of its children must have a pretty clear conception of where it is at, of precisely what it means to be there, and also of just how to remain in that place.
‘Good Grief, Charlie Brown…’ – Lucy, Peanuts.
Can grief ever be good?
Charles M. Schulz clearly thought so.
The phrase runs like a litany through Charlie Brown’s debut T. V. outing casting noble failure on all his best efforts, and simultaneously highlighting the noble failure of all life to make any kind of a lasting impression.
Sometimes Schulz talks like a prophet and at other times like a lost soul.
With this particular ‘bon mot‘ he talks like both at the same time.
The meta-gag of this same episode is Charlie’s dream of sending the football soaring through the sky.
It never happens.
Lucy always removes the ball at the last.
It is Charlie who soars… to end… lying flat on his back, gazing up at the sky.
A living cadaver capable of pondering its own plight, and ours.
We have the terms ‘a proper Charlie’ and ‘a right Charlie’ for those unfortunates who end up looking like chumps in life’s Divine Comedy.
Are these phrases ‘Chaplin derived’ or much earlier?
King Charles I of England lost his head, and his life, for clinging on to an outmoded principle.
Scotland’s Bonnie Prince ended his life in ignominy and exile but even before that he was a Charlie.
A clown’s name for a clown’s game?
The Divine Right of Kings.
To do what?
To rue the almighty hash the politicians have made of it?
No, not that, simply to rule.
To run the measure over the populace and let ‘the Gods’ or ‘the Fates’ decide, which they do anyway, ultimately…
‘Death’s at the bottom of everything…’ – Major Calloway, The Third Man.