The poem of me from yesterday
Is not that which I am today
In many ways they may resemble
But don't be fooled by what I say
Look closely at what you hear
Listen with more than just an ear
The poem of me from yesterday
Is not that which I am today
You think that you may know me
By the words I rhyme and sing
You think that you may know me
But of me you know not a thing
The poem of me I once sang for you
Then may have had lyrics true
But with each new day the words decay
And of that me from then -- I bade adieu
Since I have a lot of time on my hands, I spend much of it (hey, I am a capitalist — spending is what I do) reading articles on the web. While I’ll read just about anything I happen upon, most of what I seek to read involves literature, politics, current events, and, as t’is the season of the warmth-seeking rodents, the intricacies involved in the extermination care and feeding of the mus musculus. And, as I’m sure anyone who’s done even the most cursory of web reading can imagine, most of what I read is just pure blather…100° proof; however, as most of you (and by most (what’s with all the mosts?) I mean the one or two of the three regular readers of this site (one of whom is me)) know, blather is my specialty so I pretty much dig it…the higher piled the better.
In addition to the intricacies involved in the extermination care and feeding of the many snow shy mus musculus now snuggled warm and carefree throughout my home, I’ve also been reading lately about irony (see the german links below). Let me tell ya, there are some rather heady, profound philosophical conceptualizers out there coming up with some rather heady, (did I say german? I meant germane not german! see the germane links below) profound philosophical concepts revolving around the term, meaning…I don’t understand most of what I’ve read about it.
Consequently, it’s hard for me to get my less than profound head wrapped around these profound philosophical concepts.
No matter how many times I look up the meaning of irony, I can never remember exactly what it is whenever I’m in a situation when I need to prove my understanding of the concept. If I don’t really know what it means, how can I confidently, and safely, do irony?
And based upon my wary observations of all the many ironic hipsters running around loose and carefree (as my homey mus musculus) lately, it appears I am not the only one who does not quite have a necessary grasp on its meaning.
Okay, but who really cares, right? I mean, when does one ever really need to know the meaning of irony?
Other than teacher’s having to explain it to students (who will forget its meaning mere seconds after being taught), the only real life example I can come up with off the top of my head for when there was a true need to know the meaning of irony is when Lelaina Pierce, Winona Ryder’s character in Reality Bites, is asked to define it as part of a job interview.
Spoiler alert: She fails miserably and does not get the job. Worse yet, when she explains her unfortunate failure to her love interest Troy Dyer (had this movie been set in the Seventies he would have been a Hippie. Had it been set in the Naughts or the Nows he would have been a Hipster. However, it was set in the Nighties which meant he was nothing more than an annoyance (which is synonymous with Hippie and Hipster) who didn’t even have the decency to be full on Grunge), played by the most ironic of actors, Ethan Hawke (I really don’t have any facts to back this ironic claim up with (heck, as I’ve already confessed, I’m not even really sure how to appropriately apply irony) but if there ever were to be an ironic actor it would have to be he…), who, when asked if he could define irony, of course prattles rattles it off like a boss…as ironic as that may sound (That does sound ironic, right? A slacker like Troy being a boss? Situational Irony, perhaps? I’m so confused…).
So yeah, I don’t think one scene from a trite Nineties movies – even one that has come to define my generation (or…is it Breakfast Club that defines my generation? I’m so confused…) – qualifies as a good example of when there is a true need for having to know the meaning of irony.
Ergo, we probably don’t need to know the meaning of irony. I mean, I’m pretty sure most of us could lead near normal lives (however normal may be defined in this undefined day and age) without ever even having to once consider the concept’s existence.
Besides, there’s sarcasm. It more than adequately meets our needs. And better yet, everyone pretty much understands it, if not in its definition then surely in its application.
So who cares about irony?
No one.
No one but the ones that no one else cares much about, that is…
Well, teachers care about irony, job security and all, and we care about teachers; but mostly I was referring to all the ironic Hipsters running around loose and carefree.
Who cares about them?
Not me, that’s who.
— THE END —
Ah, but heck, for argument’s sake, and for the sake of this ironic post (well, ironic in the sense that it’s a post about irony, not in that its a post full of irony…well, unless there’s irony in the fact that I’m attempting to illuminate the concept of irony here and, instead of me being a floodlight of understanding, it appears I forgot to put the batteries in my flashlight of knowledge… Yeah, that was bad. But you know what? That painfully dull metaphor just may in fact be irony… Right? Oh boy… ), let’s say there is, in fact, a need for irony.
Poof! There is a need for irony.
Okay, since we’ve now established the fact that there is a need for irony, does that mean that everyone has a need for irony?
I mean, would a Third World Kid picking through the pile of trash in search of dinner ever have a need for irony? Perhaps at some point in his or her miserable life this kid might realize that life, just about all of it, is mostly ironic in the sense that outcomes rarely match expectations.
But is understanding that ironic concept going to help fill his or her belly?
Nope. Not even with one tiny little morsel of hope.
But knowing that concept and applying it effectively in, let’s say, an “artistic” environment just might fill a belly or two, that’s for certain.
If the act of living is mostly ironic as the poor, unfortunate Third World child one day may or may not come to realize, good god, how many times more ironic can The Arts then be? When I think about all the art created over time by all the artists of whom the world will never know…wow…to me that is irony of the purest kind.
Just as is a painting of a conceptualized aspect of life, one which the “altruistic artist” surely humbly pained over purely and only for Art’s sake in an effort to help us better understand the irony of our ironic lives, selling for millions of dollars.
That would fill an altruistic artist belly or two, no?
No, indeed.
And by “no” I mean hell yes.
Now that there is some Premo Irony…100° proof.
C’mon, the conundrum of irony is purely a First World Conundrum, a conundrum which can only be understood and appropriately applied within the context of abundance.
Yeah, we surely don’t need irony but is sure seems we want it. And as much of it as we can get our needy little hands on.
Irony is our step ladder to our superior place in this world.
Whether you like it or not.
So my advice to you then is, embrace your privilege and the irony it affords you and, whenever you see a striving ironic hipster, instead of succumbing to the urge to punch him in the face, smile kindly, pat him knowingly and condescendingly on the head, and see him safely on his ironic, privileged, loose and carefree way.
For his way is our own.
– THE END (for real) –
Postscript:
But, like I said earlier, no matter how much I read and discuss about all this irony stuff, I am never really sure I understand it.
Let’s just say I’m much more comfortable in a practical, hands on vice heads on environment.
So, in the spirit of practical applicability and to see if I have been able to absorb even a little bit of what I have read/discussed, I am going to attempt to practice applying irony in an understandable (at least to me) and practical way.
From now on, if I read an article and/or post of any sort (wordpress, facebook, twitter, cereal box, etc.) and I don’t comment, “like,” or tweet it, it could be because not that I don’t like it, but because I DO like it.
Inversely, if I read an article and/or post of any sort and I do comment, “like,” or tweet it, it could be because…well, you know…more applied irony.
So, I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind stopping by every once in a little while or more and give a little of your own love in return.
I was wondering if you could read over the submissions in these features and, you know, “Like” those that you like. You know, give those Authors and Poets and Artists, all those Creators of the Sublime, a little support because, let’s face it, it can get a little scary putting our stuff out there like that in the open, all exposed and vulnerable like…
It takes a lot of courage sometimes to be original, to dare to be different and to be exceedingly loud and proud about it…
Yeah…
Can you do that for me?
Great.
Oh yeah…one other thing since you’re already here.
There are a lot of strange and interesting and wonderful and sad and scary things going on all around this petulant little planet of ours…
And I would love to know what your take is on all of it.
I mean…just look at all that is happening right now that will be defining this period of our lives – this Is of our collective Now – for years to come.
I mean…
Ferguson? How can something as tragic as what’s going on down there still possibly be?! I am very concerned about what could happen as a result of the forthcoming grand jury decision.
ISIS? I cannot even begin to get my head around that level of evil. But, really, what are all the historical drivers behind that beheading madness?
Russia and Ukraine? What in the fracas is going on over there?! I mean, it’s like déjà vu all over again, to quote that ever-prescient and wisely wry yogi-like Yogi of a Yankee guy…
Man*…
And that’s not even the tip of the terrible and towering iceberg…
It’s more like a minutely miniscule drop of condensation floating gas-like in the air looking for an iceberg to become…
So so much is going on right now…
So yeah, I was wondering…what do you think about all this madness of a mess that is happening Right. Now.?
I would love to know…
And not just because I’m an inquisitive querying kind of guy…
Which I def am…
But also because I believe you just might have the key…
That golden kernel of Karmic Truth…
That wise Way of how this wonderful world should wax…
Tucked right inside that magic of a marvelous mind of yours.
And, you know what…
I kind of feel it is incumbent upon you to share that wisdom with us.
You.
You have the responsibility for allowing us to know what it is You know to be true.
So we can, like you, be a better We like You.
I believe that.
Truly I do.
So please please please, share your Wiseness with us by submitting something, anything, to one of the Relating to Humans features.
And if you got something that just doesn’t seem to fit with any of the features already profiled…
Then hit me up through the Contact page and let me know.
Perhaps we can create a new Feature just to feature all of your amazing and fabulous features.
I saw an oh-so-true meme (or whatever those little poster-thingies are that mostly gush with quirky sayings…and cats) bouncing around the internet the other day that said something to the effect:
I still think the Nineties were a decade ago
What the heck?
And they aren’t?
Anyway…
It was the Cranberries.
The group just popped into my head a couple of minutes ago for whatever reason and got me to thinking about all this Nineties stuff.
They were there – killing it – and then they were gone.
I remember they broke up over something as seriously silly (and a bit redundant when put into the context of this sentence) as a break up…
Something like the lead singer’s boyfriend dumped her and she became unraveled?
I guess I could activate the google side of my brain for the real truth.
But I’m more content with the less-accurate but comfortably fuzzy memories right now.
Anyway, here’s one of their hits from, oh I don’t know, a year or two ago maybe…
Imagine how miserable life would be if we were constantly aware of our own mortality; if each day we awoke wondering if it would be our last; if each step we took worried us that it was bringing us one step closer to our end.
How stressful would that be?
If that were so, if we couldn’t help but be aware of our limited time on earth, would life even be worth living?
Hardly.
I mean, if that were the case, if we did lead lives in constant fear of death, then why even try?
To live a miserable life like that couldn’t possibly be healthy.
I mean, if we were constantly in fear of death, our life expectancy would surely suffer as a result, right?
A self-fulfilling prophecy.
The Universal Law of Attraction.
I mean, it only seems natural that if we think negative things then we attract negative things and if we attract negative things then negative things are bound to happen to us, right?
Lead author Frieder R.Lang said: ‘Our findings revealed that being overly optimistic in predicting a better future was associated with a greater risk of disability and death within the following decade.
‘Pessimism about the future may encourage people to live more carefully, taking health and safety precautions.’
If true, if pessimists do live longer lives than optimists, that should make even the most miserable among us a little happier, no?
Who knows?
Still, my gut tells me that negativity breeds negativity and, in the long run, that can’t be healthy.
Again, who knows?
But maybe if put within a different context, this live-longer-through-pessimism way of thinking might make a bit more sense.
For instance, today we celebrate Earth Day.
For one day out of the year, we are kind of forced to consider the life of our planet.
Kind of.
But what if we were constantly aware of it, and constantly at worry over it?
Our planet’s health.
And its mortality.
Would it matter?
Would our awareness and worry result in a healthier, longer-living planet?
How many of us worry about the future of the Earth?
I mean really worry.
How many of us stop to think and to fret that each time we start our car, each time we let the faucet run while brushing our teeth, each time we toss those spent batteries into the trash, each time we crank up the A/C, that we may in fact be facilitating the death of our planet?
I know I don’t.
I try…sometimes.
But it’s hard to worry about the planet.
It’s hard to be constantly conscientious of my environmental impact.
It really is inconvenient.
Which is why I’m not an environmentalist, I guess.
But maybe, if the study that says pessimists live longer than optimists is even a little bit true, then maybe, at least in regards to the life of our planet, we all should worry about our Earth just a little bit more and be a bit less optimistic about its future.
In Japan, today is the forty-ninth day since the death of my mother-in-law, “Mother,” “Okaa-san,” “Obaa-chan,” Seiko. Today is a special day where, in Buddhist ceremony and belief that on the forty-ninth day after passing the soul is no longer bound by karma, Seiko’s ashes can now be permanently interred. Unlike her funeral ceremony where many of Seiko’s family and friends and admirers attended to show their love and respect for her, today’s ceremony is a smaller, family-focused occasion.
How I wish I could be there with the family today to also show my love and respect for her, and to be closely surrounded by them all during this time.
But I cannot. So I think fondly of her and I pray for her and I pray that the pain of her passing will quickly ease for those of us who love and miss her so.
Seiko embodied and lived the values and qualities in character and of action that I wish I possessed as an individual and that I wish I had been able to live throughout my life.
I would have liked to have drawn a picture of her to include here, however, no matter how hard I try, I find that my eyes are too bad now and my hands shake too much that my efforts to capture her beauty, not just her physical beauty, for that she certainly had, and for which her daughter, my wife, also possesses in a very close likeness of her mother, but mostly it is Seiko’s spiritual beauty, which was profound and deep, that, regardless how well my eyes can focus or how steady my hands can draw, I am unable to, nor would ever be able to, capture in one of my feeble drawings.
So I share my loving memory of Seiko in a poem, a poem that falls well short of capturing the good and positive life that she lived, a life which touched and comforted so many in so many different, known and unknown, ways, but a poem which, nonetheless, comes closet to expressing my feelings and my love for her.
Seiko, may God continue to, and forever bless you with Eternal Peace, Happiness, and Love.
Like Incense, You Burned
Like incense, you burned
true, steady, reliably,
patiently purifying the world around you
with a bright, burning intensity and passion
and unending purpose
that only the gods could comprehend.
Like incense, you burned,
not for yourself but for life,
all of it.
You burned with love for each of us,
for everyone.
You burned with a love that transcended all boundaries
and all languages,
a love that transcended space and time.
Like incense, you burned,
and as you did
your presence permeated its surroundings
and filled it with your sweet soothing sensitive balm,
a healing balm,
a mystical balm,
a beautifully fragrant balm that will last and linger deep within the senses
and the soul of the universe
for all eternity.
In 2001, after reading all the hype and controversy, as well as the fawning reviews of Jonathan Franzen’s THE CORRECTIONS, I thought to myself that I need to read this new It Author and made plans to rush out and buy the book. But for some reason I never did and I soon forgot about both the book and the author. I must confess, I’ve always had a hard time keeping up with literature’s contemporary writers. Heck, I have a hard enough time just trying to chip away at all of the classic literary must reads that are out there and, because I never really feel like I’m reading enough, I live with a constant feeling that I’m always a bit behind in life. Perhaps I need some couch time with Dr. Phil.
I do remember thinking to myself somewhere around mid-decade that there was once some writer that I really wanted to read, but I just couldn’t remember his name no matter how hard I tried. However, after reading the gushing reviews of Franzen’s long-awaited book FREEDOM, I finally remembered that it was his book THE CORRECTIONS that I had wanted to read so long ago. So, with that euphoric feeling of finally remembering something that had been on the tip of my tongue for a decade, I immediately rushed out to get a copy of THE CORRECTIONS before I forgot about it once again.
I got it, I read it, and yes, I agree Jonathan Franzen is an amazing writer. He deserves all of the hype he has received. And, perhaps because he has been placed in a category of elite writers few have or will every reach, maybe he even deserves the hostility and parodying that he has also received…or maybe I’m just jealous. Man, woman, or beast, whoever can write like Franzen can deserves to be the It Author of the decade in my opinion.
There are many better reviews about THE CORRECTIONS out there than I could ever write so all I’ll say is that the book is a sad, funny, and often psychologically wrenching story about a dysfunctional Midwestern family where, like the inevitable and often unexpected, and sometimes shattering, corrections that stock markets suffer from when they become unnaturally distorted or bloated, each member of this scattered and failing family is in need of his or her own life correction.
Coupled with his fluid writing style, perfect dialogue, and his ability to weave into the story his broad knowledge of the general mechanics of life in general, Franzen continually blew me away with his deep understanding of all the many different flavors of human nature and personality types. You will have to read the book to understand what I’m talking about here. He’s good.
The biggest fault of the book is perhaps a result of just how good Franzen is. He had so much to say that at times the story overwhelmed me with too much background and too much delving into the whys and hows the characters had turned out like they did. From time to time, I had to take a break from the book and walk it off.
Okay, so I’m ten years late to the party but I finally read THE CORRECTIONS and I’m glad I did. If you haven’t read it yet, I recommend that you do. And once the massive hold queue for FREEDOM thins out at the library and my turn finally comes up, I plan on reading it, too. I just hope it doesn’t take me another ten years and having to overcome a bout of forgetfulness before I finally do.
, I thought to myself that I need to read this new It Author and made plans to rush out and buy the book. But for some reason I never did and I soon forgot about both the book and the author. I must confess, I’ve always had a hard time keeping up with literature’s contemporary writers. Heck, I have a hard enough time just trying to chip away at all of the classic literary must reads that are out there and, because I never really feel like I’m reading enough, I live with a constant feeling that I’m always a bit behind in life. Perhaps I need some couch time with Dr. Phil.
, I finally remembered that it was his book THE CORRECTIONS that I had wanted to read so long ago. So, with that euphoric feeling of finally remembering something that had been on the tip of my tongue for a decade, I immediately rushed out to get a copy of THE CORRECTIONS before I forgot about it once again.