Saturday, December 06, 2003

Poem for Saturday


The Snow Storm
By Ralph Waldo Emerson


Announced by all the trumpets of the sky,
Arrives the snow, and, driving o'er the fields,
Seems nowhere to alight: the whited air
Hides hills and woods, the river, and the heaven,
And veils the farmhouse at the garden's end.
The sled and traveler stopped, the courier's feet
Delayed, all friends shut out, the housemates sit
Around the radiant fireplace, enclosed
In a tumultuous privacy of storm.

     Come see the north wind's masonry.
Out of an unseen quarry evermore
Furnished with tile, the fierce artificer
Curves his white bastions with projected roof
Round every windward stake, or tree, or door.
Speeding, the myriad-handed, his wild work
So fanciful, so savage, nought cares he
For number or proportion. Mockingly,
On coop or kennel he hangs Parian wreaths;
A swan-like form invests the hidden thorn;
Fills up the farmer's lane from wall to wall,
Maugre the farmer's sighs; and, at the gate,
A tapering turret overtops the work.
And when his hours are numbered, and the world
Is all his own, retiring, as he were not,
Leaves, when the sun appears, astonished Art
To mimic in slow structures, stone by stone,
Built in an age, the mad wind's night-work,
The frolic architecture of the snow.

--------


My favorite community had a flame war erupt yesterday, where one person made a comment about another person's grammar, and that other person apparently had everyone she know show up to talk about how the community is cliquish, obnoxious, and -- prepare to be shocked -- full of SLASH. I thought her initial point that it was impolite of the person who criticized her grammar to do so in public had merit, and had she expressed it in terms of hurt and surprise rather than reacting like a childish brat, I might even have defended her. But it was pretty much lost under a boatload of OMG U PEPL SUX. Why is it that adults insist on talking like twelve-year-olds while defending themselves on the internet, rather than posting things like, "Gee, I thought that comment about my fic was unnecessarily cruel and inappropriate in a public forum?"

Then this morning the wank and hostility on my Friends list were such that I just stopped reading it. Anger about ROTK, anger about people angry about ROTK, anger about celebrities, anger about other people's quizzes, anger about various things being referred to obliquely yet publicly...I can't take it. Rant away, I am not trying to censor anyone -- I just can't handle that level of anger and negativity right now and am not reading it.

I shall console myself with 's lovely porny gerbil-inspired A/B art, and the view out my window:


View From The Deck

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