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The word of the sweetest song and all songs... 19 days until my birthday! |
Wednesday, April 21, 1999 Whitman "THE ROUNDED CATALOGUE DIVINE COMPLETE"
The countless (nineteen-twentieths) low and evil, crude and savage The crazed, prisoners in jail, the horrible, rank, malignant, Venom and filth, serpents, the ravonous sharks, liars, the dissolute; (What is the part the wicked and the loathesome bear within earth's orbic scheme?) Newts, crawling things in slime and mud, poisons, The barren soil, the evil men, the slag and hideous rot.
The fascinating thing about Whitman is the way he's able to be downright cheerful on matters most people would be writing dirges about. Heck, even when he is writing a dirge, it comes out positive:
Come lovely and soothing death,
Prais'd be the fathomless universe, (from "When Lilacs Last in the Dooryard Bloom'd.")
AS I WATCH'D THE PLOUGHMAN PLOUGHING
As I watch'd the ploughman ploughing,
Yes, the latest school shooting is on my mind. I found out about it through a Diary-L flame war just before uploading yesterday's entry, and, for a moment, considered not uploading it at all. The tone seemed wrong. But life goes on. Whitman helps. I'm going off to read "Out of the Cradle Endlessly Rocking" before getting to work on that paper I have due today. You might want to consider doing the same.
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