What Satan put into the heads of our remote ancestors (Adam and Eve) was the idea that they could ‘be like gods’ - could set up their own as if they had created themselves - be their own masters - invent some sort of happiness for themselves outside God, apart from God. And out that hopeless attempt has come nearly all that we call human history - money, poverty, ambition, war, prostitution, classes, empires, slavery - the long terrible story of man trying to find something other than God which will make him happy.
— C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity (via an-ge-lo)
(via kittyolsen)
“Porlock”
i
One, to dream freely, must have peace,
Uninterrupted; to release
Without obstruction of the mind
For inspiration’s not designed.It has to flow all unimpeded!
If done apurpose, best delete it,
If song of genius is defeated,
The overflow is dead and bleeded.Dear Col! We beg you, please reveal
If the River Alph is real.
We still do see thy glitt’ring Eye,
We know thy Fountain ne’er shall dry.Did you need laudanum to see them?
Pour a shot of it in me, then.
And say! What fearful hand or eye
Can blast that lousy Porlock guy?He is the nemesis of art
Who kills our finest ere we start.
He’s all responsibility—
Our jobs, our chores, our family—And though creation’s our ambition,
Someone’s got to wash the dishen.
We can’t escape the piddling functions;
We still must cook, and eat, our luncheons.Though we’re the image of our Creator,
Our own best work’s put off till later.
Food, clothes, shelter, legislators—
Taxes and refrigerators….
It’s hard to elevate the soul
When you’re ten dollars in the hole.You grasp at chaff and tug your forelock.
Curse that bastard fiend from Porlock!
—
Original poem (fragment), “Porlock,” part 1 only
Oct. 2003
(via herm-anna37)
But if you wanted to go on from the end of The Hobbit I think the ring would be your inevitable choice as the link. If then you wanted a large tale, the Ring would at once acquire a capital letter; and the Dark Lord would immediately appear. As he did, unasked, on the hearth at Bag End as soon as I came to that point. So the essential Quest started at once. But I met a lot of things on the way that astonished me. Tom Bombadil I knew already; but I had never been to Bree. Strider sitting in the comer at the inn was a shock, and I had no more idea who he was than had Frodo. The Mines of Moria had been a mere name; and of Lothlórien no word had reached my mortal ears till I came there. Far away I knew there were the Horse-lords on the confines of an ancient Kingdom of Men, but Fangorn Forest was an unforeseen adventure. I had never heard of the House of Eorl nor of the Stewards of Gondor. Most disquieting of all, Saruman had never been revealed to me, and I was as mystified as Frodo at Gandalf’s failure to appear on September 22. I knew nothing of the Palantíri, though the moment the Orthanc-stone was cast from the window, I recognized it, and knew the meaning of the ‘rhyme of lore’ that had been running in my mind: seven stars and seven stones and one white tree. These rhymes and names will crop up; but they do not always explain themselves. I have yet to discover anything about the cats of Queen Berúthiel. But I did know more or less all about Gollum and his pan, and Sam, and I knew that the way was guarded by a Spider.
J.R.R. Tolkien in a letter to W.H. Auden (7 June 1955)
(via unseilie)
A letter may be coded, and a word may be coded. A theatrical performance may be coded, and a sonnet may be coded, and there are times when it seems the entire world is in code. Some believe that the world can be decoded by performing research in a library. Others believe that the world can be decoded by reading a newspaper. But in my case, the only thing that made sense of the world was you, and without you the world will seem as garbled and tragic as a malfunctioning typewrite9.
— The Beatrice Letters | Lemony Snicket (via near-and-dear)
An Ache by me!
I’m lonely as ever
I’m a moon behind clouds
Between the earth and the stars I do not matter
And while the sorrow kicks in
I’m kicking myself
A bird can fly and swim and walk
No time spent searching for oneself
Your fingers ache for touch
Your knuckles are dry
Your nails open my veins and reach out for my heart to pry
Your mint coloured eyes cannot see
The way you drain me dry
A letter from the Campbell Soup Company to Andy Warhol, May 1964.
(Source: pomulev, via fynneyseas)
I have always been a wretched speaker. My vocabulary dwells deep in my mind and needs paper to wriggle out into the physical zone. Spontaneous eloquence seems to me a miracle. I have rewritten — often several times — every word I have ever published. My pencils outlast their erasures.
— : Vladimir Nabokov (via clavicola)
(via unlonely)
Little Moments
Tonight, Cara and I walked out of Fry’s, and as we were taking our groceries from our parked cart, I couldn’t help but notice the handsome guy walking toward us. He was tall and lean, his sun kissed cheeks said he worked outside, and he had scruffy blonde curls. As he got closer, we heard it. He was whistling. He leaned against the pillar lighting a cigarette. Cara and I could barely contain our smiles as we heard the gallant tune of “If I Only Had a Brain” bouncing through the air.
I could wile away the hours
Conferrin’ with the flowers
Consultin’ with the rain“Ba dum dumdumdum badum” I whistled, completing the tune. He flashed a sideways smile.
As I got in the car, I decided that on the way out, I would pull up, poke my head out of the window and ask for his name. But when I looked up, he was gone.
Its little moments like these that make life worth while, and make even the saddest people smile.
(via withcollystrings)
Plays: 28876
It’s been less than two months short of a year since I posted a polka-bluegrass cover of Taio Cruz’ hit song, Dynamite. Since then, I’ve been wondering how I’d ever manage to top it. Only time will really tell if I’ve managed to pull it off with this cover of Love In This Club, originally performed by Usher and Young Jeezy. I’m sorry it took me so damn long. I’m not actually sorry. I am. No. I’m not. I’m sorry.
If you happened to dig this track and, for reasons beyond my personal understanding, would like to be able to listen to it at your leisure on your own personal music players, you can grab a download of it here. And if lossless versions are your thing, here’s a zip of some of those too.
Also, it would be horrendously remiss of me to not give a huge plug to the very talented (and always bursting with real fruit flavour) Vondell Swain, who did an amazing job with the album artwork.
Happy listening! I guess!
(via badcgijosh)
It is only a gossamer veil.
I see your eyes shine through.
Show your face, play your tune, shout your name, light your fire,
And I shall paint your portrait, fair lady.
—
Me!
From the digital booklet I wrote for my album which stoopid iTunes have deleted! Wtf. So if you’ve downloaded the album and want to know about the cinematic context of the music I recorded in appropriate amounts of detail, you can find it here
(via sillywhatwell)
