Just a thought...
"Were all stars to disappear or die,
I should learn to look at an empty sky
And feel its total dark sublime,
Though this might take me a little time."
--WH Auden
posted by /hg | 12:40 a.m.
Shut Up & Write
You love it. You loathe it.
Either way, you can't help yourself. You are one of us.
(You are also a masochist. But that's OK.)
About Me
- Name: /hg
- Location: Toronto, Canada
Struggling (and more often fighting) writer by trade, and office monkey when I need to pay my bills. It's an enviable life.
I know, you're probably a little jealous now.
It's perfectly understandable.
- Stop using your children to hide your prudery
- So say the stars...
- Clucking away...
- The Bottom
- Earth Hour... a.k.a.Toronto The Lame
- Daylight savings time...
- O sickness my sickness
- Bleh.
- At the Oscars: Orlando is still great...
- This evening's Lunar Eclipse
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April 16, 2008
"Were all stars to disappear or die,
I should learn to look at an empty sky
And feel its total dark sublime,
Though this might take me a little time."
--WH Auden
3 Comments:
To quote another "splendid bugger":
One should always be drunk.
That's all that matters; that's our one imperative need.
So as not to feel Time's horrible burden which breaks your shoulders and bows you down, you must get drunk without ceasing.
But with what? With wine, with poetry, or with virtue as you choose.
But get drunk.
And if, at some time, on the steps of a palace, in the green grass of a ditch, in the bleak solitude of your room, you are waking and the drunkenness has already abated,
ask the wind, the wave, the stars, the clock, all that which flees, all that which groans, all that which rolls, all that which sings, all that which speaks, ask them what time it is;
and the wind, the wave, the stars, the birds and the clock will reply:
"It is time to get drunk!"
So that you may not be the martyred slaves of Time, get drunk, get drunk and never pause for rest!
With wine, with poetry, or with virtue, as you choose!
--Charles Baudelaire
Enough with the buggery!
It's funny you picked one dedicated to the sauce -- I almost went with Keats' Ode To A Nightingale...
(I'm not a big fan of The Diary Of Bridget Jones, but I do love when Hugh Grant is drunkenly rowing and says, "Fuck me, I love Keats." And then they wind to another Hugh Grant film, Four Weddings And A Funeral which has that lovely "splendid bugger" Auden moment.)
And no, Ro, there isn't enough of the buggery when poetry is involved...
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