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Contraints on Communication Construct More Interesting Truths

Contraints on Communication Construct More Interesting Truths

I would like to see someone do some contemporary intellectual work on how indirect communication – communication by signals and pointers and gestures rather than direct statement – produces the best art.

The pure and simple truth is rarely pure and never simple. ~ Oscar Wilde

Communication whose style and content is dictated by constraints imposed by the rules of a scene is more creative, even more joyful, even if the realities of the life that produces the thought is very difficult.

Jean Baudrillard did some of this work in bemoaning the loss of the scene itself, which is the stage for the distinction between good and evil that we all navigate. Without the binary antipodes of cultural constraint, do we really find motivation to do anything of importance?

A thing is not necessarily true because a man dies for it. ~ Oscar Wilde

Art communicates what cannot be expressed by other means. There is more truth in fiction and in art than in any amount of moralizing speech.

When homosexuality could not be spoken, thinkers and artists – and even politicians – discovered ways to indicate what was already known, and to do it without speaking it. We love to bust these out into the open, but the art was all about indications and play.

It made great art. Plays, paintings, poetry, speeches, philosophies…

Oppressed people can create the most amazing stuff – amazing music, amazing fiction. Think of Russian novelists. Think of black gospel music compared to the dirge-like church music of privileged white colonizers. It’s true that abject poverty can also denigrate people below any ability to create, too, but among them… always a genius, a prophet.

Sometimes I wonder if that’s not at least part of what is meant by not being “of this world.” The rewards of this world – money, power, and so on – are rewards in themselves. They are rewards for now, to be enjoyed now. But that’s all.

The rewards of those who are censored and constrained and even oppressed are, by their very structure and nature, more complex – more insightful – more subtle – more deeply real. When you care enough to work around tough rules of expression, you find a way – like life itself always finds a way.

It will be a marvelous thing – the true personality of man – when we see it. It will grow naturally and simply, flower-like, or as a tree grows. It will not be at discord. It will never argue or dispute. It will not prove things. It will know everything. And yet it will not busy itself about knowledge. It will have wisdom. Its value will not be measured by material things. It will have nothing. And yet it will have everything, and whatever one takes from it, it will still have, so rich will it be. It will not be always meddling with others, or asking them to be like itself. It will love them because they will be different. And yet, while it will not meddle with others, it will help all, as a beautiful thing helps us by being what it is. The personality of man will be very wonderful. It will be as wonderful as the personality of a child. In its development it will be assisted by Christianity, if men desire that; but if men do not desire that, it will develop none the less surely. For it will not worry itself about the past, nor care whether things happened or did not happen. Nor will it admit any laws but its own laws; nor any authority but its own authority. Yet it will love those who sought to intensify it, and speak often of them. And of these Christ was one. “Know Thyself” was written over the portal of the antique world. Over the portal of the new world, “Be Thyself” shall be written. And the message of Christ to man was simply “Be Thyself.” That is the secret of Christ. ~ Oscar Wilde

The traditions of men serve to stabilize communities, but they also create boundaries that are made to be flirted with – deconstructed. As you toe the line, you doodle all around that line. Without a line, you can’t… doodle.

It’s not brazen. It’s not open. It’s not honest. And yet – isn’t it more truthful to experience? Doesn’t it really address you all the more forcefully?

It does me.

Tell all the Truth but tell it slant—
Success in Circuit lies
Too bright for our infirm Delight
The Truth’s superb surprise
As Lightening to the Children eased
With explanation kind
The Truth must dazzle gradually
Or every man be blind— ~ Emily Dickinson

“…music is the perfect type of art. Music can never reveal its ultimate secret. This, also, is the explanation of the value of limitations in art. The sculptor gladly surrenders imitative colour, and the painter the actual dimensions of form, because by such renunciations they are able to avoid too definite a presentation of the Real, which would be mere imitation, and too definite a realisation of the Ideal, which would be too purely intellectual. It is through its very incompleteness that art becomes complete in beauty, and so addresses itself, not to the faculty of recognition nor to the faculty of reason, but to the aesthetic sense alone, which, while accepting both reason and recognition as stages of apprehension, subordinates them both to a pure synthetic impression of the work of art as a whole, and, taking whatever alien emotional elements the work may possess, uses their very complexity as a means by which a richer unity may be added to the ultimate impression itself.” ~ Oscar Wilde

Hokey-Pokey Shakespeare

Hokey-Pokey Shakespeare

The Washington Post Style Invitational contest asked readers to submit “instructions” for something (anything), written in the style of a famous person. The winning entry was “The Hokey Pokey” as written by W. Shakespeare:

O proud left foot, that ventures quick within
Then soon upon a backward journey lithe.
Anon, once more the gesture, then begin:
Command sinistral pedestal to writhe.
Commence thou then the fervid Hokey-Poke,
A mad gyration, hips in wanton swirl.
To spin! A wilde release from Heaven’s yoke.
Blessed dervish! Surely canst go, girl.
The Hoke, the poke — banish now thy doubt;
Verily, I say, ’tis what it’s all about.

(thanks Corinne!)

I’m not the only one who enjoys it (despite the missing four lines which would have made it a true imitation). It has been blogged a lot. I found the original at the March 2003 contest page. The author is Jeff Brechlin, from Potomac Falls. He won a shotgun shell salt and pepper shaker for his effort. Congrats Jeff!

These other two entires weren’t circulated, but I liked them just as much.

Here is Paul Dudley’s impression of Robert Frost’s voicemail (or answering machine) message. I’m thinking about singing it, as a tango, to the next telemarketer that bothers me during dinner.

I’m not at home, or I’m asleep,
But do not fret, and do not weep.
Just leave a message at the beep,
Just leave a message at the beep.

And of course, where would my sense of performative irony be without the inclusion of some fake Emily Dickinson (snort)?

Have a little giggle, and pray that the lady of Amherst isn’t hanging around in any conscious form to know about things like being channelled by Jim Roy Wilson (Washington) for this consumer message:

A gauzy Skein of Propylene —
That sways with slightest Breath —
This bag holds smocks — and Bread and Milk
But — in its folds — lies Death.
It sways and puffs — this Thistledown,
Balloonlike in its joy —
Each tiny mouth a perfect fit —
This bag is not a toy.

Try it to the tune of “The Yellow Rose of Texas”… or “I’d Like to Teach the World to Sing” (the latter itself stolen for the old Coke commercial).