Friday, December 17, 2004

There must be some way out of here," said the joker to the thief,

"There's too much confusion, I can't get no relief.

Businessmen, they drink my wine, plowmen dig my earth,

None of them along the line know what any of it is worth."

 

"No reason to get excited," the thief, he kindly spoke,

"There are many here among us who feel that life is but a joke.

But you and I, we've been through that, and this is not our fate,

So let us not talk falsely now, the hour is getting late."

 

All along the watchtower, princes kept the watch

While all the women came and went, barefoot servants, too.

 

Outside in the distance a wildcat did growl,

Two riders were approaching, the wind began to howl.

 

            All Along the Watchtower, Bob Dylan 1967.

  

And I am thinking that songs like this are not written or authorized by committees. Committees are about filtering out the insanity of individuals into the sanity of the collective. The whole is greater than the sum of the parts. Or so they said.

 

How does it feel

How does it feel

To be on your own

With no direction home

Like a complete unknown

Like a rolling stone?

           

            Like a Rolling Stone, Bob Dylan 1965

 

 

THE MYTH OF DAEDALUS & ICARUS

 

Daedalus was a highly respected and talented Athenian artisan descendent from the royal family of Cecrops, the mythical first king of Athens. He was known for his skill as an architect, sculpture, and inventor, and he produced many famous works. Despite his self-confidence, Daedalus once committed a crime of envy against Talus, his nephew and apprentice. Talus, who seemed destined to become as great an artisan as his uncle Daedalus, was inspired one day to invent the saw after having seen the way a snake used its jaws. Daedalus, momentarily stricken with jealousy, threw Talus off of the Acropolis. For this crime, Daedalus was exiled to Crete and placed in the service of King Minos, where he eventually had a son, Icarus, with the beautiful Naucrate, a mistress-slave of the King.

Minos called on Daedalus to build the famous Labyrinth in order to imprison the dreaded Minotaur. The Minotaur was a monster with the head of a bull and the body of a man. He was the son of Pasiphae, the wife of Minos, and a bull that Poseidon had sent to Minos as a gift. Minos was shamed by the birth of this horrible creature and resolved to imprison the Minotaur in the Labyrinth where it fed on humans, which were taken as "tribute" by Minos and sacrificed to the Minotaur in memory of his fallen son Androgenos.

 

Theseus, the heroic King of Athens, volunteered himself to be sent to the Minotaur in the hopes of killing the beast and ending the "human tribute" that his city was forced to pay Minos. When Theseus arrived to Crete, Ariadne, Minos's daughter, fell in love with him and wished to help him survive the Minotaur. Daedalus revealed the mystery of the Labyrinth to Ariadne who in turn advised Theseus, thus enabling him to slay the Minotaur and escape from the Labyrinth. When Minos found out what Daedalus had done he was so enraged that he imprisoned Daedalus & Icarus in the Labyrinth themselves.

 

Daedalus conceived to escape from the Labyrinth with Icarus from Crete by constructing wings and then flying to safety. He built the wings from feathers and wax, and before the two set off he warned Icarus not to fly too low lest his wings touch the waves and get wet, and not too high lest the sun melt the wax. But the young Icarus, overwhelmed by the thrill of flying, did not heed his father's warning, and flew too close to the sun whereupon the wax in his wings melted and he fell into the sea. Daedalus escaped to Sicily and Icarus' body was carried ashore by the current to an island then without a name. Heracles came across the body and recognized it, giving it burial where today there still stands a small rock promontory jutting out into the Aegean Sea, and naming the island and the sea around it after the fallen Icarus.

 

 

Icarus by frank wright

 

The labyrinth from which Theseus escaped by means of the clew of Ariadne was built by Daedalus, most skillful artificer. It was an edifice with numberless winding passages and turnings opening into one another, and seeming to have neither beginning nor end, like the river Maeander, which returns on itself, and flows now onward, now backward, in its course to the sea. Daedalus built the labyrinth for King Minos, but afterward lost the favor of the king, and was shut up in a tower. He contrived to make his escape from his prison, but could not leave the island by sea, as the king kept strict watch on all the vessels and permitted none to sail without being carefully searched. "Minos may control the land and sea," said Daedalus, "but not the regions of the air. I will try that way."

So he set to work to fabricate wings for himself and his young son Icarus. He wrought feathers together, beginning with the smallest and adding larger, so as to form an increasing surface. The larger ones he secured with thread and the smaller ones with wax, and gave the whole a gentle curvature like the wings of a bird. Icarus, the boy, stood and looked on, sometimes running to gather up the feathers which the wind had blown away, and then handling the wax and working it over with his fingers, by his play impeding his father in his labors. When at last the work was done, the artist, waving his wings, found himself buoyed upward and hung suspended, poising himself on the beaten air. He next equipped his son in the same manner and taught him how to fly, as a bird tempts her young ones from the lofty nest into the air. When all was prepared for flight he said, "Icarus, my son, I charge you to keep at a moderate height, for if you fly too low the damp will clog your wings, and if too high the heat will melt them. Keep near me and you will be safe."

 

While he gave him these instructions and fitted the wings to his shoulders, the face of the father was wet with tears, and his hands trembled. He kissed the boy, not knowing it was for the last time. Then rising on his wings he flew off, and looked back from his own flight to see how his son managed his wings. As they flew the plowman stopped his work to gaze, and the shepherd leaned on his staff and watched them, astonished at the sight, and thinking they were gods who could thus cleave the air.

 

They passed Samos and Delos on the left and Lebynthos on the right, when the boy, exulting in his career, began to leave the guidance of his companion and soar upward as if to reach heaven. The nearness of the blazing sun softened the wax which held the feathers together, and they came off. He fluttered with his arms, but no feathers remained to hold the air. While his mouth uttered cries to his father it was submerged in the blue waters of the sea, which was thenceforth called by his name. His father cried, "Icarus, Icarus, where are you?" At last he saw the feathers floating on the water, and bitterly lamenting his own arts, he buried the body and called the land Icaria in memory of his child. Daedalus arrived safe in Sicily, where he built a temple to Apollo and hung up his wings, an offering to the god.

 

Friday, December 17, 2004 9:41:02 AM (Eastern Standard Time, UTC-05:00)  #    Comments [5]  | 
Sunday, December 19, 2004 8:12:44 AM (Eastern Standard Time, UTC-05:00)
and what is good, phaedrus
and what is not good?
need we ask anyone to tell us these things...

the men of old who gave things their names saw no disgrace or shame in madness, otherwise they would not have called the art of telling the future the manic art....

the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing but burn, burn burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars...

i hope that this makes you feel better...

Sunday, December 19, 2004 4:05:43 PM (Eastern Standard Time, UTC-05:00)
The Agenda of Icarus

To fly or To escape.
To escape by flying?

Madness sometimes takes over. And then we figure out that we knew jack-shit about our own instincts. Agendas change mid-flight. :-)
Neha
Monday, December 20, 2004 1:46:57 AM (Eastern Standard Time, UTC-05:00)
He couldnt have been righter - Your friends will know you better in the first moment you meet than your acquitances will know you in a lifetime.
Yes. I am feeling more compliant now.

I think I will remember this for a while now Anand - the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing but burn, burn burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars... - till I understand it.

Wasn this on the on back cover of your first notebook I ever saw -
And if the dam breaks open many years too soon
And if there is no room upon the hill
And if your head explodes with dark forebodings too
I'll see you on the Dark Side Of The Moon

And its strange, in all our dangling conversations, we never even spoke of pink floyd.
Roshan
Tuesday, December 21, 2004 1:47:43 AM (Eastern Standard Time, UTC-05:00)
Pink FLoyd was on the cover of my Gulf War paper which you put up on the net...

the only people for me are the mad ones is from Jack Kerouac.

lemme give you another killer line -

we turned at a dozen paces, for love is a duel, and looked at each other for the last time...
Friday, December 24, 2004 12:41:34 AM (Eastern Standard Time, UTC-05:00)
ha ha ha.
Last night I was showing a friend pictures from Bidar and Gulbarga
Rosh
Comments are closed.