My God died young.
you know, atheism is not the first thing that leaps to mind when this line comes up. it's not that simple, it can't be.
it's My God.
my God died young. he was 6'2", gentle giant, blond hair and warm brown gray eyes.
my god died young. 18 with his life ahead of him, a full ride football scholarship to California state. a pediatrician, musician, engineer...
my god died young. 12 years old attending the funeral of a man that terrified me, though i did not why at the time, i learned that my god had died coming to attend that same funeral of the patriarch of our clan.
12 years old standing at a casketless wake with not even ashes to spread of my god, his mother and his father, who were also my gods. with the woman who would have been my god's wife, my god's brother, both of whom are lost to me now, dampening my mourning clothes with salt tears that i could not shed.
my god was gentle to the crawling toddler. he was teasing to the bright child. he was comforting to the coming teen. he was my god. and he died young. my god died young and i can never have him back no matter how much i beg or curse or pray. My God died young.
shade did not just mean atheism. he can't have. he meant that the focus of his devotion, his world died young and he had to be the one to bury her. Hazel was Shade's god despite her flaws, or her perfections; she was his god and she died young, too early. no one should have to bury their children. not one should have to say goodbye too soon to their gods. but they do. because gods, mortal or theological, die young. and they can never come back.
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Friday, October 16, 2009
Midterm essay- Faithful Hound
Joan Goss
Eng 431
Dr. Sexson
10/13/09
"Faithful Hound"
I am nature’s faithful hound."
Lolita, Vladimir Nabokov- pg. 135
These particular words jumped out at me. Mostly because it is hunting season and one of our neighbors has hounds that he uses to hunt cats. To hunt mountain lions. One of which we saw the other day, a beautiful, rich mahogany tom, large about 130-140 lbs. Beautiful animal. The neighbor has a handful of hounds of varying breeds. In this case, hunting lions, more is better. A cat will pick off a small pack, but will run from a larger one, only killing a few. But we are not really talking about hunting lions, are we?
A Hound. An obsessive, blood tracker. An animal that knows nothing but the trail. It hunts relentlessly, neither food nor drink not pain will distract it from it’s chosen path. You would think a hound would be an easy going animal, but they are not. No, these beasts, no matter how they are portrayed on TV, are no lazy porch mutt. They hunt. They hunt fiercely. They track and stalk. Their teeth are not for show, they are a predator. They are dedicated and faithful. Rather a bit like Humbert. Obsessive, faithful tracker who hunted for Lolita, who hunted Lolita.
While I am not as admiring of Humbert I am rather of hounds. Nature’s trackers. Perhaps he believes that he is what nature has made him rather than experience?
Faithful. Full of faith. Filled with it, overflowing and overwhelming. Faith in god, self and other. A "faithful hound." All hounds are faithful until they loose a scent and then they will still wander restlessly until the trail is picked back up or a new one is presented. You cannot pull a hound off of a trail. They are strong and determined creatures and can be vicious. They will take on a larger predator without hesitation. While Humbert and Quilty may be reflections, evil twins, doppelgängers, what have you they are also different it is hunter and hunted, which is the better predator, which is "real". I use quotes because, as has been stated "reality" wears is quotes like claws/a clause, and I
use italics because of the idea of which ever of the twins remains after a battle is the "real" one, the actual person and not a mere shadow of reflection.
Oops. Got distracted. Right! "Faithful hound." Hounds are also very loyal to their masters/handlers. They can get along with other people but they really only belong to one person or family. It is rather difficult to adopt them due to this, and I do not mean legally but emotionally. Lassie might run and fetch help but the hound would pull Timmy out of the well or die trying.
Humbert may be a beast but he is a specific kind of beast. Elvis Presley probably summed Humbert up rather well. "You ain’t nothin’ but a hound dog, crying all the time." Though perhaps not crying but certainly constantly commenting and talking, even if it is only to us, dear readers.
Even in the end Humbert would have been put down, like a "faithful hound" had he not died. A rabid, obsessive, "faithful hound." It is, I suppose, something amusing, this Humbert the hound, this dedicated monster. A child bride, and her faithful pet. Well, let them to rest then, and let them not wake.
It is nought good a slepyng hound to wake. -Chaucer, Geoffrey.
Eng 431
Dr. Sexson
10/13/09
"Faithful Hound"
I am nature’s faithful hound."
Lolita, Vladimir Nabokov- pg. 135
These particular words jumped out at me. Mostly because it is hunting season and one of our neighbors has hounds that he uses to hunt cats. To hunt mountain lions. One of which we saw the other day, a beautiful, rich mahogany tom, large about 130-140 lbs. Beautiful animal. The neighbor has a handful of hounds of varying breeds. In this case, hunting lions, more is better. A cat will pick off a small pack, but will run from a larger one, only killing a few. But we are not really talking about hunting lions, are we?
A Hound. An obsessive, blood tracker. An animal that knows nothing but the trail. It hunts relentlessly, neither food nor drink not pain will distract it from it’s chosen path. You would think a hound would be an easy going animal, but they are not. No, these beasts, no matter how they are portrayed on TV, are no lazy porch mutt. They hunt. They hunt fiercely. They track and stalk. Their teeth are not for show, they are a predator. They are dedicated and faithful. Rather a bit like Humbert. Obsessive, faithful tracker who hunted for Lolita, who hunted Lolita.
While I am not as admiring of Humbert I am rather of hounds. Nature’s trackers. Perhaps he believes that he is what nature has made him rather than experience?
Faithful. Full of faith. Filled with it, overflowing and overwhelming. Faith in god, self and other. A "faithful hound." All hounds are faithful until they loose a scent and then they will still wander restlessly until the trail is picked back up or a new one is presented. You cannot pull a hound off of a trail. They are strong and determined creatures and can be vicious. They will take on a larger predator without hesitation. While Humbert and Quilty may be reflections, evil twins, doppelgängers, what have you they are also different it is hunter and hunted, which is the better predator, which is "real". I use quotes because, as has been stated "reality" wears is quotes like claws/a clause, and I
use italics because of the idea of which ever of the twins remains after a battle is the "real" one, the actual person and not a mere shadow of reflection.
Oops. Got distracted. Right! "Faithful hound." Hounds are also very loyal to their masters/handlers. They can get along with other people but they really only belong to one person or family. It is rather difficult to adopt them due to this, and I do not mean legally but emotionally. Lassie might run and fetch help but the hound would pull Timmy out of the well or die trying.
Humbert may be a beast but he is a specific kind of beast. Elvis Presley probably summed Humbert up rather well. "You ain’t nothin’ but a hound dog, crying all the time." Though perhaps not crying but certainly constantly commenting and talking, even if it is only to us, dear readers.
Even in the end Humbert would have been put down, like a "faithful hound" had he not died. A rabid, obsessive, "faithful hound." It is, I suppose, something amusing, this Humbert the hound, this dedicated monster. A child bride, and her faithful pet. Well, let them to rest then, and let them not wake.
It is nought good a slepyng hound to wake. -Chaucer, Geoffrey.
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Waxwing
I had a moment of embarrassment when i went to look up a picture of a waxwing. you know that pair of tawny and gold birds i found? yeah well they were waxwings. Cedar Waxwings. really bad blonde moment. well here's a picture.
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
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