As my consciousness spirals to its pre- destined disappearance, age has forced me to pay attention. Now I begin to see the silhouette of the mystery. I think about thinking and am beyond the comfort of conformity. I must ask questions that I never thought to ask before. The most profound questions seem to be transparent in their ordinariness and deceptive in their significance....
As my consciousness spirals to its pre- destined disappearance, age has forced me to pay attention. Now I begin to see the silhouette of the mystery. I think about thinking and am beyond the comfort of conformity. I must ask questions that I never thought to ask before. The most profound questions seem to be transparent in their ordinariness and deceptive in their significance. A child would understand. I know that this modest enquiry must fail. But what else am I to do?
- Duane Michals
原文摘录
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Imagine that we are dancing circus fleas. who believe
all that we can see was invented just for them in seven days
by some great Jehovah flea, whom they,
in fear of hell, praise with meaningless cliches.
Flea brain believe all sorts of myths
from virgin births to Noah's ship.
Then there's the big bad Satan flea, who fell from Jehovah's family tree,
and only seems to lurk in the minds of those who go to church.
All Barnum flea theocracies turn guilt to gold with hypocrisy,
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还没人写过短评呢