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  Or I guess the grass is itself a child, the produced babe       of the vegetation.   Or I guess it is a uniform hieroglyphic, And it means, Sprouting alike in broad zones and narrow zones, Growing among black folks as among white, Kanuck, Tuckahoe, Congressman, Cuff, I give them the       same, I receive them the same.   And now it seems to me the beautiful uncut hair of graves. Tenderly will I use you curling grass, It may be you transpire from the breasts of young men, It may be if I had known them I would have loved them, It may be you are from old people, or from offspring taken        soon out of their mothers’ laps.   This grass is very dark to be from the white heads of old mothers, Darker than the colorless beards of old men, Dark to come from under the faint red roofs of mouths.      “Leaves of Grass, [Walt Whitman’s] enigmatic title, combines the leaf, a central metaphor of Western poetry, a Homeric acceptance of the brevity of an individual life, with the image from Isaiah and the Psalms of all flesh being as the grass, poignantly brief in duration.” --Harold Bloom, commenting on the above excerpt from Whitman.       Gonzalo:         How lush and lusty the grass looks!  how green! Antonio:         The ground indeed is tawny. Sebastian:       With an eye of green in’t. Antonio:         He misses not much. Sebastian:       No; he doth but mistake the truth totally.   --The Tempest, Act II, Scene 1   Northrop Frye places the above quote as the epigraph to the first chapter of Fearful Symmetry, where he refers to the notions of all-benign nature, popular among English and French “enlightenment” philosophers, such as Rousseau and Locke, as expressing what Blake considered a delusion of Ulro.  Frye’s exegesis gets closest to the point von Trier is making with his contrast between the vision of nature by the psychologist husband, who believes himself free of visionary distortions (in which self-conceit he doth mistake the truth totally), and the wife willing to see more.    Or perhaps she is unable not to see.  Whichever: left alone, not instructed by a controlling guidance in the right way to look and feel, she feels one with fallen nature, not merged with Eden-green.   (The image above is from the “healing” fantasy induced…

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Litography

Patrick Conners Jr | 0 comments | 05/28/13

  The story of fathers has always been the story of desires. It is always that next splendid city on…

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May 16 2013

Kabul Kommuter | 0 comments | 05/21/13

They finally did it, and it didn't take long. We told them told them told them what needed to change,…

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Jan 15 2011

Kabul Kommuter | 3 comments | 05/21/13

Journal Entry:   Bad day today, babe. Dropped R off at airport 0715. Dropped B & L off at training…

Monday 00:31   His bed is empty, the linen gone, naked sticky plastic mattress lying on a steel still rack.…

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Terminus

Kabul Kommuter | 1 comment | 05/21/13

C Co came home this weekend. Just in time for Memorial Day. It was a good reunion, families meeting us…

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Update From the Front

Kabul Kommuter | 2 comments | 05/21/13

So many folks here, going through the motions. So few earnestly trying to make a difference. Apathy rules among the…

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Iraqi Football

Kabul Kommuter | 0 comments | 05/21/13

Date/Time: (CENSORED) Iraq wins. Celabratory small arms fire.   Date/Time: (CENSORED) Iraq wins. Celebratory small arms fire.   Date/Time: (CENSORED)…

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Why Am I Here?

Kabul Kommuter | 5 comments | 05/21/13

Why am I here? I mean, here, in Iraq, in the military again? Maybe I need the money. Maybe I…

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Waiting for Rwanda

Kabul Kommuter | 7 comments | 05/21/13

It’s the second day, the planes still haven’t arrived, and the casualty reports are climbing. People are dying, and you’re…

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