Karaindrou Eleni , Eternity and a day ,By the sea

Eleni Karaindrou - Elegy of the Uprooting

My Back Pages, Bob Dylan

Crimson flames tied through my ears
Rollin' high and mighty traps
Pounced with fire on flaming roads
Using ideas as my maps

"We'll meet on edges soon" said I
Proud 'neath heated brow
Ah, but I was so much older then
I'm younger than that now

Half-wracked prejudice leaped forth
"Rip down all hate" I screamed
Lies that life is black and white
Spoke from my skull, I dreamed

Romantic facts of musketeers
Foundationed deep somehow
Ah, but I was so much older then
I'm younger than that now

Girl's faces formed the forward path
From phony jealousy
To memorizing politics
Of ancient history

Flung down by corpse evangelists
Unthought of, though, somehow
Ah, but I was so much older then
I'm younger than that now

A self-ordained professor's tongue
Too serious to fool
Spouted out that liberty
Is just equality in school

"Equality," I spoke the word
As if a wedding vow
Ah, but I was so much older then
I'm younger than that now

In a soldier's stance, I aimed my hand
At the mongrel dogs who teach
Fearing not I'd become my enemy
In the instant that I preach

My existence led by confusion boats
Mutiny from stern to bow
Ah, but I was so much older then
I'm younger than that now

Yes, my guard stood hard when abstract threats
Too noble to neglect
Deceived me into thinking
I had something to protect

Good and bad, I define these terms
Quite clear, no doubt, somehow
Ah, but I was so much older then
I'm younger than that now

Eleni Karaindrou Ulysses Gaze

walk near Magolsheim

p

A dream with Cioran and Heidegger

A dream with Cioran and Heidegger

It was a large and quiet lake.  The reflections of clouds and the sun and the stars and the moon

were stirred by a soft warm wind. I turned on my back, floating, the sky open to my own eyes.

An apple tree stood  out of a meadow along the shore.

 Images rose in my mind, disturbing my piece.

I saw Cioran dissecting the apple next to me, first it was small pieces, then puree,

then all of a sudden it was not there anymore. For a moment I couldn't remember

that there ever was anything in my world  like an apple at all.

Even Cioran's thinking sharp as a honed kitchen knife had stopped to be in existence.

It had annihilated itself. Maybe this was his way, he didn't sleep, and thirsting for the the mercy of sleep  and for the joy of mornings he tried to lead thinking itself to disintegration: to find peace in nothing which must be difficult as long as you are somebody.

I saw a certain humor in it, staring at me like a slowly winding and ,yes, grinning, snake .

I rolled around in the water, put in a few strokes for my freedom, then decided for the apple: I refused to be infected by Cioran’s way of thinking.

A shadow fell, and I heard someone talking in long and elaborated sentences, with an intonation of absolute importance. Heidegger appeared, still talking and writing. And again I couldn’t see the apple.

I found myself deeply occupied with the ontology of apples. Again the question, so fundamental: “Is there an apple?”. The apple got lost in translation, caught in a so very German system of communication reminding of administrative procedures with their very own exclusive and impenetrable terminology.

The power of language destroyed my apple. I refused to listen: the apple re-appeared.

After all Cioran and Heidegger lived quite a long life. They must have eaten something

even if they may not have enjoyed doing it.

I started swimming again, and reaching the tree I ate the apple.

I woke up without any signs of infection.

Un Homme Qui Dort (1974) Full movie with subs

"You do not need to leave your room. Remain sitting at your table and listen. 

Do not even listen, simply wait. Do not even wait, be quite still and solitary. 

The world will freely offer itself to you to be unmasked. It has no choice.

 It will roll in ecstasy at your feet."

- Franz Kafka, "Reflections on Sin, Pain, Hope and the True Way"

E.M. Cioran - "Nichts zählt"

Er sagt, " die Angst vor dem Tode ist durch die Todeswollust überwunden"...also bitte....wie Herr Heidegger stand er anfangs dem Faschismus nahe...da wundert  mich bei beiden nicht mehr so viel. Cioran, in  "Auf den Gipfeln der Verzweiflung",
„Ich würde eine Welt lieben, in der es gar kein Kriterium gäbe, keine Form und keinerlei Prinzip, eine Welt der absoluten Unbestimmtheit. Denn in unserer Welt sind alle Kriterien, Formen und Prinzipien schal". Er begegnet aller tumben Hoffnung  mit einem absoluten Vernichtungswillen  alles ist Betrug, das Böse ist Therapie...das Leben ist nicht lebbar.

Provocation is good to initiate thinking.

Apocalypse According to Cioran [Documentary, English Subs]

Emile M. Cioran, geb. am 8.4.1911 in Rumänien, gest. am 20.6.1995 in Paris, 
studierte in Bukarest Philosophie - vor allem Kant, Fichte, Schopenhauer, Hegel und Bergson -,
kam 1937 als Stipendiat nach Paris, wo er bis zu seinem Tod lebte.

"Lehre vom Zerfall" E.M. Cioran..mit Übersetzung/Bearbeitung von Paul Celan!..
...Resignation und Tatenlosigkeit...nicht mein Weg






he says, "i wrote all my books for therapeutic reasons"..."i am not cured, i am tired"...

well, understandable with his vision and with our world as it is conveyed to us day for day










http://www.literaturkritik.de/public/rezension.php?rez_id=15513