T H E D A I L Y T R A V E S T Y
For March 22, 2000
Volume 1, Issue 55
A boy's will is the
wind's will
And the thoughts
of youth are
long, long thoughts.
Longfellow,
My Lost Youth
In his book "Iron John," poet Robert Bly posits
three archetypal life sequences that are represented by the colors of red,
white, and black; the Hindu "Guanas" that are associated with sacredness
in many cultures. Modern neo-pagans will recognize the
red-white-black sequence, the woman's life pattern, as the Goddess's sacred
colors; white for the maiden, passionate red for the woman who comes into
the fullness of her sexuality as lover and/or mother, and black for the wise
crone. Bly focuses on the men's sequence, which he sees as
red-white-black. Hot-blooded, warlike young men full of new hormones start
as red, and then move into white as they learn about rules and discipline, and
end as black when they become wise sages.
[There is a] third path, however, which Bly refers
to only casually as an "alchemical" path traveled only by magicians and higher
seekers... The alchemical path starts with black, instead of ending there; the
"black beast" of unaltered coal, unsmelted metal, unrefined
earth...
Raven Kaldera
If Computer Error Messages Came in
Haiku...
Everything has gone;
Your life's work has been destroyed.
Squeeze
trigger (yes/no)?
Windows NT crashed.
I am the blue screen of
death.
No one hears your
screams.
A file that big?
It might be very useful.
But now it is
gone.
Chaos reigns within.
Repent, reflect, and
reboot.
Order shall
return.
This site has been moved.
We'd tell you where, but then we'd
Have
to delete you.
ABORTED effort
Close all that you
have.
You ask way too
much.
First snow, then silence
This thousand dollar screen dies
So
beautifully.
With searching comes loss
And
the presence of absence
"My
Novel" not found.
A crash reduces
Your expensive computer
To a simple stone
There
is a chasm
Of carbon and
silicon
The
software can't bridge
To have no errors
Would be life without meaning
No struggle, no
joy
You
step in the stream,
But the water has moved
on.
This page is not
here.
Out of memory,
We wish to hold the whole sky,
But we never
will.
Having been erased,
This document you are
seeking
Must now be
retyped.
The ten thousand things
How long do any persist?
Netscape too is
gone.
Serious error
All shortcuts have
disappeared.
Mind.
Screen. Both are blank.
++
daylight licked me into shape i must
have been asleep for days and moving lips to breathe her name i opened
up my eyes and found myself alone alone alone upon the raging sea that
stole the only girl i loved and drowned her deep inside of me
you soft and only you lost and lonely you just like heaven