jueves, 27 de septiembre de 2007

Socratic Cow Returns

The Cow that can be told is not the eternal Cow.
The Woman that can be named is not the eternal Woman.
Man is the Creator of ten thousand things.
Woman is the beginning of hell on earth.
Ever desireless, one can see the truth.
Ever desiring, there is only appearance.
These two differ in name, and are forever opposed; this appears as darkness.
The gate to all knowledge.

Under heaven, a man sees her beauty as beauty only because he is ignorant.
He knows her good as good only because he is evil.
Therefore her goodness and his evil arise together.
Her beauty and his ugliness contrast each other;
His strength and her weakness rest upon each other;
His hardness and her softness create each other;
His forwardness and her backwardness follow one another.

Therefore the wise man goes about avoiding her, teaching no-mooing.
His ten thousand thoughts evolve without cease;
Creating, yet not possessing,
Working, yet not taking credit.
His work is done, then forgotten.
Therefore it lasts forever.

The Cow is an empty vessel; she is used but never satisfied.
Oh, fathomable source of ten thousand delusions!
Blunt her shapeliness,
Untangle her hold,
Scoff at her stare.
Merge with dust.
Oh, enclothed but ever naked!
I do not know why she comes.
She is the curse of all thinkers.

Women and girls are ruthless;
They see man's ten thousand thoughts as dummies.
Wives are ruthless;
They see their husbands as dummies.

The difference between man and woman is infinite.
Fashions change, but never this truth.
The more women change, the more they stay the same.
More roles count for less.
Hold fast to your masculinity!

The petty spirit never dies;
It is the Cow, primal woman.
Her gateway is the root of all mindlessness.
It is like her veils, barely seen.
Men who use it - die.

Look, she cannot exist, she is unconscious.
Listen, she cannot be silenced, she is without purpose.
Grasp, she cannot be held, she is not really there.
These three are inhuman,
Therefore they are joined in one.

From above she is not bright.
From below she is not stupid.
An unbroken space beyond description.
She is simply nothingness.
The form of an angel,
The image of Heaven,
She is called impossible and beyond comprehension.

Stand before her and there is no dignity.
Follow her and there is no joy.
Esteem the ancient Cow,
And move into oblivion.

When the great Cow is forgotten,
Simplicity and clarity of mind arise.
When women and femininity are born,
The great pretence begins.

When tears well up in a woman's eyes,
Guilt and concern promptly arise.
When she is confused and in chaos,
Loyal men appear.

The great Cow flows everywhere, both in the world and in the home.
The ten thousand thoughts shy away from it, but it holds nothing back.
It fulfils its purpose noisily and makes endless claims.
It poisons the ten thousand thoughts,
And yet it is not their lord.
It has no aim; it is very petty.
The ten thousand thoughts struggle against it,
Yet it is not their lord.
It is mindless.
It does not show greatness,
And therefore it is mediocre.

The wise student hears of the Cow and laughs out loud.
The average student hears of the Cow and becomes deeply disturbed.
The foolish student hears of the Cow and immediately changes the subject.
If there were no changing the subject, the Cow would not be what it is.

Hence it is said:
The mind of a woman seems pure;
The ways of the feminine seem innocent;
The smells of the Paddock seem natural;
Getting married seems like progress;
The highest salary seems fulfilling;
Great sex seems heavenly;
A wealth of possessions seems comforting;
Having children seems important;
The perfect tear has no beginning;
Great mistakes ripen late;
The obvious notes are hard to hear;
The greatest evil has no shape;
The Cow is everywhere, and has many names.
The Cow alone poisons and brings everything to stagnation.

My words are easy to understand, and easy to perform.
Yet no man under heaven knows them or practices them.
My words have ancient beginnings.
My actions are disciplined.
Because men do not understand, they have no knowledge of me.
Those that know me are few;
Those that abuse me are honoured.
Therefore the sage wears rough clothing
And ignores the attractions of the heart.

De Genius realms



Justo al acabar este post he recibido por mail esta imagen que me ha enviado la adepta Celia, también conocida como "La Oinerá", algo así como llena de vino o abundante en vino. Es una de nuestras mas santas vestales.

6 comentarios:

  1. a veces usted me da mucho miedo sr Luri...

    ResponderEliminar
  2. Celia, explíquese, por favor, o me tendrá la noche en vela.

    ResponderEliminar
  3. Distinguido Gregorio:

    Revisando un texto de Frans de Waal he topado con tu blog; fíjate tu con los miles de blogs que hay me tope por casualidad con el tuyo. Hace días que me hubiera gustado encontrarle como siempre por casualidad por la calle, y me lo encuentro por casualidad en la red; y todo para hacerte un reproche del cual no eres responsable, pero como dices en uno de tus títulos la vida es una tómbola.

    El reproche es el siguiente, si no hubieras renunciado en su tiempo, ahora tendríamos un alcalde como Dios manda, y la cultura habría tenido una oportunidad.

    Saludos muy cordiales

    Ruben

    ResponderEliminar
  4. Impresionante hallazgo esta vaca vitruviana.

    ResponderEliminar
  5. Ruben: Hay un refrán apropiado para lo que usted tan amablemente sugiere: "Zapatero, a tus zapatos". No todo el mundo sirve para cualquier cosa. Más bien ocurre todo lo contrario, que sólo servimos para algunas pocas. Yo, por ejemplo, para lo que realmente sirvo es para cantar rancheras en la intimidad.

    ResponderEliminar
  6. Arrebatos: A veces Celia me da mucho miedo, Sr. Arrebatos.

    ResponderEliminar

Acting White

En El Subjetivo