If roses smell as they do to us, how must they smell to creatures who can really experience odor, like cats? Is there a "like" involved there (some people, of course, "dislike" the smell of roses, while others, such as me, think they smell "really amazing")? Do some cats "like" how roses smell, & some "dislike" them? Or do such puzzling creatures just accept them as geographical markers indicating place without ever thinking of "like/dislike" — rather as most adults do plain grass? It wouldn't surprise me if a child's reaction to the smell of grass mimicked a cat's reaction to the smell of roses. But then again, it wouldn't surprise me if it didn't. Would it surprise a cat?
Monday, May 24, 2010
Friday, May 7, 2010
It would be foolish to posit that the sports car is merely an extension of the Hammer of Thor. Not because the sports car doesn't find its silhouette cast on the foggy mists of the mind by a dense bright speck of lust that shapes it into a rooster-tail plume, and not because the sports car's some sort of suitlike second one may put on to limn lust in a body — for it of course plays the first rôle when cast by the second in the part, and it is always thus cast, of course — but because the Hammer of Thor is itself just an organic symbol and vehicle for the exercise of a different lust, a want, a lack at the center of the self that needs filling. Flesh & brain wish to merge perception and reality to come close to the grace of oblivion because selves themselves have no real support against the sense that reality itself might not after all be just two seemingly eye-shaped cut-outs into a spacetime fence between oblivion and what seems to happen.