Monday, 31 December 2018

Quite The Contrary, Perhaps

By Rory A.A. Hinton













“And no matter what anyone else might do or say about it, however they might judge or evaluate it, all is irrelevant in the reality of my vocation to solitude, even though I am not a typical hermit. Quite the contrary, perhaps. It does not matter how I may or may not be classified. In the light of this simple fact of God’s love and the form it has taken in the mystery of my life, classifications are ludicrous, and I have no further need to occupy my mind with them (if I ever did) - at least in this connection.” (Thomas Merton).

Sources
Mark Rothko. Untitled (1962).
Thomas Merton. Dancing In The Water Of Life. HarperOne. 2009.

和歌 December 2018

By Rory A.A. Hinton


December 2018

Saturday December 01, 2018
There once was an old
ballpark on Stadium Road.
It was completely
and utterly demolished
to make way for lesser things.

Sunday December 02, 2018
The world that she made
began before I was born.
I first read of her
rushing through two thousand one
hundred and twelve liner notes.

Monday December 03, 2018
Heard it from the hall
way down inside, woman you
truly needed it.
At least you sounded like it
in your palace of mating.

Tuesday December 04, 2018
Inconsiderate.
Intolerably noisy.
It does not matter
that you were enjoying it.
What matters is my silence.

Wednesday December 05, 2018
Reading in earnest
Hemingway's early torrents
of spring in winter.
He has a place of honor:
the Karsh is hung by my door.

Thursday December 06, 2018
The more that I know,
the less that I want to be
a part of it all.
This old civilized man is
full of renewed discontent.

Friday December 07, 2018
From doing logic
in the manufacturing
warehouse that summer,
to writing pedagogic
within the academy.

Saturday December 08, 2018
It has been one week
since the formal move took place.
I am settling
into a new routine now,
while the old habits return.

Sunday December 09, 2018
The little sister
is constantly watching
my every movement.
This message and messenger
are as beautiful as her.

Monday December 10, 2018
Fifty years ago
today my solitary
master passed away.
I pay him living homage
this last month of the hermit.

Tuesday December 11, 2018
Hang your father's cross
very gently on the wall.
The shadow remains
as it was when I was too
young to take on the troubles.

Wednesday December 12, 2018
Hit the ground running
with my old Romanian
mistress memories.
Knowing that she is grateful
for her Blahniks is enough.

Thursday December 13, 2018
Was it the person
that produced the conception,
or rather was it
the conception that produced
this old Homeric person?

Friday December 14, 2018
Heard from my old cat
again after an absence.
All that she wanted
was to seductively purr
into my inviting ear.

Saturday December 15, 2018
The old alien
anthology is very
difficult to kill.
Still, it is less about death,
and so much more about stealth.

Sunday December 16, 2018
Alien anthem
and Andy's arias are
alphabetically
arranged and administered
autobiographically.

Monday December 17, 2018
Not that long ago ...
the gentle echo of her
Persian persuasion
proved to me that she's a muse
who does more than just amuse.

Tuesday December 18, 2018
The last flickering
remnants of the very last
flickering remnant.
My relatively obscure
pilot light is extinguished.

Wednesday December 19, 2018
The ambient sounds
of Deckhard's old apartment.
Strangely familiar.
Who plays beautifully for me?
The worst memories are hers.

Thursday December 20, 2018
The policed foyer
is as far as you will get.
Go ahead and take
pictures of my Christmas tree,
and toss yours while you're at it.

Friday December 21, 2018
Transhumanism.
Why do they try to stop it?
From TV programs
to computer programming:
resistance is futile.

Saturday December 22, 2018
I'm drinking Red Bull
first thing within the morning
now more than ever.
Ever since Baumgartner fell
to the earth, I've been jacked up.

Sunday December 23, 2018
Every so often
the sirens begin to sing
their destructive song.
They even use tunes I like.
The Garden is an instance.

Monday December 24, 2018
My own prison cell
devoted entirely
to my undoing.
For twenty four hours now
I stay wholly secluded.

Tuesday December 25, 2018
Concentrating on
the birth as well as the death
of the crucified.
Nothing more and nothing less
to stress over, finally.

Wednesday December 26, 2018
Still no word from them.
Be still and know that I am
good with this response.
This is what I have wanted.
Welcome to the new normal.

Thursday December 27, 2018
There's a new baby
now within the family.
I don't know her name.
I only heard second hand.
Third is more appropriate.

Friday December 28, 2018
For twelve straight hours
all my fingers kept moving
over the black keys.
I worked until I could not
work any longer at it.

Saturday December 29, 2018
It's the last weekend
of the year of the hermit.
I'm settled into
my manor and my manner.
The beginning of the end.

Sunday December 30, 2018
The external world
becomes physically distant.
The internal world
becomes timelessly present.
This is my reality.

Monday December 31, 2018
The refuged recluse
retreats from his fifty years
worth of recused clues.
Honestly hermeneuting
in the age of the hermit. 

Friday, 21 December 2018

Feuerbach's Essence

By Rory A.A. Hinton













The Essence Of Christianity is nothing but a footnote to Metaphysics. When Feuerbach states that he differs from those philosophers "who pluck out their eyes that they may see better; for my thought I require the senses, especially sight," he is echoing Aristotle: "All men by nature desire to know. An indication of this is in the delight we take in our senses; for even apart from their usefulness they are loved for themselves; and above all others the sense of sight." To therefore claim with Feuerbach that theology is anthropology is simply another way of saying with Aristotle that the essence of a thing is found within the thing itself: the soul of the eye is seeing.
     This is why Heidegger argues that you cannot have Being without human beings. And this is why Rahner argues that to carry out Feuerbach's program of reformulating dogmatic theology into theological anthropology does not necessarily mean that God gets reduced to Man. Ecce Homo is merely the means.
     It turns out after all that not all philosophy is but footnotes to Plato. Feuerbach’s Essence is an exceptional exception.

Sources
Aristotle. Metaphysics. Princeton University Press. 1991.
Karl Rahner. Foundations Of Christian Faith. Crossroad. 1982.
Ludwig Feuerbach. The Essence Of Christianity. Dover. 2008.
Martin Heidegger. Being And Time. Blackwell Publishers. 1962.
Thomas Sheehan. The Dream Of Karl Rahner. The New York Review Of Books. February 4, 1982.