We are “Plac’d on this isthmus of a middle state” . . .
Alexander Pope by Sir Godfrey Kneller, 1719 © Private Collection, via the British Library
By JoeAm
One of my sources, those spread across the globe like a spider’s web, each node a listening post, today entrusted me with the wisdom of Alexander Pope, which I shall reproduce in a moment.
Do you read poetry? Not many do, I think. Anyone who reads poetry has undoubtedly tried, and maybe succeeded, at penning his own rhythms of insight. Like Popoy, or even me. I once penned a 20 page piece, quite rich with humor and meaning, that started with the village priest running off with the farmer’s daughter. My mother turned quite stern when reading it and I recognized immediately that perhaps I should have been more circumspect before allowing her that opportunity.
I present the following particular bit of verse for the people who attach teary eyed emoticons to their reactions, for sadness is not an emotion we should allow to attach to the political acts of man. It would be better to attach acts that correct the errors. Perhaps they will find comfort in recognizing that we are not alone, this has been done before. We are simply actors on a grand stage, and someone has just tossed us an ad-lib line.
Now, make no mistake, this bit of verse is no easy read. It requires patience and a little imaginative interpretation of olde Englishe. I take it one line at a time, for each line is a gem of insight, on its own, but requires those before and after for richer context.
Plac’d on this isthmus of a middle state,
A Being darkly wise, and rudely great:
With too much knowledge for the Sceptic side,
With too much weakness for the Stoic’s pride,
He hangs between; in doubt to act, or rest;
In doubt to deem himself a God, or Beast;
In doubt his mind or body to prefer;
Born but to die, and reas’ning but to err;
Alike in ignorance, his reason such,
Whether he thinks too little, or too much;
Chaos of Thought and Passion, all confus’d;
Still by himself, abus’d or disabus’d;
Created half to rise and half to fall;
Great Lord of all things, yet a prey to all,
Sole judge of truth, in endless error hurl’d;
The glory, jest and riddle of the world
Essay on Man, Alexander Pope.
The Society of Honor by Joe America 
Thanks Joe for this — poetry, a balm for our difficult times, considering, as you noted, that what we are experiencing in politics is nothing new. I am still digesting this part of Alexander Pope’s Essay of Man, Epistle II.
Yes, occasionally we need to remind ourselves that people are not ganging up on us, it is the nature of man to be so confused, ignorant, or ill-intended.
ps, nice statistics!
I read the quoted verse several times and, from one who is not at all a writer of poetry, I believe translating that to prose would lose its impact and “turn of phrase” beauty. Of course, one beautiful aspect is the varied interpretation details one gives to the reading.
Hooray for poets!
Yes, people read it the way that fits. Some are reading it as a condemnation of fence-sitters.
Just as Pope’s bottom line conlusion in his Essay on Man is men are learned fools, so too Joe views Philippines a land of happy fools.
Pope says with all philosophical and scientific knowledge, man will still never know God’s designs. So perhaps there is a reason for Philippines to fall deeper into the dark abyss that beckons in this election.
I too do not know God’s designs. But I know God has shown us the path for man to thread. If Filipinos chose to deviate and uphold a murderous regime and vote in candidates of ill repute, as the latest surveys seem to indicate, then woe unto the people.
As I read up on Pope, after receiving a copy of the poem, I found myself rather liking the guy. Similarly driven, similarly striving to figure out the reasons, similarly finding satire as a good way to express criticisms.
I reckon and methinks I need to brush up on me oldé enhilshé.
I am now reading some Mighty Thor comics.
J/k
“I am just updating a line to our times of guttery septic discourse.
A Being darkly wise, and rudely great:
With too much knowledge for the Septic side….”
Septic is in a tank, or sceptic as in wondering what the hell is going on? haha
Meaning sceptic is the ‘Old English’ of skeptic? I wonder what the ‘Old English’ is of septic? Septik? 🙂
[I know, I know. Corny it is.]
O, sh-t! It’s the tail end of 20 Mar 2019, I’m 75.33 yrs old and I find out the difference between prose & poetry! I’m royally screwed. 😦 Heck, I also find out what “shill” means. C’est la vie, you win some, you lose some. Thanks, Joe, Mr Pope & TSoH! Hello, poetry …
Ahahahaha, no, you are now saved!!!
This is why I have to check on what TSoH is checking on. 🙂 (Do call me Doutreval, Joe)
🙂
Sonny, your comment reminds me of one of my favorite writers who writes what is termed “prose poetry”. I think I have mentioned him here, long ago. He just goes to show that we ought not let our writing be defined by form, but by meaning:
Football
BY LOUIS JENKINS
I take the snap from the center, fake to the right, fade back…
I’ve got protection. I’ve got a receiver open downfield…
What the hell is this? This isn’t a football, it’s a shoe, a man’s
brown leather oxford. A cousin to a football maybe, the same
skin, but not the same, a thing made for the earth, not the air.
I realize that this is a world where anything is possible and I
understand, also, that one often has to make do with what one
has. I have eaten pancakes, for instance, with that clear corn
syrup on them because there was no maple syrup and they
weren’t very good. Well, anyway, this is different. (My man
downfield is waving his arms.) One has certain responsibilities,
one has to make choices. This isn’t right and I’m not going
to throw it.
*******
Sonny, don’t despair.
This stuff is too deep for me.
*****
isu ngarud, edgar. Makapaturog … 🙂
Popoy
Anytime now.
Do your Prose Poetry obra maestra.
There is Pope Alexander I to Pope Alexander VI
Don’t ask me how they live and ruled
There is also Alexander Pope probably
A Cockney? bloke born and died in the months of May
For the here and now There is also Pope Oy
born and probably will die also in the month of May
still a wannabe writing essays to become poetry.
Pope Oy now enticed by JoeAm to interpret
Alex Pope the Essayist Poet.
Plac’d on this isthmus of a middle state,
Palawan if connected to Mindoro will be an
isthmus worthy of a New Zealand. Tayabas Isthmus
connects parts of Luzon to the Bicol peninsula of
the Philippines of middle earth.
A Being darkly wise, and rudely great:
It is a person now man or woman who is questionably,
sinisterly wise and offensively excessively rude:
With too much knowledge for the Sceptic side,
Knowing abrasively lots of things on the cynical side
With too much weakness for the Stoic’s pride,
Proud of being unfeeling, unconcerned
He hangs between; in doubt to act, or rest;
He vacillates, to do or not do, or just relax
In doubt to deem himself a God, or Beast;
Not even sure he is Almighty, or man eater
In doubt his mind or body to prefer;
Not sure thinking what’s for his body
Born but to die, and reas’ning but to err;
To live and die only to be wrong
Alike in ignorance, his reason such,
Not knowing why living and dying
Whether he thinks too little, or too much;
Even by thinking so few or so many
Chaos of Thought and Passion, all confus’d;
A problem of clash between mind and emotion
Still by himself, abus’d or disabus’d;
Alone exploited or assisted
Created half to rise and half to fall;
Made halfway to climb or crash down
Great Lord of all things, yet a prey to all,
Boss of all issues but a punching bag
Sole judge of truth, in endless error hurl’d;
Decider of what is right yet wrong most times
The glory, jest and riddle of the world
Such falsity, corny joke, and puzzle of the world
Essay on Man, Alexander Pope.
—————
Who are these men or women leaders –PAST and PRESENT– of the most or lest powerful countries of the world who fit Alex Pope’s essay poetry?
It is a person long ago or now man or woman
who is questionably, sinisterly wise and
offensively excessively rude:
Knowing abrasively lots of things on the cynical side
Proud of being unfeeling, unconcerned
He vacillates, to do or not do, or just relax
Not even sure he is Almighty, or man eater
Not sure thinking what’s good for his body
To live and die only to be wrong
Not knowing why living and dying
Even by thinking so few or so many
There’s a problem of clash and conflict
between mind and emotion
Alone exploited or assisted
Made halfway to climb or crash down
Boss of all issues but a punching bag
Decider of what is right yet wrong most times
Such abomination, human falsity, corny joke,
and puzzle of the world .
–Popoy’s interpretation of . . .
Essay on Man, Alexander Pope.
THE QUESTION is who in History or the present time could be the
Guys and dolls being alluded by Sandy Pope or Pope Oy?
THERE YOU GO KARL.
Right on the nose, Popoy. Like Karl said. 🙂
Now, NOW, who could this be, the muse of Sandy Pope’s poetry. Who then could they be, when they aren’t Barack or Hilary or Pnoy or Mar Palengke? Don’t ask me what you already know. Because even wannabe poets don’t like to mention names that readers already know.
Wow! Thanks Pope Oy!
*******
Clap, clap, clap!
*****
Very nice, Popoy, Pope eye, seeing through
Poor Alexander. Does he know Duterte hates Popes?. Matters not first or last in name.
Even across long history,
lahat may bayad.
Patay na si Alex nangungulekta pa.
O Captain my Captain
our fearful trip is done;
please understand
the master of my fate,
the captain of my soul.
Poor Alexander–feels like–is
What a sentence of stainless irony;
his poetry like time traveler to the future,
castigated and mocked misleaders
of their people.
Rizal’s Mi Ultimo Adios paid homage
to all those who fell
and will fall in the night.
Morir is descansar, but life
Is most precious loan of patriots
To be paid in full by tyrants
Across mankind’s history.
Honor and lack of it is not
like assumptions in economics
because by living life with honor
there is neither law of supply and demand
nor affected by rise and fall of inflation
and eche bucheche of diminishing returns.
Alex P might be saying there are
Credit and Debit, saints and scalawags,
thieves and honorable men but, But
(it’s I or is it It’s me not you Chemrock)
it’s really too much putting stretch to this spin
when this fart is what perhaps
only one among many interpretation
on what Alex Pope was trying
to slay este essay with his poem.
i did stop reading after the word Poe…. 🙂
I prefer veggies:
https://mobile.twitter.com/marocharim/status/1107975529070628867
One morning, when the blogger woke from uneasy dreams, he found himself transformed in his bed into an enormous okra. He lay on his fur-lined body, and if he lifted his head a little he would see his entire being colored in a verdant shade of green.
https://mobile.twitter.com/marocharim/status/1107982722247458816
Many years later, as he faced the cooking squad, he was to remember that distant afternoon when he asked them to state categorically what okra stands for.
At the time it was a kitchen of three boiling dishes, boiled with clear water, along with a bed of greens and cut-up squash.
https://mobile.twitter.com/marocharim/status/1107983663206010880
*******
I laugh at his parody of great and not-so-great literature.
*****
I’m reminded of “The Milagro Beanfield War”, a hilarious riot of a book that got made into a movie and examined social and political tensions among the poor. Perhaps someone will publish “The Philippine Okra War”.
*******
This is my paraphrase with apologies to Pope, NHerrera, and Popoy.
Between the continents of Birth and Death, in the isthmus of Life,
Lives a Creature who can be stupidly wise and foolishly great.
He knows too much to be faithless
And is too much a square to be cool
He does not know whether to do or just be
He does not know whether he is God or Beast
He does not know whether to cultivate his mind or his body
He is born to die and to think illogically
His reasoning is full of fallacies
Whether he thinks too little or too much
His mind and his heart are confused
At times enslaved, at other times free
He was born half to fly and half to fall
The Master of all things, yet a Slave to all
He alone judges what is true… yet misjudges all the time
He is a hero and a joke… and the mystery of the world
***
I am intrigued by the question of whether a man is God or Beast — or just plain vanilla.
In the Philippine context:
o Is he a god like Robredo or a beast like Duterte?
o Is she a goddess like Leni or a beastess like Gloria?
o Is he a beastly god like Trillanes or a godly beast like Heydarian?+
o Is she a beastly goddess like Catriona++ or a godly beastess like Acosta?+++
+ Too soon?
++ Isn’t that lava-walk just beastly?
+++ Aren’t her histrionics Oscar worthy?
*****
https://mobile.twitter.com/marocharim/status/1107994012995080193
Nang mag-RT ako sa yo akala ko hinala ko ay tunay
Pero hindi nagtagal lumabas din ang tunay na gulay.
https://mobile.twitter.com/ibrsalazar/status/1108464941755977728
Thus spake Heydarian
We must find a middle
Between Ahura Mazda
And the devil Ahriman
No, said Zarathustra
Only we own the fire
The middle is for fools
And guns for hire
Yes, said Mabanta
For we are brothers
And that counts more
Than our different mothers
https://mobile.twitter.com/ibrsalazar/status/1108466654483238913
Joe America is the Great Satan
Enemy of our new true friend
China whose loans we trust
No more dams made in Japan
Let us protect the Poe zone layer
Where we hurt and help no one
Those without true form survive
Not the devotees of San Amagan
(Thx to LCPL_X for sparking this)
Wasn’t I, a bullseye right Edgar to say you’re a fine cut D.
slashing to pieces dark glass and mirror on the wall;
While IBRS is right at the cutting edge of alchemy to be
like never so few shining too like a high carat G. And
TSoH or JoeAm what will be shall be the consequence
he shall also serve he who sits and wait courageously.
.
Bull’s eye, a cut above the rest!
IBRS an alchemist, who combines chemistry with magic!
When it comes to cooking, I still have a lot to learn, especially veggies!
Valerio, Verdi and Okra – a thread.
Italian youth shouted Valerio for nights on end, summer of 1998..
Why? Lights went out at a rock concert, the organizers called for the technician Valerio.. it spread.
Italians in the Austrian occupied part of the country could get jailed for shouting “Verdi, Verdi!”.. (NOTE: this was mid-1800s)
..not because composer Verdi was a nationalist, but because it meant Vittorio-Emmanuele-Re-D’Italia = V.E. (of Sardinia) King of Italy, pushed by nationalists.
As for okra, that is inbred.
Maybe alchemy can concoct an okra dish, if alchemy fails we call tech support, they can 3d print the okra, if the tech fails then riot then go to jail
Or just go to a concert does not matter if it is rock or opera.
This kind of music maybe?
Or this.
Lucky day!!
https://mobile.twitter.com/ibrsalazar/status/1109058634632318976
Okra chicken curry. Life is good.
*******
piquant [ pee-kuhnt, -kahnt, pee-kahnt]
adjective
1. agreeably pungent or sharp in taste or flavor; pleasantly biting or tart:
a piquant aspic.
2. agreeably stimulating, interesting, or attractive:
a piquant glance.
3. of an interestingly provocative or lively character:
a piquant wit.
4. Archaic . sharp or stinging, especially to the feelings.
*****
Good for you.Yum.Malzheit! Guten Appetit!
Hey, Hey Edgar speaking of Goddess not beastess, do you know in another language the name of a Lotus flower goddess? She could be the first woman USA President. TSoH should know. Eh.
*******
My first guess was Kamala.
Thanks, Popoy. Didn’t know she was a lotus.
*****
I don’t think she packs enough punch to make it. Just a hunch.
Here’s an informative link but be warned it’s a long read and could be tangential to TSoH’s comment:
Click to access 2018-AA-Voter-Survey-report-Oct9.pdf
Asian American voter preferences in 2018. Thanks. I was surprised that Vietnamese like Trump’s performance. Filipinos second at backing him.
*******
“Vietnamese American voters prefer Republican candidates in House races, and Filipino voters outside of California have a slight preference for Republican Senate candidates.”
I guess the bias is the pull of the American Dream of prosperity — and not the democratic dream of equality.
*****
Even Katipunan era Filipinos emphasized “kaginhawaan” as much as kasarinlan or kalayaan.
“The native only cares for his lechon” said the Spanish. Well, Ilocanos eat okra as part of pinakbet, guess that is one part of their being capable of delaying gratification.
On the other hand, Imee does not have that, unable to finish anything. To okra or not, that is the question. Whether it is bitter to bear the bitter taste today in order to be healthy tomorrow, or to die, to sleep, perchance to dream of okra?
Kuan Yin
Had to look it up.
https://simple.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Guan_Yin
@IBRS,
Thanks for sharing the tweets of Mark Remorin.