"A Poet’s Advice to Students" and more

I’ve been thinking a lot about E.E. Cummings lately. When I was a teenager in the 1960s, he shaped my thinking and showed me goals to aim for … I remember the the feeling of recognition (“Yes, this is it!”) when reading his books and poetry, and my disgust when I read Ayn Rand.

I’m off to find “The Enormous Room” so that I can reread it, and  I’ve just reordered another copy of “i, six nonlectures” – they keep getting given away.

Here is a quote from “nonlectures”:

“Little by little and bruise by teacup, my doubly disillusioned spirit made an awesome discovery…that all groups, gangs, and collectives — no matter how apparently disparate — are fundamentally alike; and that what makes the world go ’round is not the trivial differences between them but the immeasurable difference between any of them and individuality.”

And another:

“Better Worlds are born, not made, and their birthdays are the birthdays of individuals. Let us pray always for individuals; never for worlds.”

More here:
http://wellthereyougo.wordpress.com/2002/12/19/emergency/

As I see it, Cummings’ advice to students applies to all of us:

“A lot of people think or believe or know they feel—but that’s thinking or believing or knowing; not feeling. And poetry is feeling—not knowing or believing or thinking.

Almost anybody can learn to think or believe or know, but not a single human being can be taught to feel. Why? Because whenever you think or you believe or you know, you’re a lot of other people : but the moment you feel, you’re nobody-but-yourself.”

Read the rest of his advice here

Martin Luther King, Nichelle Nichols and Star Trek

On the day after the massacre here in Norway, I am speechless – there are no words for what I’m feeling.

I was going to link to this article yesterday:

“Nichelle Nichols thanks a special fan for the lifetime role of Uhura”

It’s even more relevant today.

Martin Luther King said to her: “You cannot leave. It can wait. It’s part of history now. This man has made this show that projects 300 years from now. This is who we are and we are beginning here, and you’re representing us. You cannot leave because nobody can replace you. Only you.”

I would love to believe that Star Trek “projects 300 years from now”.
Right now I can’t.
Yet I can hope. And wish. And I do.