On Technology and Sorcery

I've been working over the past couple years on an argument for God by mystery (arguing that all things are supernatural by analogy with gravity and magnetism), but it is still scattered in various pages of notes. Until then, here are some thoughts on the miraculous. As with most of my posts (but especially with this one), I should say that many of these thoughts are not mine. I must thank my Petra education for most of the material here.

First, a quote from G.K. Chesterton (out of a book that I have regrettably not yet read.)

All the terms used in the science books, 'law,' 'necessity,' 'order,' 'tendency,' and so on, are really unintellectual .... The only words that ever satisfied me as describing Nature are the terms used in the fairy books, 'charm,' 'spell,' 'enchantment.' They express the arbitrariness of the fact and its mystery. A tree grows fruit because it is a magic tree. Water runs downhill because it is bewitched. The sun shines because it is bewitched. I deny altogether that this is fantastic or even mystical. We may have some mysticism later on; but this fairy-tale language about things is simply rational and agnostic.
—Orthodoxy, Chapter IV: The Ethics of Elfland, 1909

As usual, Chesterton's point is powerfully put. Why should the common be commonplace? Why is it any more rational that water should flow down than up? Is it a scientific fact that our planet is warmed by a great levitating ball of fire, or is it part of the setting of a great Story-teller? or both? Where does science end and science fiction begin? We have become so accustomed to water turning into wine slowly that it seems impossible that it should happen instantly. How obvious it seems that water should turn into ice or even vanish into thin air, but absurd that it should turn into blood. A levitating helicopter, commonplace; but a levitating person, miraculous. What is the line between mirrors and magic, between technology and sorcery, or between tornadoes and tempests? Need we draw one at all?

A possible objection to viewing natural acts as magic is an appeal to science: That which happens commonly can be explained by natural causes; that which can't be explained (e.g. gravity, quantum mechanics) simply hasn't been explained yet. Essentially, it's not levitation if you can see the wires.
However, is a magic trick any less miraculous because the magician holds a wand through which the magic passes? Our scientific analysis of the natural world is merely a conduit for the miracles we observe daily. Is a seed becoming an oak tree any less miraculous because it's made of cells that grow? Isn't it equally miraculous that cells can clone themselves? "Explaining" the miracle of plant growth no more takes away its miraculous nature than listing the ingredients in a loaf of bread un-bakes or un-kneads the dough.

In a similar vein...

Power Point 9/19/2011
The little man up front bounces
foot to foot
waves an outstretched arm
followed by rows of squinted eyes,
small beside the great curtain
he points.

Instantly ink splashes and runs
down
into words
on the screen spelling

"Enzymes are proteins that catalyze chemical reactions."
One step too far.
The professor casts his shadow on the screen.
A glimpse of the cunning device in his hand.
The students still stare in silence.

And on again,
he casts revelations
on the screen
once more.

But the wonder is the
glaze in our eyes
and the unapplauded sound
of the tired tip tap
of the worn brown shoes up front.

Fun with Linguistics

We are currently studying phonetics in my Linguistics class, which has made me wonderfully aware of the types of sounds I use in my poetry. The class gave me the idea to write a poem using only fricative consonants (and the occasional glide or liquid). Fricatives are consonants that are formed by almost completely closing the vocal tract, leaving air to escape through a small gap (i.e. f, v, s, z, h, th as in thigh, th as in thy, and the s sound in measure). This turned out to be more difficult that I envisioned, and so this next composition is not really poetry (unless loosely defined); but hopefully it will at least be a fun read (especially out loud). I might also try to write a poem using only forward sounds (bilabial, labiodental, and dental consonants along with front vowels.) I think these will be good exercises in poetic sound use for future poems.

Fricative Fish Fillet 9/10/2011
the chef fries fish with flour,
fuses this with these or those,
his sauce froths, seethes, sizzles
as he sifts five full fifths of flavor
(saves half, hashes half)
through the haze of fizzes and hisses
as he chefs and shifts, he says "hush"
and finishes it.

Optimism

where the only flight is dance 9/7/2011
The sky drops rain
water-bearing weary,
the sound of dripping
ground gives dull reply.
the clouds sun-shielding
bounce it back
the sunlight stuck sky high.

To think that one world up
atop the clouds
the sun still wishes well
with warming glances
bringing bright
above the rain
where no one dances.

And sometimes when it rains
I think that if
I fling a song at heaven
I'd have a chance
to break the clouds and
bring some heaven down to earth
where the only flight is dance.

The Lord's Table

Caveat: In this poem I am not saying that the way my church (and many other churches) performs communion is wrong; what I am saying is in the poem.

Thoughts on Attending Mass 9/5/2011
next on the program:
distribution of communion,
take a bit of his blood
and pass it on,
a thousand little cups
for a thousand members
around the Table

one cup per soul
gets it done
a little of Christ
for everyone

Is it one cup that we drink?
One for each?
Or one for all?

the Church is one
for Christ is one
he is here in the bread
he is here in the wine

and this is how we drink the cup
as one
the blood of Christ and the germs of our neighbor
as one
not at all safe, not at all clean but
as one.

Let Beauty...

I've only written a few poems in the past couple months, and I think it shows in this abstract, non-concrete poem. They have generally been about this topic, largely inspired by last year's rhetoric class.

Let Beauty 8/22/2011
Let beauty bow to nothing but the builder,
Exquisite form to nothing but the former.
Let light bend only to the gilder,
Gilding light to make it all the warmer.

Let beauty bend not even to itself.
Let beauty not surrender to itself.

For often the abundant soon turns common,
Turning common into commonplace.

Let beauty not give way to plenty.
Let love evoke eternal eyes
To view the gentle ever gently
Like Signor Benedick, new baptized.

Let pure sight see purely,
And love behold the lovely.

Let the wonderful be seen with wonder,
And love declare the lovely.

Let beauty not give way to prevalence,
And so belie the lovely.
Let beauty not surrender to itself,
But love reveal the lovely.

Approach of Spring

This next poem was written in the style and form of a William Carlos Williams poem called the Approach of Winter with a sort of "Mad Gab" technique. Here's the original:

Approach of Winter by William Carlos Williams
The half-stripped trees
struck by a wind together,
bending all,
the leaves flutter drily
and refuse to let go
or driven like hail
stream bitterly out to one side
and fall
where the salvias, hard carmine--
like no leaf that ever was--
edge the bare garden.


And here's my rendition:

Approach of Spring 5/15/2011
The half-risen flowers
squeezed by a force beneath,
extruding green,
the stalks wiggle upward
and burst to drink light
or branch like light
split brightly by a prism
and shine
where the dew, cedar woodchips-
denying any chill that winter left-
crowd the rising blooms.

Summer

Beginning of Summer Holiday 5/22/2011
I cleaned my desk,
the papers stacked and filed,
and in their place
are journals filled with empty pages;
Tolkien rests on top of Plato.

The brown leather shoes are put away,
shelved and empty,
and in their place
are hiking boots,
long laces running to the ground.

My khaki pants hang flat and still,
invisible feet beneath,
and in their place,
blue jeans run to the floor,
my feet beneath them,

standing at the screen door...