I love you, therefore you are here.
For the first time in days I got dressed;
and I walked outside this morning,
and I saw a new heaven and a new earth.
From "For Frank Stanford" by Franz Wright, out of God's Silence
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The long silences need to be loved, perhaps
more than the words
which arrive
to describe them
in time.
Franz Wright, God's Silence [excerpt]
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Anya Krugovoy Silver, Saint Agnostica
[ID: Many days, I want to throw my fists against God’s body. / But nothing, nothing.]
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🙃 Regular reminder that while Hozier has amazing love songs, he is ALSO very outspoken about his leftist politics, specifically anti-fascism, anti-racism, reproductive rights, Palestinian rights and more.
Take Me To Church and Foreigner’s God are scathing critiques of organized religion, specifically the Catholic Church and the colonization of Ireland.
Moment’s Silence is about oral sex but it’s ALSO about how that specific sexual act is often distorted to a show of power rather than that of love.
Nina Cried Power is an homage to various (mostly Black) civil rights activists from the US and Ireland and a call to follow their path.
Be criticizes anti-migrant policies and Trump and his ilk.
Jackboot Jump is about the global wave of fascism and about protest and resistance.
Swan Upon Leda is about reproductive rights and the violent colonial oppression of Ireland and Palestine.
Eat Your Young is about the ruinous way the 1%/capitalism and arms dealers prioritize short-term profit over everything else to the detriment of the youth/99%
Butchered Tongue is about Irish and other indigenous languages being suppressed and erased by imperial powers.
If any of the above surprised you, please, please delve deeper into Hozier’s music, you’re missing such an important part of his work.
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March 27, 2024
A Means Of Creation
remnants of a life misplaced
dissolving by accidents of timing
-----
regrets a steady tide moving over
emotions evaporated in choices
-----
behavior flows and requires the
implicit desire to become a force
-----
of rapture, the aged spots tell a
story of struggles with hands week
-----
with prayers, one finds solace beyond
our reach as we shuffle to bed in
-----
silent breaths, which are the ones
to regret for the decisions of an
-----
unknown force created by yourself for
we need truth but succumb to the lies
-----
betrayed by our ignorance of choice for
our truth seeks above our holy god's silence
-----
wishful thinking causes pain in your retreat
for the inner self alone unnourished abandoned
-----
for our need to be present in the physical sense is
more important than knowing your other realities
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Why is the winter light
disturbing, and who
if anyone shares this impression?
If somebody enters the room
am I going to stop being afraid?
Why am I afraid
to go grocery shopping?
I suppose there is a pill for that, but
why? Surrounded by so vast
a cloud of witnesses
why do I feel this alone
in the first place? Is heaven a place
and if so, will our poor
hairy speechless forebears-
all millions of years of them-
be there to greet us
if and when we arrive? The meek
shall inherit Auschwitz, too,
if they're not careful. Where do such obscenities
of thought originate? And are the words
we speak being mercilessly recorded, or
are we speaking the already written
premeditated words? Why
do I want to live
forever, and the next day
fervently wish I had died
when I was young? Why do I abruptly feel blessed?
And if (and it does) this city harbors
a single individual suffering
unendurably, am I
prepared to take his place?
*
Empty me of the bitterness and disappointment of being nothing but
myself
Immerse me in the mystery of reality
Fill me with love for the truly afflicted
that hopeless love, if need be
make me one of them again --
Awaken me to the reality of this place
and from the longed-for or remembered place
And more than thus, behind each face
induct, oh introduce me in --
to the halting disturbed ungrammatical soundless
words of others' thoughts
not the drivel coming out of our mouths
Blot me out, fill me with nothing but consciousness
of the holiness, the meaning
of these unseeable, all
these unvisitable worlds which surround me:
others' actual thoughts -- everything
I can't perceive yet
know
know it is there.
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The Bat-Adoption Papers are literal Magic Contracts
So! In the Deified Batman AU (the AU where the Belief of the peoples of Gotham accidentally Ascended Batman to minor godhood), the Bat Adoption Papers would be a fun concept.
Batman is a God of The Night, Fear, and Protection. Specifically, the protection of Children, which is one of his biggest motivators. Meaning, it's a big part of his Divine Domain.
So when he, a God of Protection and Children, adopts his own Child? It's kind of a big deal.
His Adoption Papers basically become Magical Contracts that claim Dick to him as his own Son, basically turning Dick into a Demigod by the fact that he is the Son of a God.
Then each time Batman adopts a kid, they become a Demigod as well. Maybe after enough time, and after they forge their own Identities, they could become Minor Gods of their own? Idk, fun idea
Why do I bring this up?
Well, when Danny eventually joins the JLA, and runs into Batman, all he sees in a God of the Night, who takes one look at him, and then pulls out a Magical Binding Contract from his Belt.
Needless to say, he books it.
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And everything that once was
infinitely far
and unsayable is now
unsayable
and right here in the room.
Franz Wright, God’s Silence [excerpt]
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