Umpired Umbathy, Pathic and Pathological, Part VIII

On First Hooking onto Inflatable Hannah

 

Much have I travell'd in the realms of porn,
    And many goodly tits and ass seen;
    Round many southerly deltas have I been
Which bloggers in fealty to frustrated lust hold.
Oft of one wide expanse had I been told
    That deep-brow'd John Mayer ruled as his demesne;
    Yet did I never breathe its pure serene
Till I heard Sex Doll speak out loud and bold:
Then felt I like some watcher of the skies
    When a new planet swims into his ken;
Or like stout John Holmes when with eagle dick
    He star'd in the sex flicks--and all his co-stars
Look'd at each other with a wild surmise--
    Spent, upon a Hollywood hill, a Wonderland boulevard.
 

--John-Charles Keats-Keating

Umpired Umbathy, Pathic and Pathological, Part VII

“ I am not really a man of science, an artist, a poet, not an observer, not an experimenter, and not a thinker. I am nothing but by temperment a colonizer—a plunderer, if you want to translate the word--with the greed, the boldness and audacity, and the rapacious ambition belonging to that type of being. Such people are apt to be treasured if the region they colonize yields much richness—especially gold, jewels, and other precious metals and objects-- if they have really colonized, exploited, and sacked great wealth : otherwise they remain lower level mediocre bourgeois bureaucrats. “ -- Cigarchimper Fraud in a letter to his friend Fleeced, quoted by Joons, and taken from June Malcontent In the Fraud Accumulation of B.S., 1983, page 1,00,110,111,001,101.

Umpired Umbathy, Pathic and Pathological, Part V

On first looking into Chapman's Homer

Much have I travell'd in the realms of gold,
    And many goodly states and kingdoms seen;
    Round many western islands have I been
Which bards in fealty to Apollo hold.
Oft of one wide expanse had I been told
    That deep-brow'd Homer ruled as his demesne;
    Yet did I never breathe its pure serene
Till I heard Chapman speak out loud and bold:
Then felt I like some watcher of the skies
    When a new planet swims into his ken;
Or like stout Cortez when with eagle eyes
    He star'd at the Pacific--and all his men
Look'd at each other with a wild surmise--
    Silent, upon a peak in Darien.

--John Keats

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What I am trying to get at-- the poet portrays himself as an explorer, his reading as an exploration, and gives Cortez, a real explorer, poetic sensibilities, emotions. Do I think Keats' imaginative discoveries are real discoveries? How could they be? And yet I am uncertain about this. Maybe they were. Did Cortez or his men experienced poetic awe and wonder? I seriously doubt it. Keats speaks of a realm of gold--  a realm of treasure, of spiritual treasure. And surely Keats's works can be said to have added to this realm of treasure. Keats explorations enrich a realm of riches.  Cortez's travels are indeed to a realm of gold--which he and his men mercilessly plundered. The poetic act is virtuous and beautiful, but not real. The real act was overwhelmingly vicious and vile.    

Umpired Umbathy, Pathic and Pathological, Part VI

" I am not really a man of science, not an observer, not an experimenter, and not a thinker. I am nothing but by temperment a conquistador-- an adventurer, if you want to translate the word--with the curiosity, the boldness, and the tenacity that belong to that type of being. Such people are apt to be treasured if they succeed, if they have really discovered something: otherwise they are thrown aside." -- Sigmund Freud in a letter to his friend Fliess, quoted by Jones, and taken from Janet Malcolm In the Freud Archives 1983, page 102.