An Instructive Exchange
Gypsy Scholar is pretty well-informed about things, but Jeffery Hodges is still rather ignorant and therefore tends to learn something new every day . . . as you shall see in today's borrowed dialogue.
Over at Waka Waka Waka, my online friend Malcolm Pollack noted my blog entry on Tawfik Hamid and was impressed by . . . well, you'll see what impressed him. In his own words:
There are those who would have us believe that the root causes of Islamic terrorism are poverty and political oppression, and that if we Americans weren't such swaggering imperialists, and could just get along a little more amicably with other cultures, we'd have less to worry about. Nothing could be farther from the truth. Our friend Jeffery Hodges (is he really out of bed and writing blog posts at 4:09 a.m.?) offers further evidence here.Since Malcolm had asked for confirmation of what had particularly impressed him in my blog post on Tawfik Hamid, I provided it:
Out of bed at 4:09 a.m.? Me? Is that what the blog entry showed?Malcolm, nontheist though he may be, sought divine explanation:
Ha! Ha! Ha! Of course I'm not.
No, I'm out of bed at 3:00 a.m., doing my best to save Western civilization. I don't know why the time recorded was so late. Maybe I websurfed too long. I'll try to do better from now on...
Three o'clock? Why in God's name are you up at such an hour??? Do you have cows to milk?Although I do milk the cows of solitude during these early morning hours, my clarification focused on a greater than bovine task:
I shall charitably assume you simply haven't got to bed yet; after all, that's only an hour two after I usually hit the sack.
In God's name, I am up at that godforsaken hour because -- as previously mentioned -- I am doing my best to save Western civilization.Which led Malcolm into an oblique allusion to The Dark Knight (itself possibly an even more oblique allusion to bats in somebody's Far Eastern belfry):
Pay attention!
Saving the West is a tough job, but somebody's got to do it, especially in those godforsaken hours when even the abstract entities are somnolent and neglecting their duties, so I do indeed rise early.
No need to thank me. Virtue is its own reward.
I guess saving Western civilization can only be accomplished while the banks are open in Los Angeles, or something.To which, I racheted up the degree of my great sacrifice:
But to get up at three a.m. (!!!) you must have to go to bed at about eight in the evening or so, an hour at which, in most of the civilized world (or here in Gotham, at least), one is more apt to be discussing an appropriate selection with the sommelier, or flipping through Playbill, waiting for the curtain to rise.
We appreciate your sacrifice, of course.
I usually get to bed between 10 and 10:30, so my sacrifice of sleep in indeed great.And I also gave evidence of the sufferings that I so quixotically endure:
But saving the West -- unlike saving money (which nobody does anymore anyway) -- requires no open banks, whether in Gotham, The City of Angels, or my very own Seoul.
Uh . . . "is indeed great." I guess that I need some more shut-eye to have better open-eye.For which, Malcolm graciously if indirectly thanked me:
But orthography is merely one of those sacrifices...
Well, Jeffery, we in the West are in your debt. Your efforts seem to be paying off, so far at least: the seats are full on Broadway, and Lorin Maazel is still swinging the lumber up at Avery Fisher Hall.Which led to my couplet of ignorance:
Malcolm, I'm tempted to quip:Leading, in turn, to Malcolm's own amusing nod to the muse (and note his noteworthy pun):
Who in the hell
Is Lorin Maazel?
Which would be a nice couplet and my shortest poem but also demonstrate my ignorance, so I Wikied him and now know the man.
I'm gratified to learn that my early morning efforts are paying off my own debt to Western civilization.
If I may be your instructor --A dialogue that I wrapped up (maybe) with a comment on the unfinished project of the West:
He's a noted conductor.
Thanks, Malcolm. I've been so busy defending Western civilization that I've not had much time to learn about it.Gypsy Scholar readers, meanwhile, should feel free to laugh at my bold ignorance in its trajectory toward the coincidence of opposites that characterizes Nicholas of Cusa's learned ignorance...
Next time you pass Avery Fisher Hall, give my regards to Mr. Maazel for swinging the lumber and directing his work crew in the ongoing construction of the West...
Labels: Batman, Don Quixote, Humor, Islam, Lorin Maazel, Tawfik Hamid, Terrorism, Western Civilization
6 Comments:
A delightful exchange as always, Jeffery. And I certainly hadn't intended my astonished aside regarding your bizarre diurnal rhythms to distract in any way from my readers' appreciation of your excellent (and chilling) post about Hamid.
Though from bed Jeff must climb
while his eyes are still bleary,
it gives him the time
to discuss Zawahiri.
We are all in your debt.
Nice verse, Malcolm. It even seems to scan well if one reads the beat properly.
As for the real aim of my posts, well, those Islamists have to get up pretty early in the morning to fool me.
Unfortunately, as once upon a time with the British Empire, the sun never sets on the Islamists . . . which means that we Kufr must also form our own worldwide empire of the mind.
Jeffery Hodges
* * *
Well, of course it scans well, Jeffery. I mean if I'm going to come in and start making myself at home at your website, the least I can do is pay some attention to detail.
Oh, one could always claim the mantle of those beat poets, who were too beat to keep to the beat -- though they were all rather upbeat about their intention to beat the metrical system, so they ought to all get beat up, but I'll be beat if I know who could do that to any dead-beat among them.
Jeffery Hodges
* * *
Well, when it comes to versifying, I tend to stick to the beaten path. Why? Beats me.
I'd carry on with this sparkling persiflage, but it's late here, and frankly I'm too beat. Anyway, I don't want to beat a dead horse.
So I'll just beat it.
Malcolm, you beat me to the punch.
Ain't English grand!
(Sweet dreams...)
Jeffery Hodges
* * *
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