Challenge Pit: May 2005

why

F Ghaemi
December 1987

Ode on an Iranian Banknote

Thou Iranian green-back banknote
Thou foster child of toil and thought;
All the people crave and covet
To see thy mien which is well-wrought

Money's beauty, beauty's money

Thou hast a symphony and a song
To the rich do they belong
Thy shape's beautiful but unseen
Thy music's nice but unsung

Money is truth, truth is money

People all bow thee to reach
Thou art sweet like a peach
All of them clap, all applause
And mutter them each to each

Money's beauty, beauty's money

Though an alien, come to me
Though a stranger, let me see
Thou honourable master of economy
Let me have a glance on thee

Money's truth, truth is money

(F Ghaemi, 18/11/1367)

Elahi Ghomshei
December 1998

Dariush Shaigan
December 1998

Baha-o-din Khoramshahi
December 1998

brother can you spare me food and give me a drink of wine (Chris de Burgh) [forget about the dessert!]

Michael Harvey
One card from Michael Harvey's White Papers [set of 71 5 x 8 inch index cards (NY: 1971)]:

the practice comma art comma method comma or system of inserting points or open single quote periods closed single quote to aide the sense comma in writing or printing semicolon division into sentences comma clauses comma etc period by means of points or periods period other punctuation marks comma e period g period exclamation marks comma question marks comma refer to the tone or structure of what precedes them period a sentence can contain any of these symbols comma its termination marked by a period period

The practice, art, method, or system of inseritng points or (periods) to aid the sense, in writing or printing; division into sentences, clauses, etc. by means of points or periods. Other punctuation marks, e.g. exclamation marks, question marks, refer to the tone or structure of what precedes them. A sentence can contain any of these symbols, its termination marked by a period.

so what

J Conrad suggests that what makes mankind tragic is not that they are the victims of nature, it is that they are conscious of it. To be part of the animal kingdom under the conditions of this earth is very well_but soon as you know of your slavery, the pain, the anger, the stife...the tragedy begins.
_ consciousness is a disease (Unamuno)
_ knowledge is the enemy of life (Mann)
_ man can only live happily if he doesn't know it well (Schopenhauer)
_ happiness is to know nothing (Chinese proverb)
_ seek not, for thou shalt not find it, what my end,
what thein shall be;
be thou wise; fill up the wine-cup; shortening,
since thy time is brief,
hopes that reach into the future (Horace)
_ leave the mystery, chant and wine
no one has solved it aided by reason and logic (Hafez)
_ finding out the secret of rose is not our job
our business is perhaps
wandering after serenades of truth
amidst lotus flower and century (Sepehri)

so what?!

The Secret Agent

'Poor brute.'
Hanging back suddenly, Stevie inflicted an arresting jerk upon his sister.
'poor! poor!' he ejaculated appreciatively. 'Cabman poor, too. He told me himself.'
..._at the poor cabman beating the poor horse in the name, as it were, of his poor kids at home. And Stevie knew what it was to be beaten. He knew it from experience. It was a bad world. Bad! Bad!
Mrs Verloc, his only sister, guardian, and protector, could not pretend to such depths of insight...'Come along Stevie. You can't help that.'
'Beastly!' he added, concisely...
'Police,' he suggested, confidently.
'The police aren't there for that,' observed Mrs Verloc, curiously, hurrying on her way.
Stevie's face lengthened considerably....
'Not for that?' he murmbled, resigned but surprised. 'Not for that?' He had formed for himself an ideal conception of the cosmopolitan police as a sort of benevolent institution for the suppression of evil...
'What are they for then, Winn? What are they for? Tell me.'
...
'Don't you know what the police are for, Stevie? They are there so that them as have nothing shouldn't take anything away from them who have.'
...
'What?' he asked at once, anxiously. 'Not even if they were hungry? Mustn't they?'
The two had paused in their walk.
'Not if they were ever so,' said Mrs Verloc, with the equanimity of a person untroubled by the problem of the distribution of wealth and exploring the perspective of the roadway for an omnibus of the right colour. 'Certainly not. But what's the use of talking about all that? Your aren't ever hungry.' (from Pp 142, 143, 144)