Dienstag, 24. Juni 2008

The Plastic Age

Foreword I

The Golden Age

(by Ovid. In English. Obviously)

The golden age was first; when Man yet new,
No rule but uncorrupted reason knew:
And, with a native bent, did good pursue.
Unforc'd by punishment, un-aw'd by fear,
His words were simple, and his soul sincere;
Needless was written law, where none opprest:
The law of Man was written in his breast:
No suppliant crowds before the judge appear'd,
No court erected yet, nor cause was heard:
But all was safe, for conscience was their guard.
The mountain-trees in distant prospect please,
E're yet the pine descended to the seas:
E're sails were spread, new oceans to explore:
And happy mortals, unconcern'd for more,
Confin'd their wishes to their native shore.
No walls were yet; nor fence, nor mote, nor mound,
Nor drum was heard, nor trumpet's angry sound:
Nor swords were forg'd; but void of care and crime,
The soft creation slept away their time.
The teeming Earth, yet guiltless of the plough,
And unprovok'd, did fruitful stores allow:
Content with food, which Nature freely bred,
On wildings and on strawberries they fed;
Cornels and bramble-berries gave the rest,
And falling acorns furnish'd out a feast.
The flow'rs unsown, in fields and meadows reign'd:
And Western winds immortal spring maintain'd.
In following years, the bearded corn ensu'd
From Earth unask'd, nor was that Earth renew'd.
From veins of vallies, milk and nectar broke;
And honey sweating through the pores of oak.


Foreword II
The Silver Age

But when good Saturn, banish'd from above,
Was driv'n to Hell, the world was under Jove.
Succeeding times a silver age behold,
Excelling brass, but more excell'd by gold.
Then summer, autumn, winter did appear:
And spring was but a season of the year.
The sun his annual course obliquely made,
Good days contracted, and enlarg'd the bad.
Then air with sultry heats began to glow;
The wings of winds were clogg'd with ice and snow;
And shivering mortals, into houses driv'n,
Sought shelter from th' inclemency of Heav'n.
Those houses, then, were caves, or homely sheds;
With twining oziers fenc'd; and moss their beds.
Then ploughs, for seed, the fruitful furrows broke,
And oxen labour'd first beneath the yoke.

Forword III
The Brazen Age

To this came next in course, the brazen age:
A warlike offspring, prompt to bloody rage, Not impious yet...


The Iron Age

Hard steel succeeded then:
And stubborn as the metal, were the men.
Truth, modesty, and shame, the world forsook:
Fraud, avarice, and force, their places took.
Then sails were spread, to every wind that blew.
Raw were the sailors, and the depths were new:
Trees, rudely hollow'd, did the waves sustain;
E're ships in triumph plough'd the watry plain.

Then land-marks limited to each his right:
For all before was common as the light.
Nor was the ground alone requir'd to bear
Her annual income to the crooked share,
But greedy mortals, rummaging her store,
Digg'd from her entrails first the precious oar;
Which next to Hell, the prudent Gods had laid;
And that alluring ill, to sight display'd.
Thus cursed steel, and more accursed gold,
Gave mischief birth, and made that mischief bold:
And double death did wretched Man invade,
By steel assaulted, and by gold betray'd,
Now (brandish'd weapons glittering in their hands)
Mankind is broken loose from moral bands;
No rights of hospitality remain:
The guest, by him who harbour'd him, is slain,
The son-in-law pursues the father's life;
The wife her husband murders, he the wife.
The step-dame poyson for the son prepares;
The son inquires into his father's years.
Faith flies, and piety in exile mourns;
And justice, here opprest, to Heav'n returns.




The Plastic Age

Plastic came at last,
Flexible as the substance when heated were the men.
And all became the same in different shapes
‘cause of the diversity (of molding tools):
Houses, ploughs, weapons, oar, ground, ships and trees,
All of plastic.
Wind and light come forth of plastic, too!
And more: justice, hospitality, fraud, avarice, and force Truth, modesty, and shame –
All moldable, changeable, formable at will.
At the will of the master of plastic – at the will of the Man of Plastic.

--- Plastic
Noun:
Any of numerous substances that can be shaped and molded when subjected to heat or pressure. Plastics are easily shaped because they consist of long-chain molecules known as polymers, which do not break apart when flexed. Plastics are usually artificial resins but can also be natural substances, as in certain cellular derivatives and shellac. Plastics can be pressed into thin layers, formed into objects, or drawn into fibers for use in textiles. Most do not conduct electricity well, are low in density, and are often very tough.

Adjective
Capable of being molded or formed into a shape.
à http://www.thefreedictionary.com/plastic ...
---

Plastic – has to be hot to be formed. Can only be brought in different forms when heated. If it lacks a given form, a molding tool, a templet, a model, a jig in which it can be pressed it will pour apart. It will pulpify. Turn into pap. A mush and cool off fast - very fast into a formless mass. A diverged thing. Thin and hard. In need for heat. In need for a form.
And heated it shall be!
And formed it will be!
Heat is everywhere. Through friction of time and money, of justice and law, of time and time and time. Time collides with money, time collides with time, ‘cause time is molded. Time is formed. Time is made. Time is used. As is justice. Made. Again. Again. Again.
And men?
Just the same.
Molded, formed. Used. Made.
Alas! How absurd.
He thinks he IS made! He thinks he was formed from the beginning! He thinks a creator used a templet, ONE form! and MADE men!

Thus are his thoughts. His pre-shaped thought. There is only one form for him that he strives for. The ultimate form he wants to be pressed in. He needs to be pressed in. He dies to be pressed in. He kills to be pressed in.

Success.
Excess.

The Man of Plastic forms his world.

Every single one who misses the form, cools down. Becomes vague. Pours into niches and gutters. Is heated again and looses his form. The Man of Plastic heats himself and reaches everywhere. HE is everywhere. Casting others in plastic. Amply spilling plastic until it sticks to everyone.

1 Kommentar:

Unknown hat gesagt…

gisteren was pas erg, de tijd van het grauwe grijs, voor sommigen een moment met een gouden randje, abraham en zo. voor mij slechts een verdere stap op de reis van het leven naar de dood. dus vergeet de tijd van het vlees niet, de leef-tijd dat je je vlees en je botten steeds meer gaat voelen, dat elke stap pijn gaat doen, dat je in je lichaam, uiteindelijk ijzeren en hard plastikken hulpstukken moet gaan toelaten. Niet zo poeties als je blog hier, maar wel des te echter, des te vleziger, met als enige zekerheid dat ik me straks bij het stof van mijn boeken mag voegen, want vlees zijn wij en tot stof keren wij terug.