One can only imagine what Freud would do with this. Prince al-Walid bin Talal has announced the construction of a mile-high tower in the Saudi Arabian desert.
At 5,250ft, the £5billion project, will dwarf all competitors and establish the greatest phallic symbol in the universe.
Of course, Freud viewed the phallic stage is the third of his psychosexual stages, which also includes the Oedipus complex. To complete this Freudian analysis, Prince al-Walid bin Talal is expected to bury his father in the foundation.
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Thanks for the thoughtful quotes, Mespo!
It is a good thing, no–make that a bad thing, that our minds seem incapable of holding terrible truths in the mental foreground for extended periods. We might be in the middle of a Holocaust, and yet worry for brief periods over where we misplaced our time-piece. This mechanism is protective no doubt…it frees us up to handle the micro-issues of daily life.
But it ill-serves us by continually “taking off the screen” the macro-issues that need attention also.
So our whole civilization, afflicted with this mechanism, is heading toward a new world and hopefully, if the changes be not too extreme, we will muddle through.
Deeply:
“Do not despair of life. Think of the fox, prowling in a winter night to satisfy his hunger. His race survives I do not believe any of them ever committed suicide…. Life begins on the other side of despair.”
–Henry David Thoreau
“Never despair but if you do, work on in despair.” –Edmund Burke
Enjoy your vacation.
Mespo,
I have been a sunny optimist at times in the past, but honestly, the epilogue you speak of may not only be for Bush’s Iraq but for all of our current civilization.
As I look out over the ocean, and contemplate the gigatonnes of water vertically stacked in endless square-mile columns miles high; and then holding that enormous volume as well as I can in my mind (akin to gazing at the stars at night and getting glimpses of the awesome scale involved); and then bringing to mind that this enormous volume of frigid water has risen in temperature over the last 30 years—- and then contemplating just how colossal, how staggeringly colossal the amount of energy absorbed that was necessary to effect that rise….then I fear for our civilization and our famed adaptability. Here is the most important reason for my “deeply worried” name: not the erosion of civil liberties, not the destruction of our civil society under the pressures of authoritarianism and corporatism, not the de-education and re-barbarization of the populace, not the return of militant nationalism, or corporate feudalism, not the nightmare Managed Society coming toward us… it is that there is an inconceivable amount of energy being trapped and the effects of this are beyond our calculative power to forecast.
On vacation, I look out over the quiet ocean with these fears and then walk back and try to put it out of my mind and attend to my family and its affairs. But the waves on the shore no longer speak to me of eternity, but of change coming. Quickly.
“…round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare,
The lone and level sands stretch far away.”
Sounds like a fitting epilogue for Bush’s Iraq. Shelley was nothing if not prescient.
apologies for the shattered meter as well as the shattered towers. I was composing on the fly and was going to adjust syllable counts when I hit the “submit” button meaning to hit the scroll button!!
Things were easier with quill and ink…Wait a minute, no they weren’t!
Ozymandias II
I met a traveller from a desert land,
Who said–“Three vast hills of glass and stone
Stand in the desert…and near them, on the sands,
Half sunk, a battered oilrig tilts, whose steel,
and girder’d length the wealth of a vanished age
bespoke; an arrogant pride which challenged the clouds
in towers empyrean from whose summits fair
the Kings of yore gathered at their pleasure
Surveying a world of their brief dominion
And drank their ices in the warming air.
Now silenced reigned, the travellor said,
and in the glimmering waves of vernal heat,
no commerce remained there but only stones and glass,
and feckless steel, and the call of buzzards lofting high.
10 My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings,
Look on my Works, ye Mighty, and despair!
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal Wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.”
Ce n’est pas grand chose, mon copain!
DW:
That is brilliant . . .
In Al-Khalal did Prince Talal a stately spire decree,
Where Oil, the sacred fuel ran in caverns measureless to man,
Down to a sunless sea…