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Disclaimer: The Muppet Show characters displayed on this page are intended for parody and satirical purpose only. NCN is not endorsed in any way by the Muppets Holding Company, LLC and/or any of its affiliates. All copyrights and trademarks remain the property of their owners. Material and opinions posted on this page are those of the individual poster and do not necessarily represent the opinion of NCN or its management. ]]>  To speak is to name names, but to speak is not important. A thing happens once that has never happened before. Seeing it, a man looks upon reality. He cannot tell others what he has seen. Others wish to know, however, so they question him saying, "what is it like, this thing you have seen?" So he tries to tell them. Perhaps he has seen the very first fire in the world. He tells them, "It is red, like a poppy, but through it dance other colors. It has no form, like water, flowing everywhere. It is warm like the sun of summer, only warmer. It exists for a time upon a piece of wood, and then the wood is gone, as though it were eaten, leaving behind that which is black and can be sifted like sand. When the wood is gone, it too is gone." Therefore the hearers must think reality is like a poppy, like water, like the sun, like that which eats and excretes. They think it is like to anything that they are told it is like by the man who has known it. They can only know of it. But fire comes again into the world, many times. More men look upon fire. After a time, fire is as common as grass and clouds and the air they breathe. They see that, while it is like a poppy, it is not a poppy, while it is like water, it is not water, while it is like the sun, it is not the sun. and while it is like that which eats and passes wastes, it is not that which eats and passes wastes, but something different from each of these apart or all of these together. So they look upon this new thing and they make a new word to call it. They call it "fire". If they come upon one who still has not seen it and they speak to him of fire, he does not know what they mean. So they, in turn, fall back upon telling him what fire is like. As they do so, they know from their own experience that what they are telling him is not the truth, but only a part of it. They know that this man will never know reality from their words, though all the words in the world are theirs to use. He must look upon the fire, smell of it, warm his hands by it, stare into its heart, or remain forever ignorant. Therefore, "fire" does not matter, "earth" and "air" and "water" do not matter. "I" do not matter. No word matters. But man forgets reality and remembers words. The more words he remembers, the cleverer do his fellows esteem him. He looks upon the great transformation of the world, but he does not see them as they were seen when man looked upon reality for the first time. Their names come to his lips and he smiles as he tastes them, thinking he knows them in the naming. The thing that has never happened before is still happening. It is still a miracle. The great burning blossom squats, flowing, upon the limb of the world, excreting the ash of the world, and being none of these things I have named and at the same time all of them, and this is reality—the Nameless. To define is to lose. The essence of all things is the Nameless. You sit therefore, in the midst of a dream. Form pass, but the essence remains, dreaming new dreams. Man names these dreams and thinks to have captured the essence, not knowing that he invokes the unreal. These stones, these walls, these bodies you see seated about you are poppies and water and the sun. They are the dreamers of the Nameless. They are fire if you like. Occasionally, there may come a dreamer who is aware that he is dreaming. He may control something of the dream-stuff, bending it to his will. He may be mighty for good or for ill, as we look upon him---though these terms, too, are meaningless." —Roger Zelazny, Lord of Light ]]>  But was there any need to tell you even as much as that, as if I didn't make it perfectly clear who I am from the look on my face, as they say? Anyone who argued that I was Minerva or Wisdom could easily be convinced of his mistake simply by the sight of me, even if I never spoke a word, though speech is the least deceptive mirror of the mind. I've no use for cosmetics, my face doesn't pretend to be anything different from my innermost feelings. I am myself wherever I am, and no one can pretend I'm not—especially those who lay special claim to be called the personification of Wisdom, even though they strut about like 'apes in purple' and 'asses in lion-skins'. However hard they try to keep up the illusion, their ears stick up and betray the Midas in them...(...) Yet in general I think I show a good deal more discretion than the general run of gentry and scholars, whose distorted sense of modesty leads them to make a practice of bribing some sycophantic speaker or babbling poet hired for a fee so that they can listen to him praising their merits, purely fictitious though these are. The bashful listener spreads his tailfeathers like a peacock and carries his head high, while the brazen flatterer rates this worthless individual with the gods and sets him up as the perfect model of all the virtues—though the man himself knows he is nowhere near that; 'infinity doubled' would not be too far away. Thus the wretched crow is decked out in borrowed plumage, the 'Ethiopian washed white', an 'elephant created out of a gnat'.  The Ship of Fools, Hieronymus [Van Aeken] Bosch (c. 1450-1516) If you also want to know my birthplace, forasmuch as nowadays that is looked upon as a main point of nobility, I wasn't born on wandering DeIos, nor out of the waves of the sea, nor 'in hollow caves', but on the very Islands of the Blest... Two charming nymphs fed me at their breasts, Drunkenness, daughter of Bacchus, and Ignorance, daughter of Pan. You see them both here along with the rest of my attendants followers, but if you want to know all their names, you'll have to hear them from me in Greek. This one you see with her eyebrows raised is, of course, Philautia, Self-love. The one clapping her hands with laughter in her eyes is Kolakia, Flattery. The sleepy one who looks only half-awake is Lethe, Forgetfulness, and this one leaning on her elbow with her hands folded is Misaponia, Idleness... And, as to the two gods that you see with them, the one is Komos, Intemperance, the other Ecgretos hypnos, Dead Sleep. This, then, is the household which serves me loyally in bringing the whole world under my sway, so that even great rulers have to bow to my rule. ————————————————————————————————————————————————————————— Source: - Original Text (Latin) - Translation by John Wilson (1688) - Translation by Betty Radice (1971), which comes with some excellent footnotes More on Erasmus: The History Guide]]>  Monday-Saturday, Youth Speaks offers teenagers free creative writing workshops. An "opportunity to share your writings, hear from others, meet and work with the dopest mentors and write write write" Get involved. "Whether you want to help put on an event, work with youth in a workshop, or help out around the office," Youth Speaks is always looking for volunteers. A limited number of internship for high school and college students are also available. For information, please contact: Tyger Walsh at 415.255.9035 ext 12, or by email. ]]>  Elphaba: It's time to try Defying Gravity (...) I'd sooner buy Defying Gravity (...) Tell them how I am Defying Gravity
CITIZENS OF OZ: ELPHABA: CITIZENS OF OZ: ELPHABA: CITIZENS OF OZ: "Defying Gravity", lyrics from the Broadway Musical Wicked, based on the book by Gregory Maguire. Wicked is [among other things] about the nature of Good and Evil, how you tell them apart, and what makes you one or the other. In Wicked, Gregory Maguire showcases a variety of Belief systems and their tenets on Right and Wrong. Organized Religion, Education, a Cause, the lower class, the upper class, the tribal class, each of these groups indoctrinates its members with the Truth about Good and Evil, and each appears in some guise or other in Maguire's Oz. All this, as our previous two-dimensional opinions about the Wicked Witch of the West, are turned inside out by reexamination in light of additional information. "Give me a child until he's six and he's mine for life" some thought dictator once said. Wicked makes you think about what else you absorbed at the age when you learned without questioning that Elphaba was a Wicked Witch and therefore deserved to die...  Sympathy For The Devil Yo!..... Yo!...... Yo! Woo Good!.... Please allow me to introduce myself And I was 'round when Jesus Christ Pleased to meet you I stuck around at St. Petersburg (whoo whoo, whoo whoo) I shouted out, (whoo whoo) Let me please introduce myself (whoo whoo) Pleased to meet you (whoo whoo) Pleased to meet you (whoo whoo) Just as every cop is a criminal (whoo whoo) So if you meet me (whoo whoo) Pleased to meet you (whoo whoo) Woo, who (whoo whoo) Woo Who (whoo whoo) Oh, who who, oh, who who, (whoo whoo) oh, who who Woo, who, who (whoo whoo)  Belleville Rendez-vous Lyrics by Sylvain Chomet Music: Benoît Charest and M (aka Mathieu Chédid) J'veux pas finir mes jours à Tombouctou La peau tirée par des machines à clous Moi je veux être fripée Triplement fripée Fripée comme une Triplette de belleville J'veux pas finir ma vie à Acapulco Danser toute raide avec des gigolos Moi je veux être tordue Triplement tordue Balancée comme une Triplette de Belleville (Allez les filles!) Refrain: Swinging Belleville rendez-vous Marathon dancing doop dee doop Vaudou Cancan balais taboo Au Belleville swinging rendez-vous J'veux pas finir ma vie à Singapour Jouer au dico manger des petits fours Moi j'veux être zidiote Triplement zidiote Gondolée comme une Triplette de Belleville J'veux pas finir ma vie à Honolulu Chanter comme un zoiseau ça n'se fait plus Je veux ma voix brisée Triplement brisée Swinguer comme une Triplette de Belleville Refrain J'veux pas finir ma vie à Constantinople C'est bien trop dur de faire des rimes en “nople“ Je veux être givrée (Hop!) Triplement givrée (Hop Hop!) La quadrature des Triplettes de Belleville J'pourrais finir ma vie à Katmandou C'est bien plus doux de faire des rimes en “dou“ Mais je veux être givrée Complètement givrée Et swinguer comme les Tripletes de Belleville (Allez les filles!) Refrain + Solo + Refrain ]]> 
The interest of the film, of course, is not so much the horror (a mix of the "Blob" and "Invasion of the Bodies Snatcher") but the satire. The overall film, therefore, works best with humor— See it expecting a silly movie that's a bit of fun and you may end up enjoying it (Think of it as a good "bad movie": It has a silly plot and effects, but it's so fun that you just don't really care.)]]> |
