RUDIMENTS 1142.

RUDIMENTS, pt. 1,142

(shirley beancake)

One of my problems was always

that I didn't know what people

were talking about. One time

some guy got started with all

that 'The road to Hell is

paved with good intentions'

stuff, all of which I'd heard

before. And grasped well

enough. But then he upped

it and said to me, 'Let me tell

you more; 'the approach to

Heaven is through the roads

to Hell; which you have to

take to get there.'  Now,

that was a little different,

because I'd known about the

aphorisms of William Blake,

though I'm not sure that guy

did. One of them was, 'The

road of excess leads to the

palace of Wisdom.' And

another one was, 'Those who

restrain their desires do so

because theirs are weak

enough to be restrained.'

He had plenty more of

them too, often in that same

vein. I simply thought of

them as saying pretty much

the same thing as he was

meaning. Blake was about

1800. This guy was 1970.

Big difference, but much of

an overlap too. Blake's

point most often was of the

idea of 'Don't hold back;

repressing something only

makes it all worse, but sating

your urges by doing them,

instead of limiting and

controlling them, will

bring you to happiness and

a great decrease of anguish

and hatred, of self.' Now in

many respects that's complete

foolishness. If you have an

urge, you just don't go grab

a gun and kill 14 people,

(Yes, though it's been done).

That' solving nothing and is

complete bunkum. I'm not

entirely sure, other than just

being a contrarian, what

William Blake was up to in

those aphorisms  - compiled,

together, and printed by him

as the 'Proverbs of Hell.'

Just that title might mean

that he kind of knew they

were a bit off.

-

I studied William Blake

quite a bit. He lived from

1757 to 1827, and was a

weird dude. There are great

books and studies about him,

in depth. He's a real, dense

research favorite, and probably

has been the subject of many

thousands of thesis, treatise,

monograph and in-depth

analysis work. The guy was

a unique nut-case, in his

execution of detailed and

obsessive work  -  poems,

art, drawings, copperplate

engravings and more. He was,

besides all his 'words,' way

into color, musculature (his

human figures are almost

sometimes excessively

bulky). His examiners range,

among the heavies, from

Northrup Frye to Kathleen

Raine. 'Fearful Symmetry,' by

Frye, is a landmark book on

the subject of Blake. There's

literally a hundred, right off

the bat, covering every  aspect:

His words, sources, meanings,

textual analysis, prophetic books,

poetical sketches, poetry, and

it just goes on and on. The man

was amazing.

-

I don't really know why, except

for dedication to his own work

(he was a loner, reclusive, and

very caught up in what he did,

and a difficult person besides),

he missed the American Revolution.

Although he wrote of it, entitled

a book or two with references to

it (as a 'New Jerusalem'), and was

an intellectual compatriot of Thom

Paine. Basically he just never

much left his home(s), which

over time ranged from London to

Felpham Manor and on his

deathbed (at age 70. Gulp!),

he died, singing. That's a weird

little touch they always add. They

mean to say that he was a blissful

guy, composed and self generated.

His wife was named Catherine, at

first a real know-nothing gal. He

taught her to read and write, but she

always retained her unschooled

ways. A true companion and a

regular Soho authentic. Another

cool note: One time when someone

was visiting, they asked why there

was no soap. She answered, 'Mr.

Blake's skin don't dirt.' Think

Eliza Doolittle.

-

Anyhow, excess was never my

forte, no matter what Blake said,

and it always left me conflicted

to try and understand what he was

trying to say or do with all the

'Freedom and Liberty' of the self

stuff. He hated repressions and

he hated withheld feelings. His

point was, 'If you're angry with

a friend over something, blurt

it out and says so. Withholding

such information, festering with

it inside, will come to no good.'

I guess nowadays it would be said

he was all in favor of 'keeping the

channels flowing.'

-

No matter. Everyone's life ebbs

and flows. You can fairly well do

what you like but at some point, 

later, I guess, more than sooner, 

you pay the piper, you meet the 

owner, the dues come due, the

famed chickens seek home to 

roost. No avoiding that; yet,

along the way you don't wish 

to lose control, betray decorum,

transgress certain protocols and

strictures. So, in some way, I

never really knew what either of

those guys were talking about  -

William Blake, or the 1970's guy.

-

How do you explain that? I once

knew, and still do, a Chinese girl,

in Chinatown, named Shirley. I

won't give out her name, since

she's still around and working hard

at a small-bit acting career. But

she was one of the excess type of

people. Purely Chinese, but so

totally Americanized and wild'd

up that you'd never know it. Excess

on the road to Heaven, even  if a

Chinese heaven. Her last name was

oddly enough (I don't really know

if 'Shirley' or the last name are

true), a long Polish name, with 

the 'ski' at the end and a number

of consonants. She, in her excess

of glory, would send the latest

TV show reference she got; always

bit parts, here and there, 'On Banner

Street, look for me in the kitchen

scene, I'm the lady with the mixing

bowl...' Stuff like that, any number

of them. (I never did see them). She

send me the newest Chinese sandwich

shop or restaurant as it came up, 'Go

to Andrews, great takeaway Ming

How Bean-Bread Pork Sandwiches.

(I never did get to any). Yet, it was

always sheer bliss to realize her

energy, verve, and...yes...excess.

(To which this road to Heaven

still leads us?)......