They pulled off the sheet.
“So this is Man, I present to thee”
said God, from a cloud-side balcony.
Said the artist,
“Oh, it's beautiful!
Through mine eyes, it looks to me
just so–-- ”
Said the scientist, “How does it
work?”
And said the theologian, “Why,
God, have you let us know?”
“I brought this to you so that
I might be, through your great debate.
Now begin.”
“An unrhymed couplet!” said
the zealous artist,
“So wild and frayed this
introduction is!”
Said the self-sure theologian, “I
understand, Lord,
You mean to be mysterious – so we
needn't ask.”
And replied the uncomfortable
researcher, “Then we don't
really know – God, what were your
thoughts? Your stages-of-task?”
“Oh, fuck,” said God, “I'm not
here to talk,
I just am – so please! Spar as you
will.”
“Is that freeee
will?” cheated the
theologian…
“Jesus-fucking-Christ!”
subverted the artist,
“Please stick to the theme!”
Ad hominem'd the
theologian,
“Don't
profane the Lord's name!
You
hedonic slut!” And
practical'd the scientist, “Stop
casting blame –
Help
me staple this shut!” …
Then woe'd the artist, “Nooo! What
Have you done?”
… Rationale'd the scientist, “I
just wanted to see inside.”
Moralized
the theologian, “You
heathen, you sinner.” …
Self-expressed
the artist, “This I once saw as
beautiful; now all is a bloody
hide.”
Inquired
the scientist, “God –
may we have another Man?
If
I use less invasive methods this time?”
Aphor'd the
Theologian,
“Turn
your swords into plowshares.”
And
polished the artist, “
Might we end with a rhyme?”
“stone·wall verb \ˈstōn-ˌwȯl\ – to refuse or fail to answer questions, to do what has been requested, etc., especially in order to delay or prevent something ( chiefly US )”
ReplyDelete<< http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/stonewall >> 7 April 2014
*Spurred by “The Clockwork Condition,” by Anthony Burgess, re-published in the NEW YORKER June 4/11, 2012.
ReplyDeleteWhile reading this excellent 1973 reflection on A Clockwork Orange, a behaviorist-critiquing work of social fiction, by its shaky-faithed Catholic-raised author, I was struck by the coherent dialog being synthesized among the artist's {i.e., the fiction-writer}, the scientist's (i.e., Skinner and the behaviorist camp}, and the theologian's {i.e., the battling voices of free-will Catholics and predestination Calvinists} points-of-view regarding (A) What to think about Mankind {that age-old problem}, and (B) What to do about / within mankind {making “progress” on that problem, and warranting those actions as right and good}.
For the artist, the mindset seemed to be (A) look at the world, look at yourself, describe what you see subjectively, as accurately and entertainingly as possible, because (B) perfecting one's craft—in the artist's case, entertaining and moving the hearts and minds of one's audience—is success, meager but beautiful in that it makes waves of good energy in a world that's going to do what it's going to do anyway.
For the behaviorist, the mindset seemed to be (A) experiment on the world, and learn the practical details of its cause-effect chains, so your theories and practices have predictive validity, because (B) if you learn how the world works, and you can predictably control those mechanisms, you can make the world run better {or worse … but of course behaviorists prefer to think of themselves as do-gooders}.
And for the theologians, the mindset seemed to be (A) take evident and accepted truths about mankind and his world, assert your view of your religious scriptures, and puzzle out the most convincing way to explain the truth of the world in terms of your views, because (B) understanding right and wrong actions, good and bad behaviors, begins with understanding one's purpose and nature {but not as a child of nature … theologians prefer to see mankind as a child of God, i.e., the popular anthropogenic caricature of nature, the anthropocentric word-made-flesh}.*
So in this poem, the Word-that-is-God begins by speaking directly to these three archetypes, giving them a puzzle – themselves – to solve. But each quickly trails of toward their respective excesses – the artist, to his forms; the scientist, to his subject-objectifying 'prod first, write an ethical code later' methodology; the theologian to his fanboy combination of fawning uncritically after God and lashing out reflexively {and ironically} at any challenge to that idol {of compassion and acceptance}. And so, as their voices turn, from fascination and gratitude at this God-given opportunity, to obsession and self-indulgence, God falls silent {…} and so remains – for after all, as I've come to cluck like an anthem, “God is wise, not sentient.”