VUVUZELAS

vuvuzelas

 
 
Vuvuzelas have also been blamed for drowning
the sound and atmosphere of football games.
Commentators have described the sound as
"annoying" and "satanic" and compared it with
“a stampede” of noisy elephants, a deafening
swarm of locusts, a goat on the way to slaughter,
and a giant hive full of very angry bees. (wiki)
 
I suspect my daily service project: to provoke
academical converse across the curriculum,
spark intellective/affective fantods to flame
a progress, start a scene or two, bite off  matter
with a smile, squeeze a universe into small balls
of fire& roll them toward overwhelming questions… 
 
(deferential, glad to be of use, politic, cautious,
and meticulous; full of high sentence, but a bit
obtuse; At times, indeed, almost ridiculous)—
 
…is as effective as vuvuzelae—full of sound
and fury, baleful bold & idiotic but diminishing
nothing.
 
But I’m on a mission impossible from God.
To hold us all “in the light.” Otherwise
I’d have to be nuts to persist in my folly.
It’s A Vocation, a  calling.
 
  “Samuel! Samuel!
   Throw rice at the rhino!”
   says God.
 . And “never give up, don’t ever give up,”
   says  Donald Trump.
 
If a butterfly flapping wings in Brazil can
start a hurricane in Kansas, imagine what
an on-shore spill in Swannanoa might
accomplish. to bring about change.
 
Evolution.

IT’s laws are not my laws &
work in mysterious waves, by
leaps,  jumps: emergent phenomenon
& catalytic conversions.
 
Never know what spark might could ignite
Olympic flame,  start a noetic conflagration,
burning  down the house, so to speak. Holy
smokes & mirrors: a miracle,
 
It’s possible. 

Listen. The sound: wind in the will ‘o the
whisper.:
 
general education initiatives aim to
ensure that every undergraduate
student experiences a relevant
and  challenging general education
curriculum…embedding high
expectations and meaningful
assessment of student learning…
as essential for enhancing curricula
and pedagogy.
 
Even the dead will walk to work. My beagle Zeke,
a stoic,  would shift his snooze from shade to sun
when it got too chilly under the porch..
 
A DEATH-BLOW is a life-blow to some
says Emily Dickinson, homely Saint of Amherst,
Who, till they died, did not alive become;
Who, had they lived, had died, but when
They died, vitality begun.
 
 Viva Zealas!
              

  holy grail right under
   our very gnosis
   (local foodback)
    infinite renewable
   resource