Hate the Sin. Love the Sinners. Wait for Superman

Dear Colleagues across Curriculum
Templates & Maps (not to be collapsed,
conflated & confused with the Territory):
 
          Mythologic
 
I love you sinners, especially the
genial & conscientious Citizens
for SACS Compliance—
 
           SACS the SIN
         SACS the  Sphinx
 
Hulking over  Thebes, say, & we
know not what we do and can't be
blamed for our ignorance, enthralled:
waiting for superman to answer
pedagogical riddles of the oppressed. .
 
What makes a horrid mess
and yet cleans up good?
 
Moves in clods of unknowing
and arrives where it started
& knows it for goodness sakes?
 
What, if it don't kill me, still's  a
 roaring pain in the ass that
makes me stronger?
 
Depends on dumb & dumber
to get smart & smarter?
 
Margins for Error: Rooms for Play.
 
The Economy of Composing &
the Economy of Consuming and
How do they Just Get Along? 
 
 Etcetera
 
Different tokens but the same deep
Chomsky-ian  structure.  Solve one,
solve all;  and for you, at least, if not
Thebes:  Sphinx flies away and you
marry the Mothers of Invention.
 
I give a shout-out to Gary H. Boss
of Composition from time to time
because he has it in him to be the
superman we await..
 
COMPOSITION is the meta-discipline
of liberal arts composing across the
curriculum: the SAME deep grammar
protocols no matter the subject-object
matter (diversity we love to celebrate
simultaneously occluding the identity
of our common grounding.) 
 
Need we argue?
 
   Compose and  Be Composed
 
 whether you call yourself physicist or
theologian: turn up the P in your
Phdegreed & acknowledge the
nature of your nurture...
 
                  The 2 Economies:
                      /                  \
Composing.                Consuming.
 
Radically  incommensurate yet complementary
values.  Gary & his composing cohort know
this to be the appropriately divided heartbeat
& agon of his discipline: the fundamental
CONTRARIETY without which: No Progress.
 
All fours in the morning. Binary dualities &
double bindings at noon. Triadic ternary
reconciliations once that evening
sun go down.
 
Something like that.
 
LIKE, I said.
 
Not talking IS for crying out loud.
I leave “is” to Bill Clinton:
President of the World,
says Chris Matthews.
And the more-data
mongers.

xxxooo, Sam