canonading thomas... d e A q...u ..

'I am almosting it ... '



Duffy dream of Aristotle as the lover mental of Aquinas in in the high and mightyful diction of the fictional historian, a hysterial conundrum in the order of the names of the roses[hysterialis not a typo reader] the schizo clothe that rhymes that word with rose. As for our good old Master Thomas __ indeed! Bully bellied Thomas suffered from avarice but is the angelic doctor of theology and his sweet tongue mastered the Aristotle to defeat the 'heretical' testimonies implicit in the then new thought of Islam .... suffice it to say the great Bach like cathedral of theological genius he erected was a pinhead to be forsworn by the Scotus. Ah, those masters of theology in Paris, and the quarrels, the Sentences of Peter Abelard! Ay! and no plodding was the intelligencer Aristotle his poetics his mimesis offering a range not found in the old academic repulic de Platon Palto Alto... oh Plakos tracking forever that shadow land of the Unreal Real Ideal! Vive la Aristotle's march into the Outside n' the actual . Poor old Thomas A... was considered a virtual heretic for a time, suffering in name and post-body an adhoc defense that only in time assumed his heavenly name of the aesthetic and the greatness of his awesome projections, Question, Answer, Proof, Reproof, Counter-proof and all the dances of the razor sharp logic and the accompanying grand edifice of his thought.



Contra Summa Theology
Contra Summa Gentiles




what masterpieces of Latin genius



think of it kiddies



written out by hand



a million words



a grand scholar famous among students few in our day his match or maker in them days, they was readers in the dark, candlelit scholars bent over cramped out of shape & youth by time's hard metricule Christianity a country spread over Europe
like a quilt, a Persian rug,
a thousand stencilled tapestry of
wonder
the rhizome scrolls of
Christendom
its feudal mysteries
a hectic joy!
O haeccities of Scotus
and Thomas
of being
and becomings of smooth wrinkled foreheads





Carrying his books from town to town the pilgrim on the route to Rome sees a vision saying Mass His comment



afterward
'All my work seems as straw '



"Ista flumina olim occulta et quodammodo confusa erant, tum in similitudinibus creaturarum, tum etiam in aenigmatibus scripturarum, ita ut vix aliqui sapientes Trinitatis mysterium fide tenerent. Venit Filius Dei et inclusa flumina quodammodo effudit, nomen Trinitatis publicando, Matth. ult. 19: Docete omnes gentes, baptizantes eos in nomine Patris et Filii et Spiritus Sancti. Unde Job 28, 2: Profunda fluviorum scrutatus est et abscondita produxit in lucem. Et in hoc tangitur materia primi libri."

You dig this Mister Scotus Schiztus!
She Mona dig dug and glued her blue teeth to this booke!
Composes after ward, three songs
to his Christ_ Jesu mon pélican ~
to whom he compares the pérégrine
the pelican Jesu mon pélican quelle douleur!
O Christ pélican blood of the suffering




Saviour

Easter god Visionary flight into the heavens As Appollinaire puts it 'Christ first aviator '

Ascending into Heaven

longlonlonglonglonglongtime

It has been a long time since I 've read my Thomas, but recalling the words of young Stephan Dedalus I recollect the fine predicates of the apprehension of beauty and the sweet retrieval of the Aristotle after 12oo years of banging Plato's drums, and the liberation by accident of Christianity from the measly shadows of Platonism's endless simulacrum as the walking talking thinker Aristote his peripatetic self a mouth to walk and speak botanists of the isles
teacher mentor to Alexander
the fine Greek nose
sniffing its way to India






and turn away no more in shame from the
traditio Christian
and
its pelicans
roses
pilgrims
and
poses







Christ aviator first flight into the Heavens
Ascension of the Immanent into the
Spinning jenny of the firmament





______________________


None[s] (pun intended) of which has much to do with K's grand divagations, but a wonder to behold moving around the swept place of its movements its tarnished image of thought,and its sideways gallivanating of what is and is not the
'fact'. Fiction, or furious fast life, we post metaphysicans dance a carrying card of agape and
the world umbilicus

thought is its own reward

Our Scotus and Doctors always grappling further inward into another shore. Of rhetoric and plain view polemic. All these windings are true fictions, epistemse of the better later self. These windings that are K F's snap dragon of thought. Bird and beast, butterfly and dragon , mythogram and sememe of desire muttering its entrances and exists.
Shall I read? Shall a writer read what is written? What is written? a prose kinema a scroll of deleterious probes. Always probes, scouts into the frontiers and border country side of ____
.

"I think I'll write something very simple and very short." [interview about the Fictions] Indeed the deterritorializing of all the figures of history is the way assemblogs work!

[gloss]