Alt Text
Show parent replies
i got this poem the other day because i was reading a blog post of his talking about his age. Wallace Stevens's 'A Postcard from a Volcano'.
robertpaulwolff.blogspot.com
SOMBER REFLECTIONS
Yesterday afternoon, the 35 or 36 people who live in my building gathered to celebrate the 95 th birthday of one of our residents, Mary McN...
Children picking up our bones
Will never know that these were once
As quick as foxes on the hill;
And that in autumn, when the grapes
Made sharp air sharper by their smell
These had a being, breathing frost;
he had such a compelling and admirable personality and his ideological critique lectures were some of the most clever and personable philosophizing i’ve had the pleasure of witnessing. i can’t stop crying.
dreary.dev
Politics
i feel like a certain genre of philosopher is no longer possible, and it's a largely generational thing. philosophers with breadth as opposed to specialization, wit, charisma, humility, and self-awareness - personally warm-hearted but espousing politics with bite.
this shined through in his writing too. i’m proud to be an owner of his work.
it seemed like he was in a lot of pain in the end :( i’m so fucking devastated
sorry idk im still tired and waking up to see this really fucked me up :(