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Ee LL ee ee Arts Council Fallacy of logic The person who seeks pure logic claims basically that his success is to become celestial. Wiiat is logic without dogma? Will not one's search for pure logic bring him finally to a different destination than another? Really the most logical conclusion to begin with is that the search for logic is in itself a form of self preservation and then is terribly narrow and non- humanistic in its purest sense. A hermit might well reach a point of catagorized thinking and argu- ment that can grant some peace to his mind but in the end, it would only take one question from a chanced upon wanderer to break the form of his geometrical think- ing. After all, if a circle is really a circle, how then does a tangent exist? In reality the ultimate end of a person's logic is that he becomes the most peleet: 'him" that he can be. What a logic seeker condemns in the religious and aesthetic, that be- ing the search for deity or the spiritual, is really a self- condemnation on his part of his search for pureness in logic is as much a religious quest as the most devout Christian or suicidal ter- rorist. Logic has become to him, a god, to which he bows down offer- ing his time, money, energy, and highest aspirations as tokens of worship to this formless deity that his faith seeks. | say faith for faith is really a trust in something that is unseen, yet believed. In fact, biblically, it is faith that gives evidence of the existence of the unseen. The logician uses many tools for navigation. His compass is analysis, his sextant is education, his rudder is reason and his keel is faith. As he tries to steer himself through the seas of his experience, his direction can never be really difined, as the rudder of his reason is tested from side to side or even in full circle. His sextant may not always read correctly, for, what education is there that is unchang- ing or cannot be expanded upon? If his compass is analysis how will he ever know that it points to true north since he holds it close to the lodestone of subjectivity. The truth is the only thing that . keeps him from tipping over is his faith, trust and hope he has in what he so desperately wants to be true and must believe for he has no other course to navigate. | wonder how many of these are washed onto the rocks of nihilism by the rising and falling tides of experience? Or how many purposely beach themselves on the 'sands of deci- sion and say "come what may, | Looking through the eyes It has been said that love is blind. | tend to feel love actually has less of a blinding effect than we may think. Actually, whoever coined that phrase probably did it out of sarcasm as he observed so- meone take note of the beauty of one he found to be rather homely. In my mind he missed the whole truth of the matter. Love doesn't blind, it enhances vision. When looking through the eyes of love, a face is not just a face, it is a thing of beauty. Love takes its time when it uses its eyes. It does not brush over someone and say, "they are pretty average'. It stops and soaks in every detail. Eyes are no longer just eyes. They become crystal, sparkling above a hazel, or blue, or smoky grey mirror of so- meone's soul. Love sees the gentle turn of the eyebrow as it softly brushes her forehead. Ever tiny line holds a unique beauty in the eyes of love. Even the tiny little freckles under the eyes cause it to smile. You see, when you really love someone you grow to love THEM not their outwardness. A face becomes more beautiful as we get to know the person behind it. Really, the outward person becomes a beautiful symbol to us of the person whom we really have grown to love, the one inside. Thus, real love does not change when the outward does. That is why an eighty year old man can look into the wrinkly face of an eighty year old woman and tell her she is beautiful. If true love is ex- of love cercised over time beauty grows. That is why the mother of a deformed child can hug it with all her heart because she knows the real person is not on the outside. But don't you see? It is not that love has made her blind to the deformities on the outside, it has opened her eyes to the real beauty that is only to be found as it is saught for through the eyes of love. Jamie Weber April 12, 1986 Sic transit gloria mundi... The Visit To some he's but What was it A tattered bird- Roused me A cock out-cast From my bed? No longer of the flock. A thought - Too bony too | thought - To make to stew- Was long, long dead. And yet! And yet! It lead me , There was a time Slowly, When in the yard Down the stair; His prime feathers Held me by Raised a cackle. He had his points- All nine of them- Straight of blade And wattle-proud He strode atop the midden, Crowing proudly to his brood. My short white hair. Eyes agape and Straight ahead, Each oaken step | stepped in dread. | felt it fumble Up my back - Knot itself at Nape and neck. It is his gait Then, That | remember best; Slow and cold Stately, slow, That twisted fear His breast out-thrust, Uncurled itself His russet cape aglow From ear to ear. In the sun (who was, ~ By Jove! his slave And rose at his behest.) The while, A breath of wind - A bated breath- Tickled his princely sickles, As he flapped his wings, Gently, of course, And just enough, To fluff his cape, Remind this lot, He was no chicken for the pot, But a Prince of a bird Endowed by birth With a set of spurs To scratch the earth, Hunt down the worm - A noble sport, Which brought him much renown Among the midden classes. Poor Prince ' Without The Spirit Words may weave and seem profound but they will make a sickly sound Without the Spirit A voice may speak and seem so wise but truth will twist to useless lies Without the Spirit A mind can churn in ceaseless pain and it will not be free again Without the Spirit Some say they're friends but words are weak What once smelled sweet begins to reak Without the Spirit Still, I'm a fool to write these lines and think that it can reach men's minds Without the Spirit | sit inside this flesh-bound shell and know that it would burn in hell Without the Spirit But hell can be found day to day for chosen ones who choose to stray Without the Spirit I've found that road more times than not and fallen into Satan's plot Without the Spirit Without the Spirit isn't true for one who's saved like me or you He sealed us when we gave our souls but we can live out worthless roles Without the Spirit James Weber Suspended by chris wind she sits in the third row at the second desk wearing one of those new skirts with words on it-- her words are in black and blue: all dressed up and nowhere to go. the laws of her country won't allow her ever to go back and the laws of this country won't allow her to go forward until she looks like, speaks like, acts like, thinks and feels like us. the first one is easy, she has done it already. the second two are more difficult though she is learning in my class, and she is trying hard. but the last two are almost impossible-- and she cries with each cut across the grain: she is made in Taiwan. chris wind believe!" It is these poor souls that - | His tatty saddle plumes, find they are on an island, with no His sagging comb, ONO NSN AN G16 el On Ole NEN ONO Sl Sl ONG Given 9 inhabitants or vegetation but only And floppy points a many pools in which the castaway A Il 7 Y F = must forever see his reflection and aie: Jemunger. © a ma ison SS. ) wonder why no one else wants to ; eo ee share his truth. If he looked out to ie eS decor J fashion ai fine gifts 2 sea he would notice it littered with : PS = litte pool-covered islands like his Michele Hackstetter 5 ee © own, -- © ; Jamie Weber 5 fom wover) = : a5 + linend 2 : eS @ lo tere pillows ® f ® + corba ans 8 THE CROW'S NEST : : © Exclusive fashion Ap 5 ae = jandmade \paskers, @ M.J.Himmeek: Figurines 3 jewel \ery Q Antiques and Collectables a ass | ) 2 = ® < ] 7 2 ig ee ® = Hand W leu and Super Taj Rugs z oe pe anger : Stained Glass - Costume Jewellery 3 CG Me best A Gold Jewellery Sold by Weight © ® : A = ® Large Selection of 1928 Jewellery % © CROIEAR-- 3 e = z Mon=Dar? ie) 6pm 2 236 KING ST. OPEN WE BUY, SELL a = Box 276 7 DAYS A WEEK OR TRADE = ae MEIEAND Sane verges pe ee le y @ 8 Simcoe St. Penetang, Ont. LOK 1P0 705-549-3770 6 S216 1ON® le NO 1 VE N@N SN® NO NO 1@ KO NEN Ne Ne Ne Ne Page 22, Wednesday, November 4, 1987 wee teen ares