local, but prized elsewhere
Tuesday, 20 April 2010 @ 00:28
I'm using the Google Analytics system to keep track of my hits and visitors, and I have to say, almost wish I hadn't. One hit today. One. And I think it was me. Ah well, I'm consoling myself with the fact that the blog is clearly a bit too ahead of its time, and that the huge torrent of followers will come later rather than sooner.

I think I'm going to put the beginning of an essay in here, purely to fill in some space. I'm tired and still need to watch Henry IV Part One before I can go to bed, so writing an interesting post it, regrettably, out of the question. The only thing that potentially is exciting is that having won the poetry competition, I now have to choose the next theme. Previous themes were: home; celebrity; escapism; joy; the Mona Lisa; artificial; and of course, burning. At the moment I am thinking either 'perspectives' or 'conquistadores.' I have no real reason for the latter one except I think it would be cool. Actually, I think 'local' might be good. It reminds me of that thing Auden wrote, in one of his clever little clerihews (is that an appropriate projection of the form?)

A poet's hope: to be,
like some valley cheese,
local, but prized elsewhere.
So yes, perhaps that. It beats the other topics at least, lots of room for the more serious types to pontificate and ruminate on too. I'm sad I won't be able to write a poem for 'local' (apparently I have decided to choose it, based on this paragraph - I'm as suprised as you!) but hopefully the theme after will be good too. Actually, just decided it's unwise to put anything from an essay which hasn't been submitted yet online, as it might cause complications with plagarism and stuff, so, as I'm on the wrong computer, no essay today. Sorry!

P.S. - If you read this, why not produce your own 'local' poem? I would gladly offer my thoughts on anything anyone wrote!

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"The circle of human knowledge, illuminated by the pale, cold light of reason, is so infinitesimally small, the dark regions of human ignorance which lie beyond that luminous ring so immeasurably vast, that imagination is feign to step up to the borderline and send the warm, richly colored beams of her fairy lantern streaming out into the darkness ; and so, peering into the gloom, she is apt to mistake the shadowy reflections of her own figure for real beings moving in the abyss.

Sir James George FrazerThe Golden Bough
The title of this blog comes from a poem by Coleridge, A Wish: Wriiten in Jesus Wood, Feb. 10th, 1792, Plus most blogs are moans anyway. Including this one. lol manuscripts
picture.

I'm a 23 year-old student in London Cambridge London, studying English Literature Law. It's hard to really think of anything truly personal I can put here that might give you some idea of who I am, so I will just tell you that my favourite Shakespeare play is Richard II, my favourite chocolate bar is Snickers, and I have a bit of a thing for instant coffee, especially if someone else makes it for me.


I'm interested in Renaissance Literature, Higher Education policy, and libraries.
I'm completely in love with a Scottish girl.