Friday, October 26, 2012



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This is a blog dedicated to (manifestations of) culture... whatever that may be. It seems a rather nebulous term and I have no intention of providing a useful definition.  

Sometimes, inexactitude is more useful than an overabundance of clarity. 

That said, expect a wide range of topics suitable for mature individuals of all ages. Plus lots of images and lots of words. 

Have fun!

Your feedback is always welcome.

  Grieving Daedalus
(Terracotta sketch by Glenn S. Michaels)

Daedalus, among other things, was the first human being to fly, according to Greek myth. He built wings for himself and his son, Icarus, using wax for glue.

The myth reports that Daedalus told his son not to fly too high, not to get to close to the sun.

Icarus wasn't really reckless. He was flying! Flying like a bird or a god. Except that his wings were made of feathers and wax and wood.

Imagine Daedalus watching Icarus having the time of his life. Imagine him watching his son do just what he told him not to do.

Imagine watching the wings you had built - painstakingly - for your dearest, most precious accomplishment - disintegrate. Imagine watching your son -  your son! - plunge into the ocean and disappear.

How terribly, terribly wretched Daedalus must have felt. His own brilliance the instrument of his son's demise.

But that story is only an ancient myth, after all. Such things don't really happen to real people like us, do they? Except, perhaps, on TV or in the movies, right?

Come to think of it, pretty much the last cogent thing my father said to me before dying, was "Good luck." What do you think that Daedelus said to his son before Icarus flew off?


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