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May 27, 2003
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A thoughtful and provocative quote
from educator John Holt (1923-1985) from How Children Learn:
We teachers - perhaps all human beings - are in
the grip of an astonishing delusion. We think that we can take a picture,
a structure, a working knowledge of something, constructed in our minds out
of long experience and familiarity, and by turning that model into a string
of words, transplant it whole into the mind of someone else.
Perhaps once in a thousand times, when the explanation is extraordinarily
good, and the listener extraordinarily experienced and skillful at turning
word-strings into non-verbal reality, and when the explainer and listener
share in common many of the experiences being talked about, the process may
work, and some real meaning may be communicated.
Most of the time, explaining does not increase understanding, and may even
lessen it.
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10:07:21 PM
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Sitting here listening to some old
Crosby Stills Nash & Young songs, and it occurred to me how powerful
many of the lyrics of that era were. I must be getting old, or listening
to the wrong stuff. If anyone can point me to some recent music lyrics that
are as eloquent, spare and moving as these two from Stephen Stills, I'd be
grateful; I'd like to have my belief in the importance and power of contemporary
music renewed:
4+20
4+20 years ago
I come into this life
The son of a woman
And a man who lived in strife.
He was tired of being poor,
And he wasn't into selling door to door,
And he worked like the devil to be more.
A different kind of poverty now
upsets my soul.
Night after sleepless night
I walk the floor and I want to know
Why am I so alone?
Where is my woman can I bring her home?
Have I driven her away?
Is she gone?
Morning comes the sunrise
And I'm driven to my bed.
I see that it is empty
And there's devils in my head.
I embrace the many colored beast.
I grow weary of the torment,
Can there be no peace?
And I find myself just wishing
That my life would simply cease.
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Helplessly
hoping
Helplessly hoping her harlequin hovers nearby
Awaiting a word.
Gasping at glimpses of gentle true spirit
He runs, wishing he could fly,
Only to trip at the sound of good-bye.
Wordlessly watching he waits by the window
And wonders
At the empty place inside.
Heartlessly helping himself to her bad dreams,
He worries Did he hear a good-bye?
Or even hello?
They are one person, they are two alone,
They are three together, they are for each other.
Stand by the stairway
You'll see something certain to tell you
Confusion has its cost.
Love isn't lying, it's loose in a lady who lingers,
Saying she is lost,
And choking on hello.
They are one person, they are two alone
They are three together, they are for each other.
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6:29:07 AM
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© Copyright 2004
Dave Pollard.
Last update:
19/02/2004; 2:46:22 PM. |
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