Double visions and illusions and the strangest interference

I could make long lists of things that make it difficult to concentrate. In fact, often it's due to concentration itself. I find it quite impossible to detach myself from thinking; which is convenient, for I am almost always alert and susceptible; yet at the same time, intereference in the form of thoughts poses my greatest distraction. And so, today, I've been to and fro - literally wandering in thoughts and focus. From Aristophanes to Flannery O'Connor to Homer. The antique version and the yellow one with the "d'oh". Actually, I did go from reading "The Odyssey" to watching "The Simpsons". NOT a brilliant move. Admittedly, I can bring absence of mind upon myself as well. But it was the episode where he's breeding a lobster and I love it and I just had to be excused for a short break, whilst the other guy with the cape and swords was battling cyclops or something, I don't really remember. Could have been the yellow one instead, or maybe it was Maggie? See my point? Anyways; speaking of Flannery O'Connor; I'm a fan! I love tales from the South (that's the US again); Sue Monk Kidd and the classics alike, it's something about the atmosphere that grips me; and hers are some of the best ever written. Today, it was one of her most famous, "The life you save may be your own", a very strange but haunting piece that might appear quite simple an unoriginal - at first reading - but then you realise it so much more than that, and much more complex; it's disgusting and equally beautiful and very tragic. Also, it has a bunch of main characters that just amazes you, captivates you, despite all their simplicity. Three pages in, and you sense there's something esssentially wrong going on. I can read through whole novels without any such notion springing to mind, here it was present at once. Gotta love stories like that, and did I mention - I love novellas? This one's exceptionally good; I mean, there's a reason why it's part of our course; and it has a spooky undertone - indeed, it has loads of subtexts and possible between-the-lines interpretations. Probably could be related to a bigger picture too. But the way I see it, her novella is - in reality - meant to be as simplistic as it looks. In the sense that it deals with basic humanity. And that is in no way solely favourable. Yes, I've been watching "Doctor Who" tonight, on top of all the rest, and hence I get these peculiar thoughts about humans. No stupid apes on this occasion; but apart from that, O'Connor's words are perfectly in line with the ones proclaimed by McGann's Doctor. True, the TV-movie, and I know it's utter crap but it's kind of hilarious too. Moreover, and in my defence, I hadn't been able to see all of it before, so I reckoned it was about time. Adding to my above-mentioned matters of distraction, I got so inspired by said O'Connor (and McGann, will try to put that off till later) that I had to use some of her plotlines for some self-made poetry. Her protagonist; the subtle, mysterious, diffuse and in the end quite creepy Mr. Shiftlet; is basically made for a poem. Can't beat that. And consequently, here's something in honour of him. Tried to reflect the tone of the tale, and the changing of personalities; these underlying truths; and the changing between attitudes. Beware that this is a man who is not clear about who he's acting as, what or who he's currently being, with whose voice he speaks; so there's a doubleness and confusion to the poem - and the story - which was immensely hard to capture. In order to get the big picture, at least as far as O'Connor is concerned, read the whole story. To get a slight hint of what a corrupted man might be like, and be tempted to read the story, here's the making:

"Saving lives/For Flannery O'Connor" - get the (obvious) pun?
By Scaramouche, the Po(t)et and The Doctor's woman. I would come with him anyday. No matter if he looked like Tennant, Eccleston, Davison or McGann. My favourites. Sexy beasts, all of them. And he can change appearances as he pleases, can't he? Best cunning plot line ever! And, oh, I have noticed the similarities here - in case you wondered. I noticed them immediately and it scares me more than Eric Roberts' ugly make-up ever will. The Doctor leaves his footprints all over my life! He intrudes on my sources of inspiration! And - I don't mind.

Let me tell you honestly,
admit with all my candour
I ain't good at reading stuff into stuff
I hardly ever do, and when I seldom try,
end up with lines that do not rhyme

Let me explain my purpose,
elaborate on my arrival here;
I ain't too clever at coming forth as true
how you'd expect an energetic man to be
when taking on the arduous tolls of living

If you bring me water I shall drink, for
I am but a simple man of sole distinction
the only grand affliction I bequeath
was being born into a world of wry deceit

To sense beside the very meanings of your grasp
And work without the fears that fabricate your mask
Allow me to endure but never to induldge, I swore
There is no black, no white, but I can see what's grey

If you should bring me back to health
from every wrongdoing that made one qualm
the only way to thank was with the words
I ain't no subtle feature to be found

I seek to please in pleasant company
for whenever I do leave, it will be permanent
I never make no plans and don't return
The less I deal with rebounding,
the fewer treads must I pick up

I request nothing but the sailor's pay
to have a virtuous face for recollection
as we are running steadfastly about
I pay my debts, no more at all
can shipmen as myself afford

**
(last, this little epilogue from the road to nowhere)

and such round off the tale of inconsistent men
not to spoil, and not to give too freely, but maintain;
the one who entered, went away, and robbed these strangers
for all the loving or deliberation, none was ever sure
the silence soon decends and seems the very same
may he rest peacefully or sleep in pains forever
who cares what he will do, who's known to no-one
and who knows nothing of the ones who would condemn

as everything converges to the ground again
and beckons to be turned once more to dust
he'll walk within, forever on, and neither is he
feeble nor is he ever in all consequences strong