Rivers
- Thread starter sufi
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- cuomo hydronymy swamp thing
Clinamenic
Binary & Tweed
Oh well in these terms, I actually think there could be a good river metaphor, or rather a good river delta metaphor, for how one handles multiple independent datastreams, or how one processes their world and breaks it up into different compartmentalized areas or disciplines of their world, partitioning out information flows, through a sort of interoception delta, into their respective life domains.
sus
Moderator
Please don't let me stop you, I only tag people I feel comfortable nagging and annoying, I have too much respect for you Gov
Benny Bunter
Well-known member
In Xanadu did Kubla Khan
A stately pleasure-dome decree:
Where Alph, the sacred river, ran
Through caverns measureless to man
Down to a sunless sea.
So twice five miles of fertile ground
With walls and towers were girdled round;
And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills,
Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree;
And here were forests ancient as the hills,
Enfolding sunny spots of greenery.
But oh! that deep romantic chasm which slanted
Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover!
A savage place! as holy and enchanted
As e’er beneath a waning moon was haunted
By woman wailing for her demon-lover!
And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething,
As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing,
A mighty fountain momently was forced:
Amid whose swift half-intermitted burst
Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail,
Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher’s flail:
And mid these dancing rocks at once and ever
It flung up momently the sacred river.
Five miles meandering with a mazy motion
Through wood and dale the sacred river ran,
Then reached the caverns measureless to man,
And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean;
And ’mid this tumult Kubla heard from far
Ancestral voices prophesying war!
sus
Moderator
You ignoramus I've written tens of thousands of words already these themes. not only do I know about naiads I know about oceanides and potamoi. not only do I know about the accumulatino of sediment but I also know about the processes of erosion, attrition, and abrasion, and how differences in fluid speed acceleration and the surface area to mass ratio of the particulate alters how and whether these processes take place. ive catalogued the typical composition of silt, researched the most common organic and inorganic particulates (quartz, feldspar) and learned about the sorting process of granules of sands on a beach in the tides. ive read twains accounts of the mississippi and dickens' description of riverboats as wedding cakes. i know the ratio of cords of wood burned by a riverboat per day to the number of cords used to heat an average new england home in winter. i can describe the composition of coquina depositions and compare and contrast the almond shape of braid bars with the crescent shapes of point bars to the deardrop shape of deltaic mouth bars. i know the primary ways to prevent erosion and its primary accelerators. i can list the ten greatest discoveries of the mudlarks on the thames and how the white sands of hawaiian beaches are the skeletons of coral digested by parrotfish.
Benny Bunter
Well-known member
The river in this encapsulates so many of the different metaphors Luka's posted on the last couple of pages. Amazing poem.
Not very becoming of a budding God of War.
Benny Bunter
Well-known member
—Was it for this
That one, the fairest of all Rivers, lov'd
To blend his murmurs with my Nurse's song,
And from his alder shades and rocky falls,
And from his fords and shallows, sent a voice
That flow'd along my dreams? For this, didst Thou,
O Derwent! travelling over the green Plains
Near my 'sweet Birthplace', didst thou, beauteous Stream
Make ceaseless music through the night and day
Which with its steady cadence, tempering
Our human waywardness, compos'd my thoughts
To more than infant softness, giving me,
Among the fretful dwellings of mankind,
A knowledge, a dim earnest, of the calm
That Nature breathes among the hills and groves.
When, having left his Mountains, to the Towers
Of Cockermouth that beauteous River came,
Behind my Father's House he pass'd, close by,
Along the margin of our Terrace Walk.
He was a Playmate whom we dearly lov'd.
Oh! many a time have I, a five years' Child,
A naked Boy, in one delightful Rill,
A little Mill-race sever'd from his stream,
Made one long bathing of a summer's day,
Bask'd in the sun, and plunged, and bask'd again
Alternate all a summer's day, or cours'd
Over the sandy fields, leaping through groves
Of yellow grunsel, or when crag and hill,
The woods, and distant Skiddaw's lofty height,
Were bronz'd with a deep radiance, stood alone
Beneath the sky, as if I had been born
On Indian Plains, and from my Mother's hut
Had run abroad in wantonness, to sport,
A naked Savage, in the thunder shower.
That one, the fairest of all Rivers, lov'd
To blend his murmurs with my Nurse's song,
And from his alder shades and rocky falls,
And from his fords and shallows, sent a voice
That flow'd along my dreams? For this, didst Thou,
O Derwent! travelling over the green Plains
Near my 'sweet Birthplace', didst thou, beauteous Stream
Make ceaseless music through the night and day
Which with its steady cadence, tempering
Our human waywardness, compos'd my thoughts
To more than infant softness, giving me,
Among the fretful dwellings of mankind,
A knowledge, a dim earnest, of the calm
That Nature breathes among the hills and groves.
When, having left his Mountains, to the Towers
Of Cockermouth that beauteous River came,
Behind my Father's House he pass'd, close by,
Along the margin of our Terrace Walk.
He was a Playmate whom we dearly lov'd.
Oh! many a time have I, a five years' Child,
A naked Boy, in one delightful Rill,
A little Mill-race sever'd from his stream,
Made one long bathing of a summer's day,
Bask'd in the sun, and plunged, and bask'd again
Alternate all a summer's day, or cours'd
Over the sandy fields, leaping through groves
Of yellow grunsel, or when crag and hill,
The woods, and distant Skiddaw's lofty height,
Were bronz'd with a deep radiance, stood alone
Beneath the sky, as if I had been born
On Indian Plains, and from my Mother's hut
Had run abroad in wantonness, to sport,
A naked Savage, in the thunder shower.
Clinamenic
Binary & Tweed
Craners just upset he doesn’t know the way of the river. Wales famously has no rivers.
Clinamenic
Binary & Tweed
That's why he was so invested in Thatcher's water privatisation program as a youth.