Thursday, December 22, 2016

The Meadow in December

Filed under: General — Tags: — m759 @ 7:00 PM

"icy white and crystalline" — Johnny Mercer

From a search in this journal for Hudson Hawk

See also Stella Octangula.

Tuesday, December 19, 2017

A Mythologem for Meletinsky

Filed under: General,Geometry — Tags: — m759 @ 11:00 AM

The word "mythologem" on page 55 of The Burning Fountain 
by Philip Wheelwright, revised edition of 1968 (p. 91 in the 1954
edition), suggests a Web search for that word. It was notably often
used in the 1998 English translation of a book by Eleazar Meletinsky
first published in Russian in 1976 —

Meletinsky reportedly died on December 17, 2005.

In his memory, Log24 posts from that date are now tagged Mythologem Day.

"And we may see the meadow in December,
icy white and crystalline" — Johnny Mercer

Tuesday, December 8, 2015

Never Stop Exploring.

Filed under: General — m759 @ 9:29 PM

"And we may see the meadow in December…."

Little Kay was quite blue, yes nearly black with cold;
but he did not observe it, for she had kissed away
all feeling of cold from his body, and his heart was
a lump of ice. He was dragging along some pointed
flat pieces of ice, which he laid together in all possible
ways, for he wanted to make something with them;
just as we have little flat pieces of wood to make
geometrical figures with, called the Chinese Puzzle.
Kay made all sorts of figures, the most complicated,
for it was an ice-puzzle for the understanding.
In his eyes the figures were extraordinarily beautiful,
and of the utmost importance; for the bit of glass
which was in his eye caused this. He found whole
figures which represented a written word; but he
never could manage to represent just the word
he wanted–that word was "eternity"; and the
Snow Queen had said, "If you can discover that figure,
you shall be your own master, and I will make you
a present of the whole world and a pair of new skates."
But he could not find it out.

— From The Snow Queen , by Hans Christian Andersen

See also the Chinese Puzzle in the previous post.

Sunday, February 17, 2013

Zero Theorem

Filed under: General — m759 @ 12:25 AM

See "Mind of Winter" in this journal.

"And we may see the meadow in December…."

Friday, April 6, 2012

Spectral Theory

Filed under: General,Geometry — Tags: , , , — m759 @ 8:00 AM

“And we may see the meadow in December,
icy white and crystalline” — Johnny Mercer

“At another end of the sexual confusion spectrum….”

IMAGE- Frank Langella and Liam Neeson in 'Unknown'

The devil likes metamorphoses.

Tuesday, December 20, 2011

St. Emil’s Day

Filed under: General — m759 @ 8:48 AM

For Emil Artin

“And we may see
the meadow in December,
icy white and crystalline.”

— Johnny Mercer, “Midnight Sun”

Friday, June 9, 2006

Friday June 9, 2006

Filed under: General — m759 @ 10:31 AM
The Meadow
continued from
December 18, 2005

“After I had advanced a good while I came finally to a lovely meadow hedged about with a round circle of fruit bearing trees, and called by the dwellers Pratum felicitatis [the meadow of felicity].”

— From page 2 of   
Problems of Mysticism
and Its Symbolism, by
Herbert Silberer, 1914
 (English translation
published in 1917)

“And we may see
the meadow in December,
icy white and crystalline.”

— Johnny Mercer,
  “Midnight Sun

“The author of the preceding narrative calls it a parable. Its significance may have indeed appeared quite transparent to him, and he presupposes that the readers of his day knew what form of learning he masked in it. The story impresses us as rather a fairy story or a picturesque dream.”

— Silberer, Problems of Mysticism online

Tuesday, December 20, 2005

Tuesday December 20, 2005

Filed under: General — m759 @ 12:00 AM

“Heaven– Where Is It?
  How Do We Get There?”

To air on ABC
Tuesday, Dec. 20
(John Spencer’s birthday)

Fred Stein, 1945

“And we may see
the meadow in December,
icy white and crystalline.”

— Johnny Mercer,
“Midnight Sun”
See also a Brooklyn version.

Sunday, December 18, 2005

Sunday December 18, 2005

Filed under: General — m759 @ 8:11 AM

The Meadow

“Heaven– Where Is It?
  How Do We Get There?”

To air on ABC
Tuesday, Dec. 20
(John Spencer’s birthday)

By Trevanian, who died on
Wednesday, Dec. 14, 2005:


“Well… the flow of the play was just right, and it began to bring me to the meadow. It always begins with some kind of flowing motion… a stream or river, maybe the wind making waves in a field of ripe rice, the glitter of leaves moving in a breeze, clouds flowing by. And for me, if the structure of the Go stones is flowing classically, that too can bring me to the meadow.”

“The meadow?”

“Yes. That’s the place I expand into. It’s how I recognize that I am resting.”

“Is it a real meadow?”

“Yes, of course.”

“A meadow you visited at one time? A place in your memory?”

“It’s not in my memory. I’ve never been there when I was diminished.”


“You know… when I’m in my body and not resting.”

“You consider normal life to be a diminished state, then?”

“I consider time spent at rest to be normal. Time like this… temporary, and… yes, diminished.”

“Tell me about the meadow, Nikko.”

“It is triangular. And it slopes uphill, away from me. The grass is tall. There are no animals. Nothing has ever walked on the grass or eaten it. There are flowers, a breeze… warm. Pale sky. I’m always glad to be the grass again.”

“You are the grass?”

“We are one another. Like the breeze, and the yellow sunlight. We’re all… mixed in together.”

“I see. I see. Your description of the mystic experience resembles others I have read. And this meadow is what the writers call your ‘gateway’ or ‘path.’ Do you ever think of it in those terms?”


“So. What happens then?”

“Nothing. I am at rest. I am everywhere at once. And everything is unimportant and delightful. And then… I begin to diminish. I separate from the sunlight and the meadow, and I contract again back into my bodyself. And the rest is over.” Nicholai smiled uncertainly. “I suppose I am not describing it very well, Teacher. It’s not… the kind of thing one describes.”

“No, you describe it very well, Nikko. You have evoked a memory in me that I had almost lost. Once or twice when I was a child… in summer, I think… I experienced brief transports such as you describe. I read once that most people have occasional mystic experiences when they are children, but soon outgrow them. And forget them….”

“And we may see
the meadow in December,
icy white and crystalline.”

— Johnny Mercer,
  “Midnight Sun

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