EppsNet Archive: Love

See You in Hell, Young Lovers

 

[See You in Hell is a feature by our guest blogger, Satan — PE] Greetings mortals! Gabby Petito is in Heaven now. As for Brian Laundrie, he and I will soon have a chance to get better acquainted. (By “soon” I don’t mean, like, next week, but when you’re operating on an eternal scale, as I am, even several decades seems soon.) I encourage people considering marriage to spend some time together first, maybe live together, maybe take a cross-country road trip . . . if you can’t stand to be around each other for an extended period of time, better to find out before the nuptials. See you in Hell! Read more →

EppsNet at the Movies: Night in Paradise

 

I found this film first-rate in every respect except . . . SPOILER ALERT! . . . the way the death of the hero was handled. Didn’t like that at all. That being said, I hope if something similarly bad happens to me that my girlfriend will also pack a gym bag with guns and ammo and massacre an entire restaurant full of the people responsible. That’s a great scene. She comes in, locks the front door, a creepy gangster type comes over and says with a sleazy grin, “No more seats. Come sit with us. We’re nice.” “I didn’t come to eat,” she replies, cocking a gun under his chin. “And get your hands off me.” So he’s the first guy to end up with his brains on the ceiling but not the last! Rating: Director: Cast: IMDb rating: ( votes) Read more →

Would There Be No One to Remember

 

Did you suffer at the end Would there be no one to remember Did you banish all the old ghosts With the terms of surrender And could you hear me calling out your name Well I guess that I will never know Michelangelo Last night I dreamed about you I dreamed that you were weeping And your tears poured down like diamonds For a love beyond all keeping And you caught them one by one In a million silk bandannas that I gave you long ago Michelangelo — Emmylou Harris, “Michelangelo” Read more →

When I Write the Book

 

And when I write the book about my love It will be about a man who’s torn in half About his hopes and ambitions wasted through the years The pain will be written on every page in tears When I write the book about my love — Nick Lowe, “When I Write the Book” Read more →

Epitaph

 

He loved, was not loved, and his life ended in disaster. Let’s leave it at that. Read more →

Life is Beautiful, Living is Pain

 

Hopes rise and dreams flicker and die. Love plans for tomorrow and loneliness thinks of yesterday. Life is beautiful and living is pain. The sound of music floats down a dark street. Hunter S. Thompson Read more →

EppsNet at the Movies: The Garden of Words

 

The Garden of Words is a beautiful short film about loneliness and love and longing, inspired by verses from the Manyoshu, an anthology of ancient Japanese poems: A faint clap of thunder Clouded skies Perhaps rain will come If so, will you stay here with me? A faint clap of thunder Even if rain comes or not I will stay here Together with you. Rain is a central motif in the film. Like the force of love, it can’t be controlled or stopped. Highly recommended! Rating:     Director: Cast: IMDb rating: ( votes) Read more →

EppsNet at the Movies: A Star is Born

 

OK, actually I haven’t seen A Star is Born and here’s why: When I go to the movies, I like to see something I’ve never seen before. I don’t care for sequels, prequels, reboots, spinoffs, adaptations of TV shows, video games, comic books or other movies. I don’t like love stories. I find them unrealistic. I read a lot and the books and authors I like mostly exclude the possibility of true love. What is worse than when you want to see a movie and someone spoils it by telling you how it ends? If you’re remaking A Star is Born for the fifth time, everyone already knows how it ends. You’ve spoiled your own movie.   Director: Cast: IMDb rating: ( votes) Read more →

See You in Hell, Champions of Diversity

 

[See You in Hell is a feature by our guest blogger, Satan — PE] I love diversity and inclusion and equity. Why do I love diversity and inclusion and equity? Because they make everyone hate each other even more than they already do. On one side, you have the people thinking “Look, life’s not a fucking fairy tale for anybody. I’ve been eating a shit sandwich every day of my adult life to stay alive in this profession and these narcissistic pricks want to coattail their way in on a ‘diversity’ exemption.” And on the other side: “The numbers prove that these privileged cocksuckers aren’t giving us a fair shake. Fuck ’em. Their time is over.” In fact, “love” is too weak a word for what I feel. I luuurve it! I loave it! I luff it, two F’s, yes I have to invent! Hell is open borders. Heaven has… Read more →

Someone to Love

 

When you long with all your heart for someone to love you, a madness grows there that shakes all sense from the trees and the water and the earth. And nothing lives for you, except the long deep bitter want. And this is what everyone feels from birth to death. — Denton Welch, Journal, 8 May 1944, 11.15 p.m. Read more →

Say One More Stupid Thing to Me

 

Sing me one more song, about you love me to the moon and the stranger And your fall by the sword love affair with Errol Flynn In these times of compassion when conformity’s in fashion Say one more stupid thing to me before the final nail is driven in. — Bob Dylan, “Foot of Pride” Read more →

She Never Even Knew It

 

Chapter XXII of George Eliot’s Middlemarch starts with an epigraph from Alfred de Musset: Nous câusames longtemps; elle était simple et bonne. Ne sachant pas le mal, elle faisait le bien; Des richesses du coeur elle me fit l’aumône, Et tout en écoutant comme le coeur se donne, Sans oser y penser je lui donnai le mien; Elle emporta ma vie, et n’en sut jamais rien. Some editions of Middlemarch provide a translation in a footnote: We talked for a long time; she was simple and kind. Knowing no evil, she did only good: She gave me alms from the riches of her heart, And listening intently as she poured out her heart, Scarcely daring to think, I gave her mine; Thus she carried off my life, and never even knew it. Read more →

Ghosts

 

You must not think that what I have accomplished through you could have been accomplished by any other means. Each of us is to himself indelible. I had to become that which could not be, by time, from human memory, erased. I had to burn my hungry, unappeasable furious spirit so inconsolably into you you would without cease write to bring me rest. Bring us rest. Guilt is fecund. I knew nothing I made myself had enough steel in it to survive. I tried: I made beautiful paintings, beautiful poems. Fluff. Garbage. The inextricability of love and hate? If I had merely made you love me you could not have saved me. — Frank Bidart, “The Ghost”   By Robert Lowell: Read more →

How Did the Rose Ever Open Its Heart?

 

How Did the rose Ever open its heart And give this world All its Beauty? It felt the encouragement of light Against its Being, Otherwise, We all remain Too Frightened — Hafez Read more →

Love Both

 

We must love them both, those whose opinions we share and those whose opinions we reject. — Thomas Aquinas (@AquinasQuotes) January 3, 2018 Read more →

Notes on Existential Well-Being

 

I’m taking an online class on existential well-being . . . posting some notes and thoughts: Well-being implies physical health, comfort, pleasure. It is also essential for human beings to have relationships with other people and to have a place in society. We speak of personal well-being when a person is able to develop their talents and feel at peace with him or herself. Beauty, compassion, truth, love — these are experiences of the “life force” or the “spirit.” In these spiritual experiences we transcend our limited self. We become part of something bigger and participate in universal qualities that nourish and enhance life. We are conscious of the physical, the social, the personal and the spiritual dimensions of human experience. We make no hierarchy between these dimensions. We recognize that human life is also characterized by suffering, pain and many limitations. We acknowledge that because of limitations, we are… Read more →

Crossing the Border

 

It takes so little, so infinitely little, for a person to cross the border beyond which everything loses meaning: love, conviction, faith, history. Human life — and herein lies its secret — takes place in the immediate proximity of that border, even in direct contact with it; it is not miles away, but a fraction of an inch. — Milan Kundera, The Book of Laughter and Forgetting Read more →

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