Modern Skepticism Does Poetry?!

Some May Call it Click-bait

"So too in the waning days, does the heart feel compunction for its persistent folly"

- Adrian Giorgio, circa 1:30 pm May 4th, 2017

Pacé, poets. This is what I could muster. For quite some time I spurned your arcane methods as an incitement of unreason, and blatant demonstrations of emotional flailing. I have since abandoned that primitive mentality in favour of a perspective that I feel will provide me with a greater sense of majesty and bliss. As such, I'll add rather superfluously that the above quotation is an M.S original; ironic, seeing as its charming inefficacy may appear to be paralyzing to readers for different reasons. That is not an attempt at flippancy or cruelty toward the medically afflicted, merely an observation whose relevance can hardly be called negligible. 

Toward this discipline I formerly ascribed the axiom "The sleep of reasons brings forth monsters"; the dastardly stuff that recommends turning off the mind to achieve happiness. Once again, humanity wishes to rescind and discard the most precious endowment we have ever developed, in favour of an alleged utopia of mindlessness. For I asserted that a mode of writing whose literary goals were often intentionally oblique and vague, to not only be a waste of time and ink, but to do a gross disservice to the reader. Although I do maintain that poetry is in many ways esoterica, seeing as a layman like me would require a slog of annotations and commentary on the author's intentions and convictions in their piece - an opinion that I've learned is overwhelmingly unpopular among modern poetic circles. 

I now know that my perception is probably more reflective of a lack of refinement and understanding, and should probably provoke me to study and appreciate the medium further. Thus, I will rely on the help and zeal of my contemporaries who excel in this way - yes, that is an outright evocation of you, Ms. Goltsis. 

I now come to the pivotal moment: my exegesis and prescription of interpreting this work's introduction. The impression that I am referring to matters of romance and the mysteries of love is a position that I would expect to follow axiomatically upon anyone's reception. Yet, rather unsurprisingly, that is not my aim. I suppose that is somewhat ironic and hypocritical, seeing as I am being intentionally deceptive, beguiling and forcing the reader to perceive a surfeit of understandings. Nonetheless, I arrive at my explanation. As one approaches death and meanders about old age, I am given to understand that excessive reminiscence and rumination necessarily ensue. In doing so, one begins to review and recount the nature and source of all their personal lifelong convictions, and eventually arrive at those of the politically philosophical realm. I would propose that an onslaught of personal criticism and upbraiding would follow, revealing to oneself how often they fashioned alliances based off of an emotional whim rather than rational consideration. This to me sounds, as mildly as I can put it - displeasing. Dissuaded by demagogy, glibness, and hysteria, (tools so fanatically employed by politicians) one arrives at the potentially devastating conclusion that they frequently sought refuge in the false security of consensus. Pumped up by howling rallies, an innate and irresistible urge to secure sodality with other primates, and a tawdrily
misguiding compulsion to protect social face. Finally reaching the inevitable epiphany that, they too, had fallen prey to this constrictive mammalian shortcoming - credulity. Oh what they could have accomplished, if they had only rejected the falsely enticing allure of impulse.

Maybe a bit condescending, but bear in mind that I thoroughly believe this applies to me as well. I'd like to include an example of one of my recent errors in judgment, and I shall attempt to quote it as best as I can from memory. The Hitch tangled with Heston on a mini-debate concerning the productivity and necessity of the Gulf War in 1991:

Hitch: "I have a question for Mr. Heston. Can he provide counterclockwise the neighbouring 
countries that share a border with Iraq?"
Heston: "Why yes I can, although I think those borders are soon to be quite flexible..."
Hitch: "-It wouldn't take a minute..."
Heston: "...Let me come to your comment. Kuwait, Bahrain, Turkey, Russia, Iran"
Hitch: "Right, so you have no idea where it is in other words. You have no idea where the country is on the map, and you're in favor of bombing it, on the whim of a president! This is the kind of instantaneous barbarism..."
Mediator: "I-I am not sure that the instantaneous command of the geography of a region... (Heston chuckles in the background)"
Hitch: "Oh I don't know I feel if you're in favour of bombing a country you might pay it the complement of knowing where it is" (words ensue)
Heston: "Our veto of the nuclear arms pact, has to do with our fear of Soviet nuclear weapons. You don't agree? You seem rather extreme, Mr. Hitchens"
Hitch: "Oh comon, this is insulting. That's as true Mr. Heston, as your supposition that Bahrain, which is an island, shares a common border with Iraq... I don't see why, Reganite hacks of this kind, are consulted for their opinion... (accusations by Heston of ad hominem attacks as opposed to rational discussion follow, as well as wasting valuable network time and dishing out high-school geography lessons and views)
Hitch: "Keep your hair-piece on"

As entertaining as that excerpt and exchange was, and as much as it initially buttressed my sympathies with Hitchens, I know see how cheap my first conviction was. Although Christopher does have a point about Heston's clueless nature, and how consulting his opinion on such matters is about as pertinent as deferring to a Catholic Bishop for advice on sexual prowess, Hitchens could have demonstrated more evidence for his stance as opposed to clever jeers and rhetoric. I am not well informed enough to have a position on this topic, but I certainly know that I don't want to be swayed by humour and wit. Unfortunately, I did find myself prematurely dialed well to the left of this kerfuffle; undoubtedly due to my reverence for Hitchens and his spell-binding charisma. 

In short, as beautiful and as valuable as human emotion and empathy can be, their offerings should not be considered so respectable in pressing intellectual matters - a concept that, despite having been stated plainly time and time again, remains foreign to humans.

Make of my passage what you will primates, as poetry so inherently demands.