Long before Joseph Beuys declared that we all must be artists, Lautréamont wrote: “La poésie doit être faite par tous. Non par un. Pauvre Hugo! Pauvre Racine! Pauvre Coppée! Pauvre Corneille! Pauvre Boileau! Pauvre Scarron! Tics, tics, et tics.”

Bob disses the “bourgey” ruling class and their tawdry ideas of crown and coronation, prior to his ideological reversal and royalist accommodations at the end of the film.  1:03.  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nRiJF0CvlYc

Love. Labor. Lost. - The New York Times

Love. Labor. Lost. - The New York Times

The Rank and File’s Paper of Record | Jacobin

The Rank and File’s Paper of Record | Jacobin

Mahler: Adagio from Symphony no. 10 (Cleveland Orchestra, Boulez) - YouTube

Mahler: Adagio from Symphony no. 10 (Cleveland Orchestra, Boulez) - YouTube

The visit to Freud was one way of working through the crisis partly sparked by his wife's infidelities; the other was the Tenth Symphony. Mahler covered the pages of its manuscript with tortured outcries - "Madness, seize me, the accursed! Negate me, so I forget that I exist, that I may cease to be!", or "To live for you! To die for you!", and even the dedication of the love song at the heart of the Symphony's finale to his wife, using an affectionate form of her name, "Almschi!" Alma stayed with Mahler during his final illness, accompanying him from New York to Paris to Vienna, where he died of a blood infection on May 18, 1911.

Marilyn Horne " Liebst du um Schönheit" Mahler - YouTube

Marilyn Horne " Liebst du um Schönheit" Mahler - YouTube

Few songs just 'sound like' a composer in the process of falling in love.
Liebst du um Schönheit,
O nicht mich liebe!
Liebe die Sonne,
Sie trägt ein gold'nes Haar!

Liebst du um Jugend,
O nicht mich liebe!
Liebe den Frühling,
Der jung ist jedes Jahr!

Liebst du um Schätze,
O nicht mich liebe.
Liebe die Meerfrau,
[Die]1 hat viel Perlen klar.

Liebst du um Liebe,
O ja, mich liebe!
Liebe mich immer,
Dich lieb' ich immerdar.

If you love for beauty,
Oh do not love me!
Love the sun,
It has gold hair!

If you love for youth,
Oh do not love me!
Love the spring-time
That is young each year!

If you love for wealth,
Oh do not love me!
Love the mermaid,
[Who]1 has many limpid pearls!

If you love for love,
Oh yes, love me!
Love me forever;
I will love you forevermore!

Counting On i.m. r.c.

Counting On

i.m. r.c.

The beach feels hot under our feet

turning us inside and out.

To be with you is to be without you:
you stay the same, always different.

Filling with sand, wipe-outs,
prolific shoots, location shots,

I had thought to sleep meant to dream,
to wake to take everything for the worse.

Outside the mechanics, outside the grind,
the venture in wanting long life.

For now you touch, are touched —
prove everything exists by measures

taken in or out the sea —
and the long sweep wavering

suddenly seems half the stretch
we are keeping to ourselves.

Come further inshore.  Ensure —
gesture and delay.