SUNDAY,;NOVEMBER 11, 1923 THE MICHIGAN DAILY PAGE TIRE
genius is prone to rest after hours tion of conscious inhibition. A true
of breathless labor, and to gaze back genius rises casily and naturally above
upon the creation before hins. Often the distraction of the petty, biased,
he is startled by its splendor, amazed conscious mind. The other, the less
by its perfection. It seems a thing fortunate must in some way destroy
strangely apart from him, a thing its influence. Therefore he proceeds
he ,could not have done. It awes himI to stir up some form of passion and to
that his pen, his brush, his bow, could fan it to a heat where it will partly E
have struck off such a perfect crea- consume and benumb the conscious
tion. Genius is not a thing of our- sensibilities. The vast reservoir of By SC G VA N
selves, it is a thing of the self we have subliminal .thought is then accessible.
not seen. There he finds the constructive reali-
A genius is capable of greater sus- ties, and from that great source he
tained effort than the ordinary man draws. However, evil is the distruc-
could endure. The gifted man will tion of itself and the trespasser soon
labor until the creation is complete. finds the flame eating ever deeper, Thin-slumped-shouldered from the pushing weight of "what seems to
though he be exhausted by the effort. until his entire mind be perverted or prayer" perched upon my puny shoulders, I sit staring at beautiful blank
Without the urge of genius he could consumed. The connection is broken. white paper soon to be besmirched and over-run by garblings of a nostalgic.
not 'persist. In this sustained labor, for the conscious mind of the genius Tired of week in and week out gathering together fourteen inches of material
however, lies a danger which may ul- is merely the connecting link, the ser- for a c lun of quotes which attempt to be not a collection of 'Gems to be
timately break down the fine machine. vant to the subconscious. Let the Memorized" or these things "pa reads to ma while she's doing the supper
However, the greater the genius, thb flame continue and it eats on into all Idishes and then they both say: 'Ain't that so!' and wag their heads for
greater will be the endurance. Men sensibilities and receptively is de- fifteen minutes-and then repeat". I say that's what it tried not be be.
have been known to resort to all sort' stroyed. Now, out of it all let us Nevertheless I have grown tired of it, ceaseless, undisturbed procession
of devices in the attempt to increase emerge and crystallize these thoughts; of reprinted wagons. So I have hit upon the plan of interpiercing it with
their mental susceptibilities. Cole- Genius is primarily constructive and such freaks as this; for what is a parade without its elephants, camels,
ridge caroused and doped that he mentally untainted; faltering genius clown band and calliope?
might give us 'The Ancient Mariner.' is tainted and destructive,-destruct-
In the weird visions of drug-induced ive even of itself.
And what freaks these will be! For ego is all I know about. When I
sleep he saw and later penned 'Kubla There is a question ever present as tabl In the
Kha. Cuntes otershae a on t th posiiliy ad he ean ! thought that I was conscienciously observing people from my tbe i h
Khan.' 'Countless others have at one to the possibility and the mseansof tap-room, from my second section balcony seat the the Whitney or my
time or another assailed and benumb- coaxing this elusive something to
ed hei boiestha th mid mghtfloris inmenmor abndatly Itthird shelf seat at Hill Auditorium concerts I had simply used them as
ed their bodies that the mind might flourish in men more abundantly. It baffle plates against which to react so that I might direct the reaction rath-
quicken. Frequently things of beauty cannot be done. The very word genius! er than the person or persons under observation. This I audaciously claim
have resulted; at least the world has implies born to the trade. Educa- to be egoism rather than the less reputable egotism-no matter what you
accepted them as beautiful. General- tional systems are no aids to genius. or others might-for selfishness is a prime mover In this less reputable
ly, however, the works of a degener- Our present system is a cruel sup- attitude and certainly you or others cannot claim such a process as that
ate are void of constructive elements. pression of that rare gift. Men P00- above mentioned to be motivated by selfishness....Ho hum! Let's see....
They are brilliant, merely brilliant. sessing the potentiality of genius are oh yes....so an-occasional column of ego shall break the monotony of these
What creative elements they may con- often crushed before the blossoming, red painted wagons ponderously dragged past by the prancing white horses
tam result from the artificial destruc- (Continued on Page Four) of my enthusiasm.

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While in school I was of that intellectual snobishness which heartily
mocked the Sat. Eve. Post, the American and Cosmo, but now and here--
evil time and evil spot, where no one who knows see-I invested in the Post.
Tomorrow will hear again the hearty scoffs; for today I energetically poke
my index finger into the soft palate of my mind in an attempt to rid it of
that nickel's worth of vapidity.
But here-you'll have to know the place in order to sympathize--is a
wee small town in the State of New York surrounded almost completely by
three wee small "Incorporated Villages" like an ashen grey cameo set be-
tween three poorly cut chip diamonds, pinned tightly in the valley b'tween
the pasture scarred brests of two wooded hills. Street cars a la Ann Arbor,
bounce and vibrate over several miles of track like those I have known to
bump over the Monroe Street straight-away. In these I again assume the old
observant attitude of the tap-room days and make caustic word combinations
to apply to the poor chinless creature across the car and her pursed-lipped
etherial blonde friend who, overbold, points to the toe of her grey left foot
toward a spot in the middle of the aisle and draws forth a disgusted but
suppressed verdict: Poseur! But she again purses her overly large mouth
into distorted cupid-bows, arches her eyebrows apd condescendingly speaks
with the chinless one. Her manner makes me boil and I find myself picking"
out that "school-girl" complexion and somewhat daintier feetof Chinless-
admiration of the damned born of soft shelled pity!
So you see in a place like this there are no better rules for the sane
than:, "II faut etre tonjours ivre: Tout est. Ia: c'est l'unique question.
Pour ne pas sentir i'horrible fardeau du Temps qui brise vos epaules et vous
penche vers la terre, il faut vous enivre sans treve.-Mais de quoi? De vin,
de poesie on de vertu a votre guise. Mais enivrez-vous."
But of virtue-what is there left? There is no virtue in forced inno-
cence and such are the conditions here. Not two days had passed until the
particular Incorporated Village into which I had dropped spoke freely
among itself of the new young man with the moustache who had come to
!work at the shops. After another day there was much excitement over
Sthatfact that Grace, whose brother went to Michigan last year, could not
find his picture in the Michiganensi n. And ever since they have kept my
coming and going in its proper place in their order of broadcasting over
the back-fences, and ladies aids and street-car confabs.
Of poesie-well a Sandburgian chug of the shops. A day, rhythmically
metred and punctuated by the low melodious outbrusts of the shop's whistle.
Infrequent interludes of a jiggy street car-all-of that-yes.
Of wine-I have already said that this is in New York State.
And on Sunday I walk in the woods. Climb those pasture scarred
breasts of two wooded hills. In a gulch above the pasture of two cows-one
of which wears a tinkling bell as clear as the traditional ones of the Alpine
goats-I lean against a tree and my knees nervously tremble and my head
swims from the exertion I have given this puny, almost worthless body of
mine. And the old lure of Earth calls. I have a desire to throw myself flat
upon her. But she is now Frost's faithful mistress. He is her nightly visitor
and her coldness repels me. So clambering down the rock-strewn freshet
path I strike the right wagon track of a little country road and go walk-
ing along talking to myself except when people are passing. I stop then for
fear they might think me insane. Then I curse myself for caring what other
people might think!

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