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Przemysław GintrowskiEnglish version 2 / Versione inglese 2 / Version anglaise 2 /... | |
The Power of Taste It didn't require great character at all our refusal disagreement and resistance we had a shred of necessary courage but fundamentally it was a matter of taste Yes taste in which there are fibers of soul the cartilage of conscience Who knows if we had been better and more attractively tempted sent rose-skinned women thin as a wafer or fantastic creatures from the paintings of Hieronymus Bosch but what kind of hell was there at this time a wet pit the murderers' alley the barrack called a palace of justice a home-brewed Mephisto in a Lenin jacket sent Aurora's grandchildren out into the field boys with potato faces very ugly girls with red hands Verily their rhetoric was made of cheap sacking (Marcus Tullius kept turning in his grave) chains of tautologies a couple of concepts like flails the dialectics of slaughterers no distinctions in reasoning syntax deprived of beauty of the subjunctive So aesthetics can be helpful in life one should not neglect the study of beauty Before we declare our consent we must carefully examine the shape of the architecture the rhythm of the drums and pipes official colors the despicable ritual of funerals Our eyes and ears refused obedience the princes of our senses proudly chose exile It did not require great character at all we had a shred of necessary courage but fundamentally it was a matter of taste Yes taste that commands us to get out to make a wry face draw out a sneer even if for this the precious capital of the body the head must fall | The Power of Taste It did not take any great character our refusal dissent and persistence we had a scrap of necessary courage but essentially it was a matter of taste Yes taste which has bers of soul and the gristle of conscience Who knows if we’d been better more prettily tempted sent women pink and at as wafers or fantastic creatures out of Hieronymous Bosch but what did hell look like in those days a mud pit a cutthroat’s alley a barracks called a Palace of Justice a moonshine Mephisto in a Lenin jacket sent Aurora’s grandchildren into the eld boys with potato-eaters’ faces very ugly girls with red hands Truly their rhetoric was just too shoddy (Marcus Tullius turned in his grave) chains of tautologies a few ailing concepts torturers’ dialectics reasoning without grace syntax devoid of the beauty of the subjunctive So in fact aesthetics can be an aid in life one shouldn’t neglect the study of beauty Before we assent we must examine closely architectural forms rhythms of drum and fe ocial colors the homely rituals of burial Our eyes and ears refused to submit our princely senses chose proud exile It did not take any great character we had a scrap of necessary courage but in essence it was a matter of taste Yes taste which tells you to walk out wince spit out your scorn33 even if for that your body’s precious capital the head would roll |