Wednesday, January 28, 2015
THE PROOF OF THE GRAPE
The index of a vintage
is the season's history: how many
photons have fallen
through the skin. Equations
predict excellence. Unlike
the nose of connoisseurs,
the maths involved
are flawless, however
maculate the soil.
Deprive the vine of water,
it will eke its taproot deeper
down through solid strata
where it draws not only
succour for the turgor
of its foliage and fruit,
but hauls up half-formed
metaphors from minerals
lying latent in the clay,
imparts them to the grape
flesh where they mingle
and intensify as the sun-
washed clusters ripen.
These metaphors remain
embryonic until tongue
-cognized and -constituted
by a seasoned sommelier
who nearly knows them flawlessly.
The index of a vintage,
however reason may explain it,
retains intrinsic mystery—
the grape escapes its proof.
Posted by Zachariah Wells at 6:25 AM 0 comments
Sunday, January 4, 2015
The Rage of Extemporary Criticism
As it very seldom happens that the rage of extemporary criticism inflicts fatal or lasting wounds, I know not that the Laws of benevolence entitle this distress to much sympathy. The diversion of baiting an author has the sanction of all ages and nations, and is more lawful than the sport of teasing other animals, because for the most part he comes voluntarily to the stake, furnished, as he imagines, by the patron powers of literature with resistless weapons and impenetrable armour, with the mail of the boar of Erymanth, and the paws of the lion of Nemea.-Samuel Johnson
Posted by Zachariah Wells at 9:13 AM 0 comments
Thursday, January 1, 2015
ZW on Patreon
Posted by Zachariah Wells at 7:41 AM 0 comments