Tres imbris torti radios, tres nubis aquosæ
Addiderant; rutili tres ignis, et alitis austri:
Fulgores nunc terrificos, sonitumque, metumque
Miscebant operi, flammisque sequacibus iras.
“Three rays of twisted showers, three of watery clouds,
three of fire, and three of the winged south wind; then
mixed they in the work terrific lightnings, and sound, and
fear, and anger, with pursuing flames.”
-Virgil, The Aeneid
This strange composition is formed into a gross body;
it is hammered by the Cyclops, it is in part polished,
and partly continues rough.
-Edmund Burke, On the Sublime and Beautiful.
Let us compare the image of Prince Namor to that of Doctor Spock.
Let us compare Virgil's Cave of Vulcan to Human Culture.
Let us compare the nucleated cell to the structure of an idea.
Let us compare the Sublime to Electromagnetism.
Let us compare Subjective Will to Objective Force.
Let us compare vision to hearing.
Let us compare the origin and the end of theory.
Let us compare Nature to Nature, Rhyme to Rim.
Let us compare image to text, and Iconology to Ideology.
Let us Compare Youth to Spontaneity, and Age to Inertia.
Let us compare Nothing.
Let us repair Forever the Injustices which are Born of Comparisons.
Let us be thankful for the Comparisons which have led us to this Forking.
Let us compare Ourselves to an unspeakable Form.
Let us compare Form to Time.
Let us compare Knowledge to Space, and Decision to Danger.
Let us compare Action to Prayer, and Prayer to Questioning.
Lettuce Golem gesticulates, comparing the imaginal
to the real, the real to the non-existent,
the absent to the presence of mind which must
forever compare, repairing to the cave
of Vulcan wherefore once again logic
may be conjoined to passion, to compassion
and the comparisoned implicities of explicit
comparisons.
