Selfreferential: Lets' talk about Me!

[Nathan deGargoyle]

Poem For People That Are Understandably Too Busy To Read Poetry

Relax. This won't last long.
Or if it does, or if the lines
make you sleepy or bored,
give in to sleep, turn on
the T.V., deal the cards.
This poem is built to withstand
such things. Its feelings
cannot be hurt. They exist
somewhere in the poet,
and I am far away.
Pick it up anytime. Start it
in the middle if you wish.
It is as approachable as melodrama,
and can offer you violence
if it is violence you like. Look,
there's a man on a sidewalk;
the way his leg is quivering
he'll never be the same again.
This is your poem
and I know you're busy at the office
or the kids are into your last nerve.
Maybe it's sex you've always wanted.
Well, they lie together
like the party's unbuttoned coats,
slumped on the bed
waiting for drunken arms to move them.
I don't think you want me to go on;
everyone has his expectations, but this
is a poem for the entire family.
Right now, Budweiser
is dripping from a waterfall,
deodorants are hissing into armpits
of people you resemble,
and the two lovers are dressing now,
saying farewell.
I don't know what music this poem
can come up with, but clearly
it's needed. For it's apparent
they will never see each other again
and we need music for this
because there was never music when he or she
left you standing on the corner.
You see, I want this poem to be nicer
than life. I want you to look at it
when anxiety zigzags your stomach
and the last tranquilizer is gone
and you need someone to tell you
I'll be here when you want me
like the sound inside a shell.
The poem is saying that to you now.
But don't give anything for this poem.
It doesn't expect much. It will never say more
than listening can explain.
Just keep it in your attache case
or in your house. And if you're not asleep
by now, or bored beyond sense,
the poem wants you to laugh. Laugh at
yourself, laugh at this poem, at all poetry.
Come on:

Good. Now here's what poetry can do.

Imagine yourself a caterpillar.
There's an awful shrug and, suddenly,
You're beautiful for as long as you live.

[Nathan deGargoyle]

A story by David Moser...


This Is the Title of This Story, Which Is Also Found Several Times in the Story Itself

This is the first sentence of this story. This is the second sentence. This is the title of this story, which is also found several times in the story itself. This sentence is questioning the intrinsic value of the first two sentences. This sentence is to inform you, in case you haven't already realized it, that this is a self-referential story, that is, a story containing sentences that refer to their own structure and function. This is a sentence that provides an ending to the first paragraph.

This is the first sentence of a new paragraph in a self-referential story. This sentence is introducing you to the protagonist of the story, a young boy named Billy. This sentence is telling you that Billy is blond and blue-eyed and American and twelve years old and strangling his mother. This sentence comments on the awkward nature of the self- referential narrative form while recognizing the strange and playful detachment it affords the writer. As if illustrating the point made by the last sentence, this sentence reminds us, with no trace of facetiousness, that children are a precious gift from God and that the world is a better place when graced by the unique joys and delights they bring to it.

This sentence describes Billy's mother's bulging eyes and protruding tongue and makes reference to the unpleasant choking and gagging noises she's making. This sentence makes the observation that these are uncertain and difficult times, and that relationships, even seemingly deep-rooted and permanent ones, do have a tendency to break down.

Introduces, in this paragraph, the device of sentence fragments. A sentence fragment. Another. Good device. Will be used more later.

This is actually the last sentence of the story but has been placed here by mistake. This is the title of this story, which is also found several times in the story itself. As Gregor Samsa awoke one morning from uneasy dreams he found himself in his bed transformed into a gigantic insect. This sentence informs you that the preceding sentence is from another story entirely (a much better one, it must be noted) and has no place at all in this particular narrative. Despite claims of the preceding sentence, this sentence feels compelled to inform you that the story you are reading is in actuality "The Metamorphosis" by Franz Kafka, and that the sentence referred to by the preceding sentence is the only sentence which does indeed belong in this story. This sentence overrides the preceding sentence by informing the reader (poor, confused wretch) that this piece of literature is actually the Declaration of Independence, but that the author, in a show of extreme negligence (if not malicious sabotage), has so far failed to include even one single sentence from that stirring document, although he has condescended to use a small sentence fragment, namely, "When in the course of human events", embedded in quotation marks near the end of a sentence. Showing a keen awareness of the boredom and downright hostility of the average reader with regard to the pointless conceptual games indulged in by the preceding sentences, this sentence returns us at last to the scenario of the story by asking the question, "Why is Billy strangling his mother?" This sentence attempts to shed some light on the question posed by the preceding sentence but fails. This sentence, however, succeeds, in that it suggests a possible incestuous relationship between Billy and his mother and alludes to the concomitant Freudian complications any astute reader will immediately envision. Incest. The unspeakable taboo. The universal prohibition. Incest. And notice the sentence fragments? Good literary device. Will be used more later.

This is the first sentence in a new paragraph. This is the last sentence in a new paragraph.

This sentence can serve as either the beginning of the paragraph or end, depending on its placement. This is the title of this story, which is also found several times in the story itself. This sentence raises a serious objection to the entire class of self-referential sentences that merely comment on their own function or placement within the story e.g., the preceding four sentences), on the grounds that they are monotonously predictable, unforgivably self- indulgent, and merely serve to distract the reader from the real subject of this story, which at this point seems to concern strangulation and incest and who knows what other delightful topics. The purpose of this sentence is to point out that the preceding sentence, while not itself a member of the class of self-referential sentences it objects to, nevertheless also serves merely to distract the reader from the real subject of this story, which actually concerns Gregor Samsa's inexplicable transformation into a gigantic insect (despite the vociferous counterclaims of other well- meaning although misinformed sentences). This sentence can serve as either the beginning of the paragraph or end, depending on its placement.

This is the title of this story, which is also found several times in the story itself. This is almost the title of the story, which is found only once in the story itself. This sentence regretfully states that up to this point the self-referential mode of narrative has had a paralyzing effect on the actual progress of the story itself -- that is, these sentences have been so concerned with analyzing themselves and their role in the story that they have failed by and large to perform their function as communicators of events and ideas that one hopes coalesce into a plot, character development, etc. -- in short, the very raisons d'etre of any respectable, hardworking sentence in the midst of a piece of compelling prose fiction. This sentence in addition points out the obvious analogy between the plight of these agonizingly self-aware sentences and similarly afflicted human beings, and it points out the analogous paralyzing effects wrought by excessive and tortured self- examination.

The purpose of this sentence (which can also serve as a paragraph) is to speculate that if the Declaration of Independence had been worded and structured as lackadaisically and incoherently as this story has been so far, there's no telling what kind of warped libertine society we'd be living in now or to what depths of decadence the inhabitants of this country might have sunk, even to the point of deranged and debased writers constructing irritatingly cumbersome and needlessly prolix sentences that sometimes possess the questionable if not downright undesirable quality of referring to themselves and they sometimes even become run-on sentences or exhibit other signs of inexcusably sloppy grammar like unneeded superfluous redundancies that almost certainly would have insidious effects on the lifestyle and morals of our impressionable youth, leading them to commit incest or even murder and maybe that's why Billy is strangling his mother, because of sentences just like this one, which have no discernible goals or perspicuous purpose and just end up anywhere, even in mid

Bizarre. A sentence fragment. Another fragment. Twelve years old. This is a sentence that. Fragmented. And strangling his mother. Sorry, sorry. Bizarre. This. More fragments. This is it. Fragments. The title of this story, which. Blond. Sorry, sorry. Fragment after frag- ment. Harder. This is a sentence that. Fragments. darn/it good device.

The purpose of this sentence is threefold: (1) to apologize for the unfortunate and inexplicable lapse exhibited by the preceding paragraph; (2) to assure you, the reader, that it will not happen again; and (3) to reiterate the point that these are uncertain and difficult times and that aspects of language, even seemingly stable and deeply rooted ones such as syntax and meaning, do break down. This sentence adds nothing substantial to the sentiments of the preceding sentence but merely provides a concluding sentence to this paragraph, which otherwise might not have one.

This sentence, in a sudden and courageous burst of altruism, tries to abandon the self-referential mode but fails. This sentence tries again, but the attempt is doomed from the start.

This sentence, in a last-ditch attempt to infuse some iota of story line into this paralyzed prose piece, quickly alludes to Billy's frantic cover-up attempts, followed by a lyrical, touching, and beautifully written passage wherein Billy is reconciled with his father (thus resolving the subliminal Freudian conflicts obvious to any astute reader) and a final exciting police chase scene during which Billy is accidentally shot and killed by a panicky rookie policeman who is coincidentally named Billy. This sentence, although basically in complete sympathy with the laudable efforts of the preceding action-packed sentence, reminds the reader that such allusions to a story that doesn't, in fact, yet exist are no substitute for the real thing and therefore will not get the author (indolent goof-off that he is) off the proverbial hook.

Paragraph. Paragraph. Paragraph. Paragraph. Paragraph. Paragraph. Paragraph. Paragraph. Paragraph. Paragraph. Paragraph. Paragraph. Paragraph. Paragraph.

The purpose. Of this paragraph. Is to apologize. For its gratuitous use. Of. Sentence fragments. Sorry.

The purpose of this sentence is to apologize for the pointless and silly adolescent games indulged in by the preceding two paragraphs, and to express regret on the part of us, the more mature sentences, that the entire tone of this story is such that it can't seem to communicate a simple, albeit sordid, scenario.

This sentence wishes to apologize for all the needless apologies found in this story (this one included), which, although placed here ostensibly for the benefit of the more vexed readers, merely delay in a maddeningly recursive way the continuation of the by-now nearly forgotten story line.

This sentence is bursting at the punctuation marks with news of the dire import of self-reference as applied to sentences, a practice that could prove to be a veritable Pandora's box of potential havoc, for if a sentence can refer or allude to itself, why not a lowly subordinate clause, perhaps this very clause? Or this sentence fragment? Or three words? Two words? One?

Perhaps it is appropriate that this sentence gently and with no trace of condescension reminds us that these are indeed difficult and uncertain times and that in general people just aren't nice enough to each other, and perhaps we, whether sentient human beings or sentient sentences, should just try harder. I mean, there is such a thing as free will, there has to be, and this sentence is proof of it! Neither this sentence nor you, the reader, is completely helpless in the face of all the pitiless forces at work in the universe. We should stand our ground, face facts, take Mother Nature by the throat and just try harder.

By the throat. Harder. Harder, harder.

Sorry.

This is the title of this story, which is also found several times in the story itself.

This is the last sentence of the story. This is the last sentence of the story. This is the last sentence of the story. This is.

Sorry.

[Nathan deGargoyle]

This sentence no verb.

[Daz Madrigal]

I'm not gettin any happier.

[Nathan deGargoyle]

This is the Title of this Article

There is a certain elegance in self-reference. This concept is most obvious in language. A well-known set of examples can be found in William Safire's Rules for Writers. This is a set of grammatical rules, each of which makes its point by breaking the rule it describes. Some of the better examples include:

Don't use no double negatives.

Verbs has to agree with their subjects.

Always avoid alliteration.

Proofread carefully to see if you any words out.

About sentence fragments.

More of these rules will be discussed as we proceed; but we must remember to avoid cliches like the plague.

There are some marvellous self-referential words in English, such as pentasyllabic. Sometimes, the more intriguing words are the "near misses", or the words that could be self-referencing, but aren't. For example, monosyllabic isn't. And why is abbreviation such a long word? (And don't start a sentence with a conjunction.) It's easy to find an antonym for "antonym", but can you think of a synonym for "synonym"? Why isn't "palindrome" a palindrome? The word "aibohphobia" has been coined for the fear of palindromes. But, of course, the passive voice is to be avoided when writing.

Sentences can be self-referencing, such as: "This sentence contains five words." To take it one step further, have you ever looked up "dictionary" in a dictionary? Is the word "encyclopedia" in your encyclopedia? Who needs rhetorical questions, anyway?

The world of computing also has some inherent self-references. You can use a Web Search Engine to find Search Engines. A strong point of some computer languages such as Pascal is an ability to use recursive procedure calls. In recursion, a procedure can call itself, with each call "stacked" on top of the last until the top one terminates.

The ability of a computer program to receive its own source code as input became a necessary step in a proof that some problems are not "computable". This was devised by Alan Turing, the father of modern computer science. The incomputable problem he found was to write a computer program that would test other computer programs to determine if they would terminate. (It is easy to write a program that will not terminate - just code in a loop back to the start.)

The proof starts with the assumption that a "termination tester" program can be written, and then proceeds to demonstrate the falsity of this assumption by showing a logical contradiction. If such a program can be written, then it would be possible to write it in such a way that the termination tester itself terminates if the input program code is proven not to terminate. It could also be made to loop forever if the input program is found to terminate. It also follows that the termination tester can then be run using itself as input. Thus, if it terminates, the test of the tester will not terminate; but if it doesn't terminate, the test will terminate.

This form of self-reference is slightly indirect; much like the sentence pair:

The following statement is false.

The preceding statement is true.

This can be made more directly self-referencing by simply stating:

This statement is false.

This is known as the Epimenides Paradox. The subject of self-reference is treated in great detail in Douglas Hofstadter's book of 1979: Gödel, Escher, Bach: An Eternal Golden Braid. In this book, Hofstadter explains the mathematical theorems of Kurt Gödel, by drawing on illustrations from the art of M. C. Escher, and the music of J. S. Bach. The briefest statement of Gödel's Incompleteness Theorem is: "All consistent axiomatic formulations of number theory include undecidable propositions." But let's eschew obfuscation. Put more simply, Gödel's work showed that any mathematical system that is powerful enough to be useful is necessarily incomplete. His proof of this is similar to Turing's non-computability proof in its use of self-reference.

Self-reference in art is shown clearly in the M. C. Escher ink drawings throughout Hofstadter's book; the famous ever-rising staircase and many others. An indirect self-reference is shown in Escher's Drawing Hands. The canons and fugues of Bach show this effect in music. In a direct self-reference, Bach encoded his own surname into the last line of Art of the Fugue. This is made possible by the German usage of 'B' for B flat, and 'H' for the English 'B'. This was the last piece of music that he wrote before his death.

An interesting form of visual self-reference is the use of a copy of a picture within itself, such as the magazine cover picture of a person reading the same magazine, with the cover picture shown. Hofstadter refers to this as "self-engulfing", and discusses the effects of a video camera focussed on a television monitor showing the picture from the camera. This produces an infinite series of smaller and smaller screens, much like parallel mirrors.

Another form of self-reference in language is in poetry. An elegant example in limerick is:

There once was a lady from Crewe
Whose limericks stopped at line two.

Or, to take it one more step: "There once was a man from Verdun." To return to grammatical examples: "One will not have needed the future perfect in one's entire life." Douglas Adams, in The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy has a prod at Star Trek with: "... to boldly split infinitives that no man has split before." In other variations on Safire:

Any noun can be verbed.

Even if a mixed metaphor sings, it should be derailed.

Analogies in writing are like feathers on a snake.

Of course, such things are not restricted to the English language. Some non-English examples do not even translate into English, such as the very German "Uemlaeute sind toell". Even in our use of the spoken language, we can pronounce "glottal stop" with a glottal stop.

In yet another consideration, if the man who invented the drawing board had got it wrong, what would he have gone back to? As a final thought, I guess that life is like a simile.

From www.users.bigpond.com/kdelarue/10sref.htm