Some have at first for wits, then poets pass’d,
Turn’d critics next, and prov’d plain fools at last;
Some neither can for wits nor critics pass,
As heavy mules are neither horse nor ass.
Those half-learn’d witlings, num’rous in our isle
As half-form’d insects on the banks of Nile;
Unfinish’d things, one knows not what to call,
Their generation’s so equivocal:
To tell ’em, would a hundred tongues require,
Or one vain wit’s, that might a hundred tire.
Alexander Pope (1688-1744)
Part
I, Part
II, Part
III
—An Essay on Criticism (Representative Poetry Online)
I think it’s probably safe to guess what Alexander Pope would think of blogging. Bear in mind, though, that he was writing this at the ripe old age of 20.
A quick Sunday visit to #fortligonier with my history-loving son.
The choreographer daughter is doing a thing.
No interior yet. Getting there. Gotta start somewhere. Low-poly background detail for a medieval theater…
This is manageable. Far better than some semesters.
Creating textures for background buildings in a medieval theater simulation project. I can always improve…
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He can be a little harsh, can't he? :)
Pope obviously had no interest in teaching writing.