Thanks for quoting from the song. I meant the album. As to the song, it is a cliche of Dylan story-songs to describe them as 'cinematic'. In this vein, the song 'Tempest' marks a first for Dylan where, in the part of Jim Dandy, there is a starring role for Mickey Rooney: "Jim Dandy smiled He never learned to swim Saw the little crippled child And he gave his seat to him" D On Saturday, 30 November 2013, 20:48, "Jlsperanza@xxxxxxx" <Jlsperanza@xxxxxxx> wrote: In "Philosophy: A Very Short Introduction," _donalmcevoyuk@xxxxxxxx.uk_ (mailto:donalmcevoyuk@xxxxxxxxxxx) asks: >what does Mike think of 'Tempest'? Geary does not display an opinion, but asks for clarification -- in logical terms: "p v q" -- i.e. "Tempest" as in 'in a teapot' or 'of the 'we are such stuff as dreams are made of'. He indicates that his use of 'or' is what linguists call 'open-ended'. >The "Tempest"? As in a teapot? or of the "We are such stuff as dreams are made of"? McEvoy refutes the "p or q" (p v q) by assimliating: >I meant Bob Dylan's "Tempest". For the record, below, _sans_ melodie. The implicatural analysis should be provided by W. O., who also commented on the thread: "The name of the state comes from the name of the river", and the "name of the river", Wikipedia has it, "comes from Messipi -- the French rendering of the Anishinaabe (Ojibwe or Algonquin) name for the river, Misi-ziibi, which, in the vernacular (Anishinaabe, not French) means, "Great (or "Big", or "Long") River (or "Stream", or "Brook"). In addition to historical traditions shown by names, there are at least two other measures of a river's identity, one being the largest branch (by water volume), and the other being the longest branch. Using the largest-branch criterion, the Ohio (not the Middle and Upper Mississippi) would be the main branch of the Lower Mississippi. Using the longest-branch criterion, the Middle Mississippi-Missouri-Jefferson-Beaverhead-Red Rock-Hellroaring CREEK RIVER would be the MAIN branch. According to either school of thought, the Upper Mississippi from Lake Itasca, Minnesota to St. Louis, despite its name, would only be a secondary tributary of the final river flowing from Cairo to the Gulf of Mexico. (As Geary comments, "The idea that a name follows the thing is otiose -- Take 'stanene'. We have a name and yet not the thing". Geary is referring to the technical press recently being excited this week at the implications of an announcement by researchers at the SLAC National Accelerator Laboratory and Stanford University, who predict that a material as yet unmade has high promise for the next generation of computer chips. It’s a two-dimensional single layer of tin atoms, which theory suggests will conduct electricity with 100% efficiency at room temperature. Adding fluorine atoms could keep it working at the temperature of boiling water. It may not have been made yet but it already has a name, stanene, from the Latin for tin, stannum, plus the -ene ending from graphene.). While the Missouri River, flowing from the confluence of the Jefferson, Madison and Gallatin Rivers to the Mississippi, is the longest continuously named river in the United States, the serially named river known sequentially as Hellroaring Creek, Red Rock, Beaverhead, Jefferson, Missouri, Middle Mississippi, and Lower Mississippi, as one continuous waterway, is the longest river in North America and the third or fourth longest river on Earth. Its length of at least 3,745 mi (6,027 km)[citation needed] is exceeded only by the Nile, the Amazon, and perhaps the Yangtze River[7] among the longest rivers in the world. The source of this waterway is at Brower's Spring, 8,800 feet (2,700 m) above sea level in southwestern Montana, along the Continental Divide outside Yellowstone National Park. The Mississippi River is widely considered a convenient if approximate dividing line between the Eastern, Southern, and Midwestern United States and the Western U.S., as exemplified by the Gateway Arch in St. Louis and the phrase "Trans-Mississippi", used for example in the name of the 1898 Trans-Mississippi Exposition held in Omaha, Nebraska. Cheers, Speranza ----- The pale moon rose in its glory Out on the Western town She told a sad, sad story Of the great ship that went down It was the fourteenth day of April Over the waves she rode Sailing into tomorrow To a golden age foretold The night was black with starlight The seas were sharp and clear Moving through the shadows The promised hour was near Lights were holding steady Gliding over the foam All the lords and ladies Heading for their eternal home The chandeliers were swaying From the balustrades above The orchestra was playing Songs of faded love The watchman, he lay dreaming As the ballroom dancers twirled He dreamed the Titanic was sinking Into the underworld Leo took his sketchbook He was often so inclined He closed his eyes and painted The scenery in his mind Cupid struck his bosom And broke it with a snap The closest woman to him He fell into her lap He heard a loud commotion Something sounded wrong His inner spirit was saying That he couldn't stand here long He staggered to the quarterdeck No time now to sleep Water on the quarterdeck Already three foot deep Smokestack was leaning sideways Heavy feet began to pound He walked into the whirlwind Sky splitting all around The ship was going under The universe had opened wide The roll was called up yonder The angels turned aside Lights down in the hallway Flickering dim and dull Dead bodies already floating In the double bottom hull The engines then exploded Propellers they failed to start The boilers overloaded The ship's bow split apart Passengers were flying Backward, forward, far and fast They mumbled, fumbled, and tumbled Each one more weary than the last The veil was torn asunder 'Tween the hours of twelve and one No change, no sudden wonder Could undo what had been done The watchman lay there dreaming At forty five degrees He dreamed that the Titanic was sinking Dropping to her knees Wellington he was sleeping His bed began to slide His valiant heart was beating He pushed the tables aside Glass of shattered crystal Lay scattered roundabout He strapped on both his pistols How long could he hold out? His men and his companions Were nowhere to be seen In silence there he waited for Time and space to intervene The passageway was narrow There was blackness in the air He saw every kind of sorrow Heard voices everywhere Alarm-bells were ringing To hold back the swelling tide Friends and lovers clinging To each other side by side Mothers and their daughters Descending down the stairs Jumped into the icy waters Love and pity sent their prayers The rich man, Mister Astor Kissed his darling wife He had no way of knowing It'd be the last trip of his life Calvin, Blake and Wilson Gambled in the dark Not one of them would ever live to Tell the tale on the disembark Brother rose up 'gainst brother In every circumstance They fought and slaughtered each other In a deadly dance They lowered down the lifeboats From the sinking wreck There were traitors, there were turncoats Broken backs and broken necks The bishop left his cabin To help others in need Turned his eyes up to the heavens Said, "The poor are yours to feed" Davey the brothel-keeper Came out dismissed his girls Saw the water getting deeper Saw the changing of his world Jim Dandy smiled He never learned to swim Saw the little crippled child And he gave his seat to him He saw the starlight shining Streaming from the East Death was on the rampage But his heart was now at peace They battened down the hatches But the hatches wouldn't hold They drowned upon the staircase Of brass and polished gold Leo said to Cleo I think I'm going mad But he'd lost his mind already Whatever mind he had He tried to block the doorway To save all those from harm Blood from an open wound Pouring down his arm Petals fell from flowers 'Til all of them were gone In the long and dreadful hours The wizard's curse played on The host was pouring brandy He was going down slow He stayed right to the end and he Was the last to go There were many, many others Nameless here forever more They never sailed the ocean Or left their homes before The watchman, he lay dreaming The damage had been done He dreamed the Titanic was sinking And he tried to tell someone The captain, barely breathing Kneeling at the wheel Above him and beneath him Fifty thousand tons of steel He looked over at his compass And he gazed into its face Needle pointing downward He knew he'd lost the race In the dark illumination He remembered bygone years He read the Book of Revelation And he filled his cup with tears When the Reaper's task had ended Sixteen hundred had gone to rest The good, the bad, the rich, the poor The loveliest and the best They waited at the landing And they tried to understand But there is no understanding On the judgment of God's hand The news came over the wires And struck with deadly force Love had lost its fires All things had run their course The watchman he lay dreaming Of all the things that can be He dreamed the Titanic was sinking Into the deep blue sea ------------------------------------------------------------------ To change your Lit-Ideas settings (subscribe/unsub, vacation on/off, digest on/off), visit www.andreas.com/faq-lit-ideas.html