Is This About Sex.......?

Surely, we have all heard of the wonderfully talented Emily Dickinson, and, if we have any sense at all, we have read some of her poetry. I have selected one of her more famous pieces and attempted to analyze it, the main reason for such being research paper for English class. However, something curious has appeared to me upon the deeper readings of this poem...

"Because I Could Not Stop For Death"
Emily Dickinson

Because I could not stop for Death,
He kindly stopped for me;
The carriage held but just ourselves
And Immortality.

We slowly drove, he knew no haste,
And I had put away
My labor, and my leisure too,
For his civility.

We passed the school, where children strove
At recess, in the ring;
We passed the fields of gazing grain,
We passed the setting sun.

Or rather, he passed us;
The dews grew quivering and chill,
For only gossamer my gown,
My tippet only tulle.

We paused before a house that seemed
A swelling of the ground;
The roof was scarcely visible,
The cornice but a mound.

Since then 'tis centuries, and yet each
Feels shorter than the day
I first surmised the horses' heads
Were toward eternity.

Now, we immediately realize the wonder of this poem. Upon first glance you encounter the mood of sheer peace and calmness, and next you see that she is taking a journey after her life on earth, and toward a place of immortality, or eternal life. After a closer look, it appears that the death she references in the first stanza is strangely capitalized, as if to refer to a person. So, death is a person.

A male person.

Huh.

Continuing with our analysis of death, we see that it's just her and Death in this carriage.

Interesting.

If we keep going even deeper into the workings of this poem, we look at the way she seems to be referring to death, and we begin to realize that death seems to

be sort of attractive to her, as if she has a little fancy for death. When she says that "they knew no haste," you can assume that they are enjoying themselves.

And what's funner than sex?

Fine, more fun.

What's more fun than sex?

Or, so I've heard.

...

ANYWAYS, moving on, the poem mentions that they "pass the setting sun."

Mood lighting?

Gosh, all they need is some smooth jazz.

Next thing we realize is that she is wearing only a gossamer gown. For those of you who don't know what gossamer is, it is an extremely fine spider silk.

Hmmm...Silk...

Now back to the top.

Remember when I was talking about death being capitalized, therefore he is a person? Well, what about Immortality?

So he's watching.

Kinky.

Now, we reach the part about the horses heads. This can't possibly be about sex.

Wrong again, dear fellow, wrong again.

If we wish to examine the possible meanings of this term, we must first look upon the horses head. Let's look at the shape, shall we?

Notice how the horses head naturally points down.

Need I say more?

And then we come full circle, back to the beginning again.

Keep in mind, I'm not saying this poem is about sex, nor am I in any way bashing Emily Dickinson. She's bitchin. I'm just saying, this is one really fun way to examine poetry.

God, I'm such a man. And I wonder why I don't have a boyfriend.

-Emily Ann

The Objective

So, I have been contemplating about how to make my blog more attractive in the material that I post. I have decided that I should determine my purpose for the blog. As you can see, I have changed the title to The Ambiguity Project, mostly because this blog is just a mash-up of all things interesting, not so much based on a singular purpose or idea. Fellow bloggers, I simply wish to use this blog as a tool to navigate my life, and perhaps as a less intrusive social network. I hope I entertain you all. At least to some degree.

-Emily Ann

PS -- Dickens, I just finished A Tale of Two Cities.

Genius.

Lauren's Bit 1

This is the first installment of a little thing I'd like to call Lauren's Bits, and this is the first post. Lauren is my best friend, and as juvenile as that might sound, it is true. She is an artist. This is something she drew me some time ago, and she has made numerous more since then. I will post them periodically to explain my situational comedy-like life. Enjoy.

-Emily Ann

The Excitement of a First Blog

Hello, fellow bloggers. Upon the creation of my new muse, I soon began to realize that my life and thoughts, in fact, are not the most astonishing of those in the world, and by talking only about myself, I would in fact be boring most of the population who reads me, or thinks about reading me, but then casually casts off the idea in a flurry to rid their lives of the unnecessary. I have been told I write like Dickens. Probably because I"m so fucking wordy all the time. So, if you like Dickens, read this blog. Or, perhaps, if you hate Dickens, read this blog to show that there is someone out there who can write like him, and there, and the concept of being payed by the word (however false it may be; he was payed per installment), is sheer stupidity. Or, perhaps if you are Dickens you should read this blog, because I referenced you.
That's right, Dickens, feel special.

Bazinga.

-Emily Ann