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Up In the Air, Junior Birdsmen!**

** [continue reading…]

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Announcing

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Then and Now We All Need Somebody to Lean ON

Bill Withers, Stevie Wonder, John Legend perform “Lean On Me” at the 2015 Induction Ceremony at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.

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Pay attention It will be on the final in November:

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Essential Americans

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O sweet spontaneous
earth how often have
the
doting
 
             fingers of
prurient philosophers pinched
and
poked
 
thee
,has the naughty thumb
of science prodded
thy
 
        beauty      how
often have religions taken
thee upon their scraggy knees
squeezing and
 
buffeting thee that thou mightest conceive
gods
         (but
true
 
to the incomparable
couch of death thy
rhythmic
lover
 
             thou answerest
 
 
them only with
 
                              spring)

— ee cummings

[Sending this one out to Emma Jean.]

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Life goes on — in many ways better — at The Perfect Vision Plague Diaries #12 by“ Andy Havens   I  won’t see my daughter again until lunchtime, she’s starting school by way of a zoom class in her bedroom right now. The Boy will bounce down the stairs in a few minutes, fully dressed and singing or shouting or throwing things in general jubilation (he is an absolute cliché of boyness, thank God, rarely quiet and always moving). He likes checking emails and doing his own thing and so he’ll more or less get started with his school on his own.

I’ve got 295 days worth now.How Much Toilet Paper Will You Need?! – The Toilet Paper Calculator

7 Historic Dishes Born From Tough Times That You Can Make at Home – Gastro Obscura

China Claims No New Deaths As Peasant Passes By Shouting ‘Bring Out Your Dead!’ |  [continue reading…]

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The Opening of The Waste Land By T. S. Eliot 1922

I. The Burial of the Dead

April is the cruellest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.
Winter kept us warm, covering
Earth in forgetful snow, feeding
A little life with dried tubers.
Summer surprised us, coming over the Starnbergersee
With a shower of rain; we stopped in the colonnade,
And went on in sunlight, into the Hofgarten,
And drank coffee, and talked for an hour.
Bin gar keine Russin, stamm’ aus Litauen, echt deutsch.
And when we were children, staying at the arch-duke’s,
My cousin’s, he took me out on a sled,
And I was frightened. He said, Marie,
Marie, hold on tight. And down we went.
In the mountains, there you feel free.
I read, much of the night, and go south in the winter.

What are the roots that clutch, what branches grow
Out of this stony rubbish? Son of man,
You cannot say, or guess, for you know only
A heap of broken images, where the sun beats,
And the dead tree gives no shelter, the cricket no relief,
And the dry stone no sound of water. Only
There is shadow under this red rock,
(Come in under the shadow of this red rock),
And I will show you something different from either
Your shadow at morning striding behind you
Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you;
I will show you fear in a handful of dust.


NOTE: THE WASTELAND is not a “difficult poem” (see Pound’s CANTOS) but it does require some study and attention. It ain’t a pop song written to be glib. The whole of THE WASTELAND with annotations is AT THIS LOCATION: You click on the links in the poem on the left to see the meaning of the poem’s allusions on the right. It is, as Sherlock Holmes has said, “Simplicity itself.”

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HT: Created by Alexia for Ray and shared with me.

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HT Tom Hyland who notes: “In case you haven’t visited George Carlin lately take this in and reflect…”

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Social Distancing Champion of the Day


And in his honor Yellowstone has created a new poster:

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War Criminal

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Public Service Announcement

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Because Overdue: Some Good News with John Krasinski

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Project Veritas Goes Through a Virus Testing Point

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