Then what is the answer?– Not to be deluded by dreams.
To know that great civilizations have broken down into violence,
and their tyrants come, many times before.
When open violence appears, to avoid it with honor or choose
the least ugly faction; these evils are essential.
To keep one’s own integrity, be merciful and uncorrupted
and not wish for evil; and not be duped
By dreams of universal justice or happiness. These dreams will
not be fulfilled.
To know this, and know that however ugly the parts appear
the whole remains beautiful. A severed hand
Is an ugly thing and man dissevered from the earth and stars
and his history… for contemplation or in fact…
Often appears atrociously ugly. Integrity is wholeness,
the greatest beauty is
Organic wholeness, the wholeness of life and things, the divine beauty
of the universe. Love that, not man
Apart from that, or else you will share man’s pitiful confusions,
or drown in despair when his days darken.
— Robinson Jeffers
There is a place where the sidewalk ends
And before the street begins,
And there the grass grows soft and white,
And there the sun burns crimson bright,
And there the moon-bird rests from his flight
To cool in the peppermint wind.
Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black
And the dark street winds and bends.
Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And watch where the chalk-white arrows go
To the place where the sidewalk ends.
Yes we’ll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And we’ll go where the chalk-white arrows go,
For the children, they mark, and the children, they know
The place where the sidewalk ends.
by Shel Silverstein
Comments on this entry are closed.
Enjoy your well-deserved Sunday evening off.
Many thanks for what you do here, Gerard.
Your work makes all of our lives a little better.
JWM
Slacker you are. The Webb has first shots up.
Hope all is well, talk to you soon Mr. V.
Love G. and J.
Blessings from a long time pest…lol.
OMG! You cannot for one moment think about quitting. You work is read by far more people than you realize. People, who do not sign in, or write comments. Lurkers you might call them–I believe most of them are decent people and they find comfort in your work, your thoughts, and your ongoing willingness to make so many good things available in one place. I don’t know if you can see how many are out there–it does not matter. You just need to accept that there are many! We need you –probably more than any woman in your life ever has! The very hardest of times are coming soon and your work will help us to do what is right and to be strong.
Looks like Paradise to me … being a Bidwell descendant and all ;>}
When I was your age we didn’t complain about working 12 hours a day,7 days a week. We were grateful for the opportunity, also we had no shoes and were covered in shit.
The opening page to Gab this morning is a column of videos and memes focussed upon the Biden crime family, the WEF, the Dutch uprising, and several other situations of interest. Great stuff here. Take a look. https://gab.com/
So glad your are taking a day of rest, Gerard, and
filling it with the things that are important. Thank you
for letting us know too since we would worry about your
absence as we do about all our loved ones.
Breathe deep the gathering gloom,
Watch lights fade from every room.
Bedsitter people look back and lament,
Another day’s useless energy spent.
Impassioned lovers wrestle as one.
Lonely man cries for love and has none.
New mother picks up and suckles her son.
Senior citizens wish they were young.
Cold-hearted orb that rules the night
Removes the colours from our sight.
Red is grey and yellow white,
But we decide which is right
And which is an illusion.
–Mike Pinder, 1967
Catch and Release is where it’s at.
Any day on the river is a good day.
I forgot to tell you that it is absolutely right for you to take a break–maybe even a weekly day off?
Good on you. Now make it a habit to take Sundays off. We’ll still be here when Monday rolls around.
+1 to Anne’s comments. Long-time lurker here and I stop by daily.
Rest my friend. You have been posting up a storm lately. Thanx.
As you were, brother.
Pace yourself.
We cant afford to lose you. You fight.
Take whatever time you need, because we need you rested and ready.
On a recreational note, I went to Elvis last night. Very enjoyable, with some rather interesting technology and visual devices. They certainly respected the music, and The Man.
“…rest of the day off”?!
Talk about white privilege.
We were so poor that we couldn’t take the rest of ANY day off.
We worked 60 hour days, 12 days a week, 567 days a year.
And we LIKED it.
Lightweights.
We did that shit for 11 centuries, and still.
Got no time to die!
Dyin’s for pisswilly’s.
Luxury. We used to have to get out of the lake at three o’clock in the morning, clean the lake, eat a handful of hot gravel, go to work at the mill every day for a dime a month, come home, and Dad would beat us around the head and neck with a broken bottle if we were LUCKY!
Later we used to have to get up out of the shoebox at twelve o’clock at night and LICK the road clean with our tongues. We had half a handful of freezing cold gravel, worked twenty-four hours a day at the mill for a nickel every six years, and when we got home, our Dad would slice us in two with a bread knife.
…and the trouble with the youth nowadays is they’ll never believe you.
Ha! You were coddled.
We would walk home uphill for 30 miles under the snow, wearing only a top hat.
We lived in an empty beer can.
Dad beat us with a tree and then tore us limb from limb between two horses.
Oh, for those halcyon days!
Years ago….seems like every damned thing in my life today was “years ago”….I used to take an occasional canoe trip down the Illinois River in NE Oklahoma. It was always best to go during the middle of the week to stay away from the drunk and rowdy rednecks who swarmed that charming stream on the weekends.
That river winds through a lot of rock and outcroppings that look very much like that shown above and I remember remembering that I could feel the sacredness of that river when out there alone with my lunch, a paddle and fly rod.
All of that beauty has changed now of course. Too damned many people, too many chicken houses whose effluent trickles off of hillsides and throws the river’s nitrogen levels into despair. And worst of all, there are just too many damned people who have no regard for anything, not even themselves.
I grew up in the Deep South behind good pointers and setters and there were lots of bobwhites. My grandfather taught me to shoot long before commercial farming ruined quail habit. He also taught me how to use a fly rod and how to clobber the bream and bass by slipping along quietly in a tiny aluminum flat bottom boat years before running up and down a lake in a high speed “bass boat” became the way to “fish. And, he taught me to understand and manage horses long before private ownership of huge tracts of land and individual mini farms fenced off all of the property over which we used to ride. He taught me a lot of other things too, too many to list here.
It’s most important to inhale love and exhale gratitude and my hope, no matter how this site goes, that you enjoy every minute of your time.
The rocks and outcrop yes but that forest cover is not northeast Oklahoma. I still fish the Illinois with a fly rod. Different rod and set up for trout vs stripers
Is that a european elk? ——————–>
I believe it is. Good call.
Very nice piece Jack!! I am an owner of a piece of land in “that” river valley. We battle the issues of overcrowding every day. The time will have to come soon when Republicans and Conservatives give voice to protecting our “sacred” spaces. A voice as loud as that of the environmentalist. A voice that will acknowledge that not all land must be developed–some not even by a little bit. A voice that acknowledges city developers have an obligation to develop large swaths of their profit to the development of local parks–which substantially reduces the impact of weekend tourists on that beauty which every human being in the world has a right to know “is there” and to dream that someday they too will get to see it, to feel it, and to hold it in their heart’s memory when they return to their small condo unit in the city.