Two types of people. This guy, and the people who aren't this guy pic.twitter.com/rSDdar7Jf7
— Adam Townsend (@adamscrabble) April 11, 2020
Two types of people. This guy, and the people who aren't this guy pic.twitter.com/rSDdar7Jf7
— Adam Townsend (@adamscrabble) April 11, 2020
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Address for Donations, Complaints, Brickbats, and — oh yes — Donations
In Memory Of W.B. Yeats
Intellectual disgrace
Stares from every human face,
And the seas of pity lie
Locked and frozen in each eye.
Follow, poet, follow right
To the bottom of the night,
With your unconstraining voice
Still persuade us to rejoice.
With the farming of a verse
Make a vineyard of the curse,
Sing of human unsuccess
In a rapture of distress.
In the deserts of the heart
Let the healing fountains start,
In the prison of his days
Teach the free man how to praise.
– – WH Auden
from “1054 AD”
Sometimes it seems I had a dream, and, as a dreamer woke immersed in mineral baths closed within a cool, dark chamber fed by streams flowing in from the center of nowhere.
Hanging from the granite ceiling a kerosene lantern cast shards of light through the pale steam rising from the surface of the pools.
Ripples radiated outwards from the edges of my body and tapping faintly on the rock revealed the edges of the chamber.
Outside I could hear the wind slide across the spine of the mountains, speaking in a language that I remembered but could no longer understand.
Steam filled my nostrils and heat penetrated my bones until, after a time, I had no body, only a sense of silence and distance and calm.
As if I had just woken from all water into dream.
— Tassajara Zen Mountain Center, 1973
Your Say
My Thinking Hat
My Back Pages
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Search American Digest’s Back Pages
The People Yes
The steel mill sky is alive.
The fire breaks white and zigzag
shot on a gun-metal gloaming.
Man is a long time coming.
Man will yet win.
Brother may yet line up with brother:
This old anvil laughs at many broken hammers.
There are men who can’t be bought.
The fireborn are at home in fire.
The stars make no noise,
You can’t hinder the wind from blowing.
Time is a great teacher.
Who can live without hope?
In the darkness with a great bundle of grief
the people march.
In the night, and overhead a shovel of stars for keeps, the people
march:
“Where to? what next?”
— Carl Sandberg
Camouflage
Sourdough Mountain Lookout
Down valley a smoke haze
Three days heat, after five days rain
Pitch glows on the fir-cones
Across rocks and meadows
Swarms of new flies.
I cannot remember things I once read
A few friends, but they are in cities.
Drinking cold snow-water from a tin cup
Looking down for miles
Through high still air.
BY GARY SNYDER
Chimes of Freedom
Starry-eyed an’ laughing as I recall when we were caught
Trapped by no track of hours for they hanged suspended
As we listened one last time an’ we watched with one last look
Spellbound an’ swallowed ’til the tolling ended
Tolling for the aching ones whose wounds cannot be nursed
For the countless confused, accused, misused, strung-out ones an’ worse
An’ for every hung-up person in the whole wide universe
An’ we gazed upon the chimes of freedom flashing
The Vault
My Back Pages
Byzantium
That is no country for old men. The young
In one another’s arms, birds in the trees
—Those dying generations—at their song,
The salmon-falls, the mackerel-crowded seas,
Fish, flesh, or fowl, commend all summer long
Whatever is begotten, born, and dies.
Caught in that sensual music all neglect
Monuments of unageing intellect.
An aged man is but a paltry thing,
A tattered coat upon a stick, unless
Soul clap its hands and sing, and louder sing
For every tatter in its mortal dress,
Nor is there singing school but studying
Monuments of its own magnificence;
And therefore I have sailed the seas and come
To the holy city of Byzantium.
O sages standing in God’s holy fire
As in the gold mosaic of a wall,
Come from the holy fire, perne in a gyre,
And be the singing-masters of my soul.
Consume my heart away; sick with desire
And fastened to a dying animal
It knows not what it is; and gather me
Into the artifice of eternity.
Once out of nature I shall never take
My bodily form from any natural thing,
But such a form as Grecian goldsmiths make
Of hammered gold and gold enamelling
To keep a drowsy Emperor awake;
Or set upon a golden bough to sing
To lords and ladies of Byzantium
Of what is past, or passing, or to come.
– – W. B. Yeats, 1865 – 1939
De Breanski
VAN GOGH
Hillegas
To the Stonecutters
Stone-cutters fighting time with marble, you foredefeated
Challengers of oblivion
Eat cynical earnings, knowing rock splits, records fall down,
The square-limbed Roman letters
Scale in the thaws, wear in the rain. The poet as well
Builds his monument mockingly;
For man will be blotted out, the blithe earth die, the brave sun
Die blind and blacken to the heart:
Yet stones have stood for a thousand years, and pained
thoughts found
The honey of peace in old poems.
— Robinson Jeffers
Real World Address for Donations, Mash Notes and Hate Mail
from “1054 AD”
Sometimes it seems I had a dream, and, as a dreamer woke immersed in mineral baths closed within a cool, dark chamber fed by streams flowing in from the center of nowhere.
Hanging from the granite ceiling a kerosene lantern cast shards of light through the pale steam rising from the surface of the pools.
Ripples radiated outwards from the edges of my body and tapping faintly on the rock revealed the edges of the chamber.
Outside I could hear the wind slide across the spine of the mountains, speaking in a language that I remembered but could no longer understand.
Steam filled my nostrils and heat penetrated my bones until, after a time, I had no body, only a sense of silence and distance and calm.
As if I had just woken from all water into dream.
— Tassajara Zen Mountain Center, 1973
Comments on this entry are closed.
“There’s too much information out there!”, and most of it is bullshit.
To a hammer, everything is a nail.
To an epidemiologist everything is a plague.
Happy Easter, everyone.
Funny.
Happy Easter good souls.
My comment is that the pro epidemiologists (hey I spelled it right first time!) aren’t doing much better. Some of them are so full of it, they have become armchair bureaucrats themselves. God help us.
This is so true. None of those people in NY City are dead, right?
Anon, I guess you’re trying to exaggerate to illustrate a point.
What is bothersome is the extremes of the models and the decisions taken. The politicking (like the
Drudge headline now about “Fauci Unloads,” which is complete bullshit it didn’t happen. He was pressed in CNN on a hypothetical and he carefully answered it without any recrimination of Trump. FFS the point could’ve been to say if we’d closed to China let’s say before the outbreak what would’ve happened? Media and political operators are running crazy now, and we are all on edge because we can’t get the news.
On point: the models are poor, and I note the key one supposedly came out of the UW, which is a freakhole of the first order. The actual numbers are lower by a longways than the models used; I would like to see a side by side vis the common flu last year at the same time. It may seriously be close.
Further, if you go into the hospital with a gunshot sucking chest wound, and a dry cough, it is entered as a Coronavirus death. Bill Gates wants to mark you like the Beast would, and subtly drops how this is a great time to cull the surplus masses of the world. Filthy people! I once had his life in my hands, BTW. Regrets…
OK, I exaggerate, too. NYC looks bad, and I am not denying the pandemic is a thing. I am just looking in detail as best I can at the responses. Some of the government stuff looks Machiavellian. Make that Draconian. I like the stories of how libs are buying guns in huge numbers, and are finding out the laws their politicians have made to restrict their access to their 2A rights are onerous. Dumshitz.
I am staying in. My guns are all loaded and not locked up (I deny what I just wrote it is of course against the law.ahem) figuratively speaking. No one comes to my door. My freezer is full of venison, and in a couple of days it is legal to harvest a couple of turkeys.
Doctors have a God Complex. Gubmint leaders think they are immune from constitutional restrictions. News media are lying sacxofsh!t. Liberals are retarded in the Nth degree.
Sadly there are 2 types of people; that guy and all of the other folks in the world that are like that guy, excepting me, and maybe you. &, of course, I’m not so sure about you. 😉
Casey, I saw evidence of Bill Gates’ desire to take steps to reduce world populations and I thought, yeah, just like Ghost advised…be on the lookout for the turds who stand to make money off of human peril because they’ll float to the top. He was dead right.
Gates has money and presumably a lot of power but he is essentially a cowardly fk without the balls to walk up to anything greater than a 10 year old child and present his desires for human population control. At least not while the kids’s protector is standing around to use his head for a mop and his butt for a broom. Gates wouldn’t last 5 seconds with some of the chaps I know and his odds might only be slightly greater from a 70 year old arthritic, like me.
He’s not one shit different from every other oligarchical illuminati minded maggot and if American’s ever wake the fuck up and realize what is going on, the bombing of Dresden will look like puppy poop compared to what enraged American men will do to these guys.
Casey sed: “…in a couple of days it is legal to harvest a couple of turkeys.”
============
As if. LOL
I’m pretty certain you’ll use turkeys as you see fit, regardless of tyrants, just like any sane person would. Saw a few turkeys out back a few days ago. I won’t hurt them. As long as buy-able grub is available.