Advice For The People Running Biden
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Previous post: Something Wonderful: Homemade Helicopter by 102 year old Boeing Engineer
Address for Donations, Complaints, Brickbats, and — oh yes — Donations
My Back Pages
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
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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.
…”the impression that he’s not speaking his own thoughts from his own mind.” What mind?
J.P. is mildly amusing, but I’m just not finding the humor in the willful destruction of our country by a half-wit political hack, who bullshitted his way through life, and oh yeah, he didn’t win.
I refer to the current occupant of the White House (is it okay to say White House anymore?) as the current Resident and his sidekick as the Vice Resident. There is nothing amusing about them.
+1
I’m upset that Joe shit on the White House floor and bit a staffer, and they’re blaming the poor dog!
Didn’t watch it. The dood in the picture is annoying.
I’m with Kevin, I can’t find any humor in anything communist.
Cept maybe, if it was on fire and dragged, while bystanders shot bullets and arrows at is as it bounced by. That might raise a ghostly chuckle.
the cat’s got weird hair.
as cited by others I don’t find any of it humorous.
I’ll iterate from another site-
“This kabuki will be dropped soon, I don’t know why they bother with it now- the government has been seized and a pinheaded outlaw placed atop it, the military is being woked, the borders are breached.
Payback for having a people and constitution that stood in the way of globalism.”
Riffing off of gwbnyc,
Russia will soon initiate a Ukraine adventure, maybe chase us out of Syria also. At pretty much the same time, China will re-annex Taiwan. It’s likely that the Persians will seize the day and do something spectacular.
The United States will do …. nothing. The Fraudulent is a meat puppet, his puppet handlers are ideological morons, and our hollow military is incapable of engaging in three overseas adventure. And no one in this country has the stomach for it.
Our time is over being the world’s policeman. You’re on your own, TaiwanJapanUkraineIsrael, you’re not our problem anymore. We’re busy having a nervous breakdown and we don’t really care what happens outside our borders anymore. We don’t care much about our borders either.
We’ve backed ourselves into a mess, we have.
John A Fleming sed: “We’ve backed ourselves into a mess, we have.”
========
Some have, some haven’t.
All must pay attention.
There are producers and there are parasites and many ride in between.
Stay the course, I say, for yourself.
You can’t change others but through example, but you can change yourself, instantly.
So keep producing, keep bettering yourself, keep moving forward, and try your best to ignore others and lessen their impact upon you.
Country?
Where.
There is no national allegiance because there is no nation, just one big free for all.
This place, defined by imaginary lines on a globe, is mostly illusory and bogus.
Local, local, local.
Your sphere of influence, both ways, decreases as radius increases.
They, way over there, have little influence over you nor should you let them distract you from your goals.
That old phrase is still true, “Do the right thing.”
Peace, Onward.
Uncle Jefe for the win!!! Wish I would have thought of that one.
Mr. Fleming, Taiwan is screwed. Japanese will put up a protracted fight, and we won’t let them go without jumping in. Israel is like a rabid badger when threatened, which is all the time, and they can handle themselves. Don’t screw with God’s chosen people.
Taiwan and Israel can probably stand on their own, at least for longer than some would guess.
Taiwan destroyed is of no use to China, if they didn’t have nukes before they started assembling them the day Xiden got non-elected.
Israel is in a much better place today, in part thanks to President Trump, most of it’s neighbors are finding that working with Israel and against their common enemies beats getting the crap kicked out of their military every decade or so.
China is going to be busy looting the former Republic of the USA for a long time. Russia must be jealous, they should have offered more for Biden in the draft.
I am still trying to decide which T to buy. I guess I’ll have to buy them all as I don’t wanta run ’round nakid. LOL. Too bad this ad didn’t run during the stuper bowl. The election outcome mighta been different.
Ridicule is a good tactic. Many are fine with a dementia patient as President in Name Only as long as Trump wasn’t POTUS. Others may be under the illusion that PINO is competent and need to be made fun of. The question: who is really in charge? needs constantly to be asked.
This didn’t start in 2021.
I wouldn’t trade Biden for Trump. One thing you can say for woke, nobody gets to remain asleep.
Let’s lose this whole “woke” thing. It’s retarded. And, like everything else about communists, it’s a fucking lie. This rotten cancer is anything but woke. Braindead.
Ghost- I AGREE!
I actually cringe when I hear the term. Or cuss.
Let me know if you’d like one of my new tee shirts I’ve printed up- they say;
CHOKE
the
WOKE
’til they
CROAK
ghost;
We’re tracking. The only good use of “woke” is exemplified by Kurt Schlichter when he points out that real conservatives will no longer tolerate RINO’s, nor let granny winebox’s minions off the hook.