Compare and Contrast: Is Trump a “Dictator?” Check out how Putin Rolls
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WHEN in the course of human Events, it becomes necessary….
Welcome to the New American Digest: 2003-2020
Home is where one starts from. As we grow older
The world becomes stranger, the pattern more complicated
Of dead and living. Not the intense moment
Isolated, with no before and after,
But a lifetime burning in every moment
And not the lifetime of one man only
But of old stones that cannot be deciphered.
There is a time for the evening under starlight,
A time for the evening under lamplight
(The evening with the photograph album).
Love is most nearly itself
When here and now cease to matter.
Old men ought to be explorers
Here or there does not matter
We must be still and still moving
Into another intensity
For a further union, a deeper communion
Through the dark cold and the empty desolation,
The wave cry, the wind cry, the vast waters
Of the petrel and the porpoise. In my end is my beginning.
Gerard Van der Leun
When all Earth’s seas shall Levitate,
Dark shawled within the skies,
Upon our eyes will Starfish dance
Their waltz of Blind surprise.
The sun will Rise within wine Dark
As Argonauts imbibed,
Whose drunken arms embrace that sleep
Where Phaeton’s horses Stride.
Upon all of Earth’s wind-sanded shores,
As dolphins Learn to soar,
All we once were on the land
Shall be sealed behind the door
Of Ivory and Chastened Gold,
That the Mystery solved complete
Shall never til the seas’ Long fall
Wake mariners from their sleep.
— Van der Leun
I CELEBRATE myself, and sing myself,
And what I assume you shall assume,
For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.
I loafe and invite my soul,
I lean and loafe at my ease observing a spear of summer grass.
My tongue, every atom of my blood, form’d from this soil, this
air,
Born here of parents born here from parents the same, and their
parents the same,
I, now thirty-seven years old in perfect health begin,
Hoping to cease not till death.
— Walt Whitman
Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?
I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.
I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.
I do not think that they will sing to me.
I have seen them riding seaward on the waves
Combing the white hair of the waves blown back
When the wind blows the water white and black.
We have lingered in the chambers of the sea
By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown
Till human voices wake us, and we drown.
— The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock by T. S. Eliot
Comments on this entry are closed.
Did I hear, “got myself a gun, got myself a gun” at the end of this video? I am over 50% hearing loss and have been thinking I heard words the speaker did not actually speak.
Maybe I can find the lyrics to this “song” if I do a search.
Not realistic. Not a single bikini babe to be seen anywhere on the grounds
excellent
Putin puttin’ on the dog.
Putin needs the cavalry unit of the Garde Republicaine for the full dramatic effect: The French have better uniforms and brassier music. From this year’s Bastille Day observance:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wPn1RDQZwKQ&ab_channel=QuentinBiscarrat
Putin has sleek quiet BMW’s for his escort. Trump has Harleys. He ought to order straight pipes for all his Hog Ridin’ Fools.
(extra points for the obscure allusion)
JWM
comment ozone’d again
JWM
Terry,
The music is the theme song to the Sopranos…..pretty sure, if that helps, and yes,
“Woke up this morning and got myself a gun.”
My dear jwm, I got your “obscure” S. Clay Wilson reference.
ZAP!
I don’t know Gerard, he didn’t serve anyone radioactive tea, and he didn’t ask for a list of people to kill today.
He’s gone soft. 😒
Trudat, nmack. The people Trump kills are anonymous, and die fighting for breath.
It is good to be king. I personally like what he like Trump does as well. Not necessarily that I like the men but everything they do shows they love their countries.
He acts like a boss. The song fits. Autocrats gotta autocrat.
Now, let’s do Trump. Let’s see if the song fits him as well.
When you got it, flaunt it
Step right up and strut your stuff….
Was Putin on the way to church? As the viewpoint pans around the church-filled plaza, is that an outdoor assembly in the background? Did anyone else see that?
You heard right. Here you go, Terry.
Woke Up This Morning
Alabama 3
Well, you woke up this morning
Got yourself a gun
Your mama always said you’d be the chosen one
She said, you’re one in a million, you’ve got to burn to shine
But you were born under a bad sign with a blue moon in your eyes
And you woke up this morning
All that love had gone
Your papa never told you about right and wrong
But you’re looking good, baby
I believe you’re feeling fine (shame about it)
Born under a bad sign with a blue moon in your eyes
Because you woke up this morning
Got a blue moon in your eyes
Woke up this morning
You got a blue moon in your eyes
Well, you woke up this morning
The world turned upside down
Lord above, thing’s ain’t been the same since Howlin’ Wolf walked into your town
But you’re one in a million, you’ve got that shotgun shine
Born under a bad sign with a blue moon in your eyes
You woke up this morning
You got a blue moon in your eyes
Woke up this morning
You got a blue moon in your eyes
When you woke up this morning everything was gone
By half past ten your head was going ding-dong
Ringing like a bell from your head down to your toes,
Like a voice trying to tell you there’s something you should know
Last night you were flying but today you’re so low
Ain’t it times like these that make you wonder if you’ll ever know
The meaning of things as they appear to the others
Wives, mothers, fathers, sisters and brothers
Don’t you wish you didn’t function, don’t you wish you didn’t think beyond the next paycheck
And the next little drink?
Well, you do, so make up your mind to go on ’cause when you woke up this morning
Everything you had was gone, everything you had was gone
Woke up this morning
Woke up this morning
Woke up this morning, you want to be, you want to be the chosen one tonight
Yes, you know, because you just get help yourself
Woke up this morning
Woke up this morning
Woke up this morning
You got yourself a gun, got yourself a gun, got yourself a gun
Putin’s more sophisticated nowadays, he’s mimicking Don Draper’s walk and mannerisms, including the chin-thumb touch.
https://youtu.be/YocBfe1N598 (fast forward to :50 seconds)
“Putin’ On The Ritz” is his real theme song.
Crimea river. Crimea river over you…
Oh, I forgot. Ain’t anymore Crimea.
Georgia. Georgia…the whooooole night through.
Oh yeh, half of Georgia’s toast.
Let’s see…looks for songs about Finland and the Baltics…any suggestions? I heard it through the grapevine…not much longer you won’t be mine, honey, honey yeahhhhh