This… at Great Boomer Moments | Western Rifle Shooters Association
Yields this…. in the comments.
Discussion ensues…..
![Ann Barnhardt: This question of homosexuals in art [BUMPED AND UPDATED with commentary from Ann Barnhardt]](https://americandigest.org/wp/wp-content/uploads/2018/06/aaaagaynotgay.jpg "Ann Barnhardt: This question of homosexuals in art [BUMPED AND UPDATED with commentary from Ann Barnhardt]")
The shattered water made a misty din.
Great waves looked over others coming in,
And thought of doing something to the shore
That water never did to land before.
The clouds were low and hairy in the skies,
Like locks blown forward in the gleam of eyes.
You could not tell, and yet it looked as if
The shore was lucky in being backed by cliff,
The cliff in being backed by continent;
It looked as if a night of dark intent
Was coming, and not only a night, an age.
Someone had better be prepared for rage.
There would be more than ocean-water broken
Before God’s last Put out the light was spoken.
— Robert Frost
April is over. May moon.
How many more for my regard,
hundreds, a handful?
Better not trouble the dark water due north of north.
Better to concentrate on something close, something small.
This stick, for instance. This word.
–Charles Wright
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
Gerard Van der Leun
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🙂
Not to mention o’bongo twice.
Because I’m babyfaced, I’ve been assumed to be a Boomy Baber my whole fucking life, despite having been born during the war to a father who didn’t make it back. Spoiled-brat boomers have been making my (and everybody else’s) life miserable since the ’60s when they decided to do the world a favor and treat everybody to their tastes in “music” via the big stereos bought with their parents’ money. Western culture, through their efforts, has assumed the proportions of a swamp for the least common (and I do mean “common”) denominator. Art and literature have descended to the level of grunts and graffiti.
And now I find their execrable spawn taking up space and blaming me for the fact that nobody taught them how to suck their thumbs.
Je suis not amused.
You know I just love blaming your generation for everything Gerard…but “runs USA economy into ground”?
Perhaps, if ALL of the hippies stayed hippies, kept their jaundiced paws clean of corporate taint, worked themselves into their winter years growing their own lettuce and kale and reefer to “stick it to the man,” they *woulda* run the USA economy into the ground. As it is, the hippies that have overrun Timber Cove and Bodega Bay are vacationing from the senior exec positions down in the bay area after having become what they once swore to spend a lifetime hating. And, I notice a lot of them are making good on keeping-on hating what they now are, which is another story…
But this eighties-boom is because of their investments and such. Have to give credit where it’s due.
Didn’t bother to skim & see if someone else has pointed this out already. Probably so. I’m on the road.
“But me, I’m still on the road
Headin’ for another joint
We always did feel the same
We just saw it from a different point of view
Tangled up in blue”
You folks need to come by the house for dinner one of these day….
“The only thing I knew how to do
Was to keep on keepin’on
Like a bird that flew
Tangled up in blue”
Epic, EPIC Aesop comment at the link.
** “You folks need to come by the house for dinner one of these day….” **
Far out man! Dinner! I’ll be there by ten PM if the rides keep up like they have been. I can just sleep on the floor in the living room.
OH, wow man, is your grill big enough for this road kill possum I just found. He was just dead and there was hardly any flies on him and he don’t stink or nothing.
—No, it wasn’t quite that bad but those were some VERY INSTRUCTIVE days! And not all hitchikers were hippies. I did it when I graduated from the SE Asia campus of the School of Hard Knocks mostly to get AWAY from hippies. I KNEW that wasn’t going to turn out well, and 40-45 years later, here we are!