American T-Shirts Done Right!
![Those "Just. Say. No." Shirts. I can do it if I can sell about 100 [Bumped]](https://americandigest.org/wp/wp-content/uploads/2021/11/t-1-150x150.jpg "Those \"Just. Say. No.\" Shirts. I can do it if I can sell about 100 [Bumped]")
![The "JUST SAY NO" T-Shirts: Order Here [BUMPED -- Need to make size estimates]](https://americandigest.org/wp/wp-content/uploads/2021/11/shhirtdonatlon-150x150.jpg "The \"JUST SAY NO\" T-Shirts: Order Here [BUMPED -- Need to make size estimates]")
Even though a cloud’s white curtain in a far-off corner flashed
An’ the hypnotic splattered mist was slowly lifting
Electric light still struck like arrows, fired but for the ones
Condemned to drift or else be kept from drifting
Tolling for the searching ones, on their speechless, seeking trail
For the lonesome-hearted lovers with too personal a tale
An’ for each unharmful, gentle soul misplaced inside a jail
An’ we gazed upon the chimes of freedom flashing
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
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
Reason will not decide at last; the sword will decide.
The sword: an obsolete instrument of bronze or steel,
formerly used to kill men, but here
In the sense of a symbol. The sword: that is: the storms
and counter-storms of general destruction; killing
of men,
Destruction of all goods and materials; massacre, more or
less intentional, of children and women;
Destruction poured down from wings, the air made accomplice,
the innocent air
Perverted into assassin and poisoner.
The sword: that is: treachery and cowardice, incredible
baseness, incredible courage, loyalties, insanities.
The sword: weeping and despair, mass-enslavement,
mass-torture, frustration of all hopes
That starred man’s forehead. Tyranny for freedom, horror for
happiness, famine for bread, carrion for children.
Reason will not decide at last, the sword will decide.
His soul stretched tight across the skies
That fade behind a city block,
Or trampled by insistent feet
At four and five and six o’clock;
And short square fingers stuffing pipes,
And evening newspapers, and eyes
Assured of certain certainties,
The conscience of a blackened street
Impatient to assume the world.
I am moved by fancies that are curled
Around these images, and cling:
The notion of some infinitely gentle
Infinitely suffering thing.
Wipe your hand across your mouth, and laugh;
The worlds revolve like ancient women
Gathering fuel in vacant lots.
— Eliot
The scientists are in terror
and the European mind stops
Wyndham Lewis chose blindness
rather than have his mind stop.
Night under wind mid garofani,
the petals are almost still
Mozart, Linnaeus, Sulmona,
When one’s friends hate each other
how can there be peace in the world?
Their asperities diverted me in my green time.
A blown husk that is finished
but the light sings eternal
a pale flare over marshes
where the salt hay whispers to tide’s change
Time, space,
neither life nor death is the answer.
And of man seeking good,
doing evil.
In meiner Heimat
where the dead walked
and the living were made of cardboard.
Even though a cloud’s white curtain in a far-off corner flashed
An’ the hypnotic splattered mist was slowly lifting
Electric light still struck like arrows, fired but for the ones
Condemned to drift or else be kept from drifting
Tolling for the searching ones, on their speechless, seeking trail
For the lonesome-hearted lovers with too personal a tale
An’ for each unharmful, gentle soul misplaced inside a jail
An’ we gazed upon the chimes of freedom flashing
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
Gerard Van der Leun
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Adult stupidity is exceeded by adult adulteration. We are our own worst self-cannibalizing enemies.
That we shamelessly corrupt our children should
be grounds enough for imprisoning such moral deviants.
Call it what it is, The Old Abnormal.
I have this strange feeling that these people aren’t native english speakers. Reminded me of this, which illustrates the point Howard is making perfectly:
Banned Commercials “Engels Leren?”
Please don’t click, Howard, it’s Dutch.
A co-worker came in with Chinese characters tattooed on his neck. He said it meant “Never Satisfied”. So I copied the text, took it home and looked it up in my Pin Yin dictionary.
Yeah, it was “never satisfied” all right, but not in the “always trying harder” sense he wanted to convey; it actually meant “impossible to please”, with a heavy accent on whining.
I believe some of these photos might be a reversal of that type situation.
Monty, you really know how to suck a guy in. Shame on you! Shame on me the next time I click your link (which I look forward to).
Cultural appropriation, with a side dish of honesty.
Snorting beer out of your nose is painful. I just did both for this post, and the you tube.
The messages in these photos make about as much sense as the insane gobbledygook being taught in Western universities today.
These people are not English speakers. They buy those shirts for the graphics, not knowing what they say of course.
I just received bumper stickers for my cars and truck
“Rope, Lamppost, Politician”
” Some Assembly Required”
“My hovercraft is full of eels.”