HT: Abegail Adams
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
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Yes indeed… these masks are so stupid. Every masked individual will roll up the sleeve for the vaccine. And those people will expire… maybe not immediately…. but those will be the first to expire. Did you see the 60 Minutes video examining the swine flu hoax of 1976? This is Mike Wallace in vicious attack mode. Making a conniving health official, sporting a really bad comb-over, sweat and squirm where he sat. Amazing how TV journalism can’t touch this stuff.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=67LMv17Kaic&feature=youtu.be
CNN wouldn’t air it, hunh?
Trump should peel off a few million of his favorite legal tenders, hand them to me and say, “Fire up my brand new global media source ‘TDS’, “Trump Derangement Syndrome” as soon as possible. It would provide all the media functions worldwide in a TRUTHFUL manner. Truth above all else. Period.
I would hire the top 12 media news persons in the community at a starting salary of $1,000,000 per year with performance bonuses paid on Christmas Day. Each of the media personnel would be required to sign a contract up front to loyalty to TDS and the first offense would be the last, in that, they would be fired, receive massive public scorn, all of their assets confiscated, and permanent banishment from the fruited plain, no exceptions.
Within 3 months of TDS storming the airwaves all of the other media sources would be reduced to smoking hulks of despair. I would collect no consideration for this deployment as I would believe it to be a service to my planet in the effort to banish tyranny worldwide. “Truthful information is always mightier than the sword.” That would be my epitaph.
Silly ghostsniper, Truth is for wingnuts!