On the next episode of Curb Your Enthusiasm… pic.twitter.com/WMO6bLx5T5
— Dave Rubin (@RubinReport) January 13, 2022
“Thank you for taking the time. . . .”
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
If he were a decent man it would be sad. He is not. The man is a liar, a crook, and an incompetent phony. Something in his nasty little gut must whisper this truth: ” I do not belong here. I do not deserve this position. I am in this office as a result of criminal fraud. My place in history will be a cramped apartment of unending disgrace.”
Or maybe there’s nothing down in that gut at all. No whisper. No voice.
There are such beings.
JWM
Dead-on comment, John. I’m betting on the last two lines.
First – and most importantly – that golem is there only as a result of massive voter fraud. My personal belief is, that perhaps as much as 60% of the electorate knew very well what they were hearing and seeing, every time the creature opened its maw.
Second, our culture has been successfully dumbed-down to the lowest common denominator, and people have been taught to be helpless. As such, too many “adult” children have decided that being responsible for themselves is too difficult. They’ve chosen, instead, to let Mommy and Daddy government take care of them. Recall, for example, the DogEater’s “Julia” campaign commercials. For these folks it makes not the slightest difference who’s running, or for whom they’re going to vote, as long as the candidate has a “D” after their name.
Just keep muh buffalo wings and sportsball comin’ and I’ll vote for you forever. Sheep.
I see it. You see it. Jill Biden sees it. Putin sees it. Xi Jinping sees it. The Democrats see it. The Republicans see it. Any rando ditch digger in North Dakota sees it. We all see it. And what’s to be done about it? Why, absolutely nothing. All parties have agreed to let this madness play out.
Biden’s crazed mental state and bizarre speech and antics are not unique. Charles VI of France (1368 – 1422) thought he was made of glass:
“Sometimes he thought he was made of glass and would not let himself be touched. He had iron rods put into his clothing and protected himself in all sorts of ways so that he might not fall and break.”
Philip V of Spain (1700 – 1744) thought he was a frog. Otto of Bavaria (1848 – 1916) had long conversations with imaginary people. Christian VII of Denmark (1749 – 1808) frequently masturbated in public—Biden’s likely fate.
On with the show.
You are right and we all see it. That damned old fool Biden could try to wank in public or remove his soiled Depends, wrap it around his stupid face and sing “It’s My Party” and his party would call it normal.
If Biden begins to regularly masturbate in public, immediately his Praetorian media would leap to his defense. You would see story after story extolling the benefits of public masturbation. After all, Jeffrey Toobin provided the precedent. There would be panels of “experts”—let’s not ask how they became such—on tv saying that public masturbation helps the economy. You would have tame “Christian” pastors claiming that public masturbation is not against the Bible and should be encouraged. And so on.
We are just in “interesting” times, we are in very odd, demented, malformed and twisted-off times.
Sounds like a contest between some one who can carry on a coherent conversation and someone who can’t even spell their name.
I do not know what the expressions fleeting across Biden’s face as reporters shout questions at him indicate in that video, whether it is the emptiness JWM refers to, or, a complete lack of comprehension of where he is at and what he is supposed to be doing. He is a shell of a man.
I agree that he is a shell of a man. His interior is now occupied by some evil entity, an entity that when an exorcism is performed, the only thing left will be a pile of dust. There will not even be a hearty hi-ho silver. Just a pile of dust.
They poor guy has dementia; he’s dying of it. Save your wroth for that prick, Obama, who is behind this mess.
No worries. I have more than enough wrath for both. Joe Biden is a “poor guy” simply because he has dementia? How many lives—including those of little kids—has this “poor guy” ruined? How much has he damaged the nation that gave him birth? How much more damage can this “poor guy” inflict before his leap into Hell? Truly, America and the world would have been far better off had that “poor guy” never been born. He is now reaping what he spent a lifetime sowing. Worms from the Underworld are devouring his mind and soul, and he knows it. Poor guy!
And as for the “Light-Bringer” known as Obama: Don’t get me started.