“I Take Responsibility”
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from EAST COKER — Eliot
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.
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Beneath the Aegean
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
Your Say
Song of Myself
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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virtue diarrheists, all.
They’re a disgusting lot.
lol
Cellphone video editing app.
As well they should. Systemic dysfunction in the black community is entirely the fault of people like these. Especially the trannies! If only they had a higher opinion of negroes all this trouble would just go away. Good to see they’re finally stepping up to the plate. Now everyone can stop blaming me. Utopia is just around the corner!
JWM
White privilege in a nutshell: being held responsible for the actions of your ancestors by people who take no responsibility for the actions of their children.
Whenever I see these fake sincerity apologies I am reminded of this scene:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZH8RXKLFZ6w
These people are the reason the Lord created the middle finger.
That was freakin’ hilarious. Love the Megan (Meghan? Aw,who cares) and Harry “They’re called Underpants!”. OJ demanding JAIL time for us racists?? Bruce/Caitlyn mouthing anything is too horrible to watch.
Well done, Mr Dunnigan.
Where can I get a pair of those comedy eyeglasses that sad girl is wearing? It’s a girl,right?
Good stuff. Well done mockery is a thing of beauty.
I can’t view this post on Instagram. I am somewhat bummed about this, but I’ll get over it.
Why yes, I take responsibility
for my actions.
I suspect most posting here take responsibility
for their individual actions.
If those witless woke whiners want to take responsibility for actions of the long dead instead, and the actions of others that exist only in their heads, regarding such I’m done with awe, anger amazement and incredulity.
All I’ve got left is laughter and I’m down with that.
You gotta love the white appropriation that blacks enjoy every day. Football and basketball were games originally played by whites….each appropriated and dominated by the NAPA. Straight hair, convertible 2 seat sports cars and SUVs, Jeeps and pickup trucks, same thing. Bow hunting, bass boats, going to the beach to work on a suntan, fraternities and sororities….(one I never understood), all appropriated by blacks.
So far I’ve not seen much black interest in water or snow skiing, yachting, flying sport aircraft, badminton or trap and skeet shooting but I’m sure those white activities will be appropriated sometime in the near future but I embrace high hope that in the interim they’ll bring back and popularize the game of lawn darts.
They appropriate whitey’s ways and in feeble attempts to be original and have a truly black thing they have kwanza, juneteenth and the big shiny rims that jack their cheap, highly polished street rides off of the pavement and additional 12″ or so but those things aren’t popular or even really commented upon by whitey so their existence as a black thing is only so-so within the community.
But, with all of that going on in their attempts to be like whitey, I’m curious why they don’t appropriate the whitey’s views on having too many illegitimate children, making baby-daddies come to the lick-log and be financially and socially responsible for their illegitimates, living for multiple generations on welfare and other government handouts, developing a desire to obtain solid educations and obtaining technical or professional degrees so they can escape the poverty of ‘da hoodt’, reducing levels of domestic violence, violent crime, drug trafficking, black gangs and all of the other far more visible attributes of the black community that don’t exist in any in great degree within white society.
Nah, I don’t take any responsibility for any of their problems. Screw ’em and everything about them.
They’re the common denominator to every single problem they have and the sad, sad thing is that they refuse to see themselves, individually and collectively, as such. It’s always “gimme dis or gimme dat”, whitey’s a racist, I need someone to help me along…….yada, yada, fucking yada.
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At times like this I want to thank Margaret Sanger for trying.