” I am recovering at home and suffered a skull fracture. Thank you for your prayers and wishes!”
Really? What part of “God is not mocked” did you fail to understand?
[HT: Sniper]
” I am recovering at home and suffered a skull fracture. Thank you for your prayers and wishes!”
Really? What part of “God is not mocked” did you fail to understand?
[HT: Sniper]
Address for Donations, Complaints, Brickbats, and — oh yes — Donations
My Back Pages
In Memory Of W.B. Yeats
Intellectual disgrace
Stares from every human face,
And the seas of pity lie
Locked and frozen in each eye.
Follow, poet, follow right
To the bottom of the night,
With your unconstraining voice
Still persuade us to rejoice.
With the farming of a verse
Make a vineyard of the curse,
Sing of human unsuccess
In a rapture of distress.
In the deserts of the heart
Let the healing fountains start,
In the prison of his days
Teach the free man how to praise.
– – WH Auden
from “1054 AD”
Sometimes it seems I had a dream, and, as a dreamer woke immersed in mineral baths closed within a cool, dark chamber fed by streams flowing in from the center of nowhere.
Hanging from the granite ceiling a kerosene lantern cast shards of light through the pale steam rising from the surface of the pools.
Ripples radiated outwards from the edges of my body and tapping faintly on the rock revealed the edges of the chamber.
Outside I could hear the wind slide across the spine of the mountains, speaking in a language that I remembered but could no longer understand.
Steam filled my nostrils and heat penetrated my bones until, after a time, I had no body, only a sense of silence and distance and calm.
As if I had just woken from all water into dream.
— Tassajara Zen Mountain Center, 1973
Your Say
My Thinking Hat
FSA/8d22000/8d224008d22491a.tif
Search American Digest’s Back Pages
The People Yes
The steel mill sky is alive.
The fire breaks white and zigzag
shot on a gun-metal gloaming.
Man is a long time coming.
Man will yet win.
Brother may yet line up with brother:
This old anvil laughs at many broken hammers.
There are men who can’t be bought.
The fireborn are at home in fire.
The stars make no noise,
You can’t hinder the wind from blowing.
Time is a great teacher.
Who can live without hope?
In the darkness with a great bundle of grief
the people march.
In the night, and overhead a shovel of stars for keeps, the people
march:
“Where to? what next?”
— Carl Sandberg
Camouflage
Sourdough Mountain Lookout
Down valley a smoke haze
Three days heat, after five days rain
Pitch glows on the fir-cones
Across rocks and meadows
Swarms of new flies.
I cannot remember things I once read
A few friends, but they are in cities.
Drinking cold snow-water from a tin cup
Looking down for miles
Through high still air.
BY GARY SNYDER
Chimes of Freedom
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
The Vault
My Back Pages
Byzantium
That is no country for old men. The young
In one another’s arms, birds in the trees
—Those dying generations—at their song,
The salmon-falls, the mackerel-crowded seas,
Fish, flesh, or fowl, commend all summer long
Whatever is begotten, born, and dies.
Caught in that sensual music all neglect
Monuments of unageing intellect.
An aged man is but a paltry thing,
A tattered coat upon a stick, unless
Soul clap its hands and sing, and louder sing
For every tatter in its mortal dress,
Nor is there singing school but studying
Monuments of its own magnificence;
And therefore I have sailed the seas and come
To the holy city of Byzantium.
O sages standing in God’s holy fire
As in the gold mosaic of a wall,
Come from the holy fire, perne in a gyre,
And be the singing-masters of my soul.
Consume my heart away; sick with desire
And fastened to a dying animal
It knows not what it is; and gather me
Into the artifice of eternity.
Once out of nature I shall never take
My bodily form from any natural thing,
But such a form as Grecian goldsmiths make
Of hammered gold and gold enamelling
To keep a drowsy Emperor awake;
Or set upon a golden bough to sing
To lords and ladies of Byzantium
Of what is past, or passing, or to come.
– – W. B. Yeats, 1865 – 1939
De Breanski
VAN GOGH
Hillegas
To the Stonecutters
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
Real World Address for Donations, Mash Notes and Hate Mail
from “1054 AD”
Sometimes it seems I had a dream, and, as a dreamer woke immersed in mineral baths closed within a cool, dark chamber fed by streams flowing in from the center of nowhere.
Hanging from the granite ceiling a kerosene lantern cast shards of light through the pale steam rising from the surface of the pools.
Ripples radiated outwards from the edges of my body and tapping faintly on the rock revealed the edges of the chamber.
Outside I could hear the wind slide across the spine of the mountains, speaking in a language that I remembered but could no longer understand.
Steam filled my nostrils and heat penetrated my bones until, after a time, I had no body, only a sense of silence and distance and calm.
As if I had just woken from all water into dream.
— Tassajara Zen Mountain Center, 1973
Comments on this entry are closed.
Up until now I never found that chick funny.
Just goes to show you never can tell.
She’s so unfunny God intervened in an act of mercy
I had never heard of her before that video. Good Lord, what a vulgar skank.
that **thunk** you heard, that was her.
“Thank you for your prayers and wishes.”
Really? I can only imagine how many of the “thoughts and wishes” might be for her succumbing to her injuries, or getting some sense being knocked into her from the impact.
Yep. And it should be noted: How many of her fans know anything about prayer?
A pity she was not turned into salt.
Weeelllll, I dunno. The Lord came to save and He has millions of ways He can do that but saying or suggesting that the Lord Jesus caused her to pass out and receive a concussion isn’t something that I would have guessed or attributed to Him.
Particularly when there are some huge evil monster fish in the world’s bottomless oceans of God haters and Christ Jesus mockers who need a real soul searing reckoning from the Lord or from one of His Agents IF saving their soul is the Lord’s desire.
But what do I know? In our finest moments none of us are worthy of Heaven except through God’s gift of Salvation and I’ve been working on mine for over 40 years. But if I were to judge myself I would only be able to say that I can see very little visible progress. No matter how hard I try.
The Bible is filled with God inflicting pain on a man or a nation to get them to see the Truth and the Light. Jonah for one. Pharaoh for another. Nebuchadnezzar II for yet another. The prophets of the Lord for others. And what of Nineveh? And shall we recall the Flood? Sometimes pain is the only way to reach a man or a nation. Physical pain is nothing at all compared to the pains of Hell.
You can try all you want Jack, but you will never be worthy of Heaven. No one can possibly be worthy. It is not about deserving this or deserving that. It is about Christ on the Cross doing all of that for you. He will make you worthy if you will let Him, though His work will not be completed in this life. I deserve Hell, but Christ thinks otherwise. I’ll go with the Carpenter.
I know that the Bible is filled with examples of the Lord physically and spiritually reminding His children that they are well off the path and I know it too from personal experience when He stepped in to make very certain that I turned completely around. My comment was tendered in an effort to keep things within some kind of perspective….viz, she’s no different than any of us when we pop off with some glib nonsense.
I have seen her before and I never paid any attention. But there are others who are far more offensive and destructive with damnable behavior and intent without regard for man or God and while I know that it is not my job to judge them, I don’t know that I’d wince at all if they were publicly smitten.
And regarding the sacrifice of Jesus for our redemption, please don’t think for a second that I’m not aware of it every moment of every day. It doesn’t matter what I am doing or thinking, my awareness of Who and What He IS is a constant companion. My only concern with this arrangement, and I believe it should be the same with all men, is that I bring so very little to the relationship.
Jack, as I’m sure you are aware, it’s not about what we do or how hard we try, but about what He did
How DARE you think this poor girl collapsed because of the vaxx! You are SO wrong. Because. NOW, Out to the woodshed with you. https://tinyurl.com/32znteu9
Who’s heather mcdonald?
Some pratfall comedienne 😉
The tyranny of the power elite must not stop. “Keep it up, girls. See what happens.” The long train of abuses is a fuse leading to a powder keg that grows larger and larger. I am amazed to see them (over-educated, under-trained, smug pricks) do the wrong thing every single time—doubling down, more threats, insults, and injuries—from the entire economy to our internal organs, from elders to toddlers, moving inexorably (compulsively? gleefully?) closer and closer to gunfire aimed at “insurrectionists” who, one day, will shoot back. “Keep it up Justine. More mandates, Poopy Pants.” Absolutely get the FBI and Homeland Security involved. Add to the list of those who won’t be missed. Armed civilians outnumber your fat-ass LEO’s (696,644 in 2020) by at least 50 (million) to 1. They have to fight en mass—“Thanks for the barn-sized targets y’all.” Civilians by one’s and by squads from the bushes.
“Praise be to the Lord my Rock,
who trains my hands for war, my fingers for battle.
2 He is my loving God and my fortress,
my stronghold and my deliverer, my shield,
in whom I take refuge,
who subdues peoples[ a] under me.” [Psalm 144.]
“I’m double vaxed!” blah blah…ka-thunk!!
As a veteran, I often laugh at human misery. But, it’s my dark humor. I in no way want her to be badly hurt. But, the irony. Sheesh!
I went to Jackass tonight. My eyes are full of tears from laughing too hard.
So the essence of comedy is timing…. and God showed GREAT timing with that irreverent gal. Such perfect timing that the audience first thought it was part of the act. Hilarious!
And yet, contra Van der Leun, most folks WON’T see the chiding Hand of God in this, ’cause they’re impervious, in denial. “Who you gonna believe, Madeline Murray O’Hair or your lying eyes?”
Thank goodness we Texicans aren’t so sophisticated. Heck, we still occasionally spot a portrait of Jesus in a tortilla fresh off the griddle.
Frankie weighs in:
Thats life! (Thats life)
Thats what anti-Vaxxers say
You’re mocking God in April
Winked out in May
But you ought not, ought not get so blue
Cause you’ll be patched back up
Patched up in the ICU
I’ve heard that female stand up comedians are generally not funny.
I wouldn’t really know. I don’t have much knowledge of, or exposure to, the genre.
But this chick is hilarious.
Is it for certain that this isn’t an extended come-on? It sure looked like that the fall was an act. Since the news is so unreal, it would be so easy to fake cracking your head, and fake the recovery.
That was just way too coincidental, just immediately after touting all her vaxx’s she collapses.
Or was it a fake faint that went bad, she tried for verity in her collapse, and lost control of it, and bounced her noggin on the floor and got her bell rung. But I never saw an admission in any of the new stories that this started as an act that went sideways.
Oh well, just another example of life’s endless worthless mysteries, to be forgotten by next week.