Just because she looks like Steven Tyler in a mullet doesn’t mean she can’t make a sandwich.
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WHEN in the course of human Events, it becomes necessary….
Welcome to the New American Digest: 2001-2022
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
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
FSA/8d22000/8d224008d22491a.tif
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
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
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
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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
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
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
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If I lived with her, I’d leap at the chance to get drafted.
With most every excuse from military service removed (gayness, femaleness) it remains to be seen what a modern draft would look like. We are told that the fitness level of the draft pool is a limitation. Just like with the story of the airlines and the hospitals calling their untouchable unvaxed back to work, the military will be looking to recall it’s RIFF’d for vax and probably they may also get a new opinion on political profiles, too. Fukn. Stupid. Pentagon. I hated those silly bastards when I was a junior officer with them as they came out of West Point.
I see a news article about the female general of the California NG doing a stand-to of her troops for…Ukraine. Doesn’t mean they’re going; just means she’s scaring them ahead of time so their shit is wired a bit tighter for when her drug-induced wet dream comes true and she “stands with Ukraine”. I wonder if she’s like Camela Harris, and mistakenly thinks Ukraine is in NATO. Fuk. Tards.
Without going into detail, I have known a lot of women. Some were typical feminists, spouting their usual jargon about this and that and the other. Of course they were annoying, but after hours when the lights went out, they were as any other woman. All that feminist nonsense is just a charade.
Naturally I speak only for attractive feminists—yes, there are a few. The ugly ones get tattoos, are as fat as pregnant hogs, and have multiple piercings and weird haircuts. And they are all Democrats; and many become lesbians. They hate men because no real man would pay them any attention. They envy attractive females, and hate them more than they hate men.
If you are a male and do not understand these basics, you have much to learn. Get busy.
Mike sed: “They hate men because no real man would pay them any attention.”
======
Right. They learned this at an early age, maybe even 1st grade, because they were raised wrong. Even little kids intuitively shy away from that sort of thing. So the little privileged gurl grows up to be a constantly shunned adult with a huge chip on her shoulder. To her, it’s always someone else’s fault, never her own. Her outsides grows to reflect her insides. She’s ugly to the core.
What’s worse are the feminized beta males who orbit around reasonably attractive feminists. Just being near them causes me to reach for my revolver.
Am I wrong or did that actress change clothes during the middle of that skit?
You’re right and shed. From a frumpy shirt and rumpled jeans, to a nice feminine dress. It’s part of the gag.
… she did. …
The pic that tells it all.
Vagina power.
https://taratwphoto.com/portfolio/i-had-an-abortion/
Too bad her mother did not have one.
When Gloria was born, all decent Americans believed abortion was criminal activity.
“You’ve come a long way baby.”
All decent Americans still believe so.
That’s a pretty large ‘V’. Is Gloria trying to confess something? She is, after all, an ex-Playboy Bunny. These types are not known for chastity. All such are “chicas bien chingadas.” Or as the Greeks called Hellen, “the many manned woman.”
Hugh called her the “Fuck Ditch”.
Which proves that sexual morality is no barrier to having a whole glowing chapter written about you in every public school history book in America.
From the video comment section –
“Everyone’s a feminist until the ship starts to sink.”
A hung man, with his hat still on,,,,,,,, yea right!