LVPD body cam pic.twitter.com/bJ7lUn1MXQ
— JGX (@jgx1313) October 4, 2017
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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
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https://globalnews.ca/news/3786193/b-c-man-survives-bullet-in-back-of-the-head-during-las-vegas-shooting/
Canadian man hit in the back of the head; the bullet tumbled along the skull and exited. Analysis: not an FMJ, but a civilian type expanding round. Low caliber. It had the energy of a “mallet blow.” Mr. Paddock got his best hit, a head shot, but it didn’t take.
re: Michael Savage audio of the woman who heard multiple shooters and rumored a shooter in the crowd: I’m hearing echoes of a single shooter in some videos. Varying the pitch because of echo, and he did use different weapons. In WW II, if you were in the water, and the Jap zeroes were firing, the effective feeling was that they were hunting you in particular (first-hand account to me). In a violent, chaotic situation, your mind will “grow” a hunter, and perhaps esp. if the danger is overhead like that.
Mark Steyn and Dan Bongino make the most sense to me this morning. However, the sheriff in Clark County is tipping some info and I think he’s doing it to reconnoiter the data set out there in the ether. Cunning cop. It’s a combination of something he knows, and much he wants to find out.
I get that Paddock was “smart,” and that he planned ahead, and his tactical vantage point was good. Motive, please.
BTW, I will concede to other commenters here that the holes in the story make for curiosity, and are telling in themselves. A hunter uses deductive reasoning to “tell” what the deer or the coyote is doing, and what he will do. A detective asks questions and makes suppositions, but allows for the data to rule out unlikely story lines.
What is his NRA membership number? Where are his voting records? per Mark Steyn: even a deep spy agency would create a cover social media milieu to not draw attention to an individual. His totally dark web presence is creepy and unbelievable.
Or the lack of social media could be because in some ways, the shooter was a Luddite who didn’t use the internet much if at all.
Some people are just old school. My brother, who is almost 60, doesn’t know anything about computers and although he has email, someone else has to show him how to use it. He does have a smartphone and knows how to text though.
The one facet to all the information/pictures, etc. that the people in control are disseminating concerning the event is that it is well designed theater. Too perfect in story flow and script. Look at how well the .gov hid the Kennedy assassination facts. And most of the people do not question the .gov in these matters. We most likely as others have stated, not know who was behind this slaughter. But so far my gut tells me there is a huge coverup in progress.
What’s the theory of the DayGlo vests the LVPD are wearing?
To avoid shooting each other? Better night time targets?
From my limited information and zero expertise, it seems like it took a very long time for the police to actually break into the shooter’s hotel room, and that they did so after he quit shooting, having killed himself. Can anyone help me understand if I am incorrect, or if I am correct but the delay was unavoidable? I fully realize that breaking into a room occupied by a heavily armed person is borderline suicidal, but I am not a trained police officer and the people on the spot were. I do not want to criticize, but to fully understand.
Ray, idt it was a long time, but only my opinion. Identify shooter’s position, which was not easy. Confusion of communication with the hotel, who did find out where he was but now you have to get that info to the police. Muster the SWAT team and get armed and briefed; now tailor your force for the room breach.
Don’t forget, they had their hands full with that shot-up venue, the Vegas Strip running traffic below, chaos of medical responses.
What was it? 70 minutes? Not bad, in my way of thinking. Can they improve on that with training? You bet they will, but they’re training for the last event and not the next one.