Lots can happen in a year… pic.twitter.com/MJQw9uUnQI
— James Woods (@RealJamesWoods) October 19, 2017
WHEN in the course of human Events, it becomes necessary….
Welcome to the New American Digest: 2003-2020
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.
Gerard Van der Leun
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
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
Comments on this entry are closed.
Totally beguiled, I watch again and again. I cannot look away from this train wreck, this final humiliation. Are those those the dulcet strains of Pit Bull I hear? So awkward, yet so fascinating.
That is just painful to watch.
I didn’t like Meghan Kelly, and I thought she overstepped the bounds when she asked that attempted “gotcha!” question during the Presidential Debate. When now-President Trump instantly whiplashed that underhanded attack back in her face with his “only Rosie O’Donnell” quip, I stood and applauded (along with most of the audience!)
It wasn’t her place to try and influence the election, she was supposed to be an evenhanded journalist asking hard questions, not “gotchas” meant to disqualify one of the candidates and glorify herself. She risked her reputation but lost her bet. If she had then apologised and shown repentance, I would (eventually) have forgiven her. Instead, she doubled down (now let me see, where have I heard that “SJWs Always Double Down?”- Oh, that’s right, I’m reading it now.)
Still, this is just unbearable to watch. Megyn Kelly has gone from an attractive woman on the top of her game to a self-humiliating shadow of her former self. Now I pity her, for she is entirely beaten.
It would have been better for her to have simply retired. At least some people could then remember her as she once was.
Television. A black hole on a stand that remains silent throughout the day. For very good reasons.
Kelley does have a nice rump
In the end she did it for money, enough money to carry her quite a long ways…
especially combined with an occasional check for ‘product endorsement’; “Today only, FREE with your jar of beauty cream. A gold plated turnip twatter!”.
The woman America loves to hate? (pick a side! ANY side! 😀 )
A FoxBomb sent to implode a bitter rival? (not holding my breath for a return)
NBC’s sneaky bid to capture Dancing With The Stars from… that other network? (what? it’s all crap; sue me for not knowing 😉
…
In the end, she’s laughing all the way to the bank, NBC-notes billowing behind her down 5th Ave. NYC’s version of a trickle down economy. Couldn’t have happened to a nicer person/network *devilish grin*
I’d rather watch Whoopi Goldberg eat a jar of peanut butter naked that watch Megyn dance.
I used to like her but I think she’s backed off on her meds and it shows. I don’t like to objectify women but she should just work on being hot and maybe next time do a little pole dance for us.
She is crying all the way to the bank.
I think the term is “Slow Motion Train Wreck”.
Couldn’t have happened to a nicer bint.
Let’s have a rousing rendition of Austin Cunningham’s ‘girls of fox news’…
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gNj0T4uK3lE