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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
Van der Leun: The Normblog Bio of Your Host
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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As if I needed another reason to not watch the NFL.
Colin Kaepernick is calling the 4th of July a white supremacist holiday. I do not know how we can get this turned around! Even my far left nearly-80-year old Hispanic friend thinks that any white person who flies an American flag year round is a white supremacist. It’s just sick!
There is no such thing. More negro trash. No I didn’t look.
Just guessing, but is it the Theme from Shaft?
Margot,
You’re not alone. Remember that. Most Americans–and I’m serious and I can do math–don’t give one crap about Colin Kaepernick. At least one third of Americans couldn’t pick him out of a lineup if he was wearing a football uniform.
I live in a neighborhood where whites are minority, in freaking Minneapolis. Imagine how I have to be mindful of what I say! I’m not physically afraid, but people can make trouble for me, and I can’t be awake 24 hours. So I am mindful. But I am not silent. I will not smile and accept lies told to my face.
My mayor and governor both have failed the people they serve. This will not be forgotten. I remind folks every day about it. Outside the Twin Cities metro area, the governor is a dead man. Senator Amy Klobuchar? I would have bet she could be reelected forever. Not anymore! People are talking. People remember.
I hear tell that Joe Biden is leading in the polls. But the polls hide one important thing: people are lying to them, deliberately. Look, if Joe and whoever will replace him when he’s declared feeble win, does anyone believe that the Democrats won’t grab “anonymous” polling data, which includes your phone number? If they’ve got your phone, they can find you, find your boss, find your business. Damn right if I get polled, I’m either hanging up, or lying. The polling companies do not have any way to tell what the real sentiment is.
The only charges against rioters in Minnesota have come from the US attorney. People have noticed. People noticed that “peaceful” protesters were either throwing rocks, frozen water bottles, or sheltering those who were. People will remember.
You’re not alone, not by a long shot. Find your friends, lay in some supplies. Be ready. You might be able to trust your sheriff. You cannot trust police. In Minneapolis, we know now that the police will not cross a fricking street in daylight to stop looting and arson. That’s because the mayor told them not to. We’ll remember.
Apparently the NBA is going to go them one better, and have Burn Loot Murder slogans sewn or printed on the players’ uniforms. I don’t have the sports gene. The games seem utterly pointless to me, and I’ve never had the inclination to watch. Sweet karma if both leagues went belly up.
JWM
Gordon.
Great post. So your neighbors, co-workers, what are they saying? I can’t imagine owning a home up there. Have property values gone down? Do people feel betrayed? Or are they just numb? Or are they even paying attention? I always wanted to go there before this but not now. Perhaps we will go visit the rural areas. I have zero desire to be near chaos and destruction. I just wonder if people are talking and what they are thinking.
It’s a joke ghost you ignorant slut.
lol
It’s hard to tell what’s real and what’s Memorex these days.
The “NATIONAL Football League”… so just what NATION do they represent? Certainly not America. Perhaps it’s China, or their much poorer country cousin Venezuela, that the NFL represents. I would not miss them at all if they were to pack up and move their operations to whatever NATION they truly represent.
If the NFL is trying to appease the Antifa types trashing New York, Portland, Minneapolis, Seattle et al, they would get better mileage by playing Die Wacht am Rhein ahead of the national anthem.
NFL=No Fans Left
That video is downright funny! Love the shirts,too;Thank You,Hodge twins! A blast of cool truth on this July 4th weekend,very nice.
The Hodges are the masculine version of Diamond and Silk.
When I first heard reference to “the black national anthem”, my first reaction was, WTH? Never heard of it. Then yesterday I finally ran across a piece that actually identified the song. It’s title is “Lift Every Voice and Sing”. This finally allowed me to find out a little bit more about it. I don’t normally take Wikipedia articles at face value, but the entry for this song seems to be legit.
As the twins mention, it is a beautiful song. It started as a poem written in 1900 by James Weldon Johnson, later set to music by his brother in 1905. Although there is no official Black National Anthem, the wiki article says that the NAACP dubbed the song “the Negro national anthem” in 1919, where the author was employed at the time, hence why it carries the moniker today. The poem takes the form of a prayer expressing gratefulness to God for liberty. Although the author’s context was a celebration of the emancipation — it was first publicly performed (as a poem) as part of a celebration for Lincoln’s birthday — the song does not explicitly mention slavery or race, and can be interpreted as celebrating struggle and freedom for any people. As a prayer, it is often viewed as a hymn and is included in many Christian hymnals. If you had to replace the national anthem to start a ball game, you could do a lot worse.
I’m not a sports fan, so I have no dog in this fight. I won’t know or remember which games did or did not begin with this song, nor do I care. But I am curious to see how this evolves. Presumably, singing this song is supposed to honor the BLM movement, and maybe it does. But we know that many of the leaders of the (official?) BLM organization are self-avowed Marxists, and as such their interest is to maintain the racial divide, keep the hate active, and push the meme that blacks are still an oppressed group. Anyone who takes a close look at the poem can see that the message in the song is inconsistent with these Marxist goals. First of all, it acknowledges God and His actions in our lives and history. Second, the song speaks of liberty as having already been achieved — we’re there folks! — and while the song petitions God to “keep us forever in the path”, that’s an apt prayer for any people, whether slavery is involved or not. And third, the song makes no accusations against whites, no demands for reparations, and if read in the context of the emancipation, even acknowledges the sacrifices made during the civil war (“We have come, treading our path through the blood of the slaughtered …”). This cannot be good for Marxist messaging. I’m waiting to see when the Marxists start pushing back against this song.
NFL = Negro Football League with revenues and attendance in accord with the demographic.
For BillH–
“If the NFL is trying to appease the Antifa types trashing New York, Portland, Minneapolis, Seattle et al, they would get better mileage by playing Die Wacht am Rhein ahead of the national anthem.”
If the NFL played the tune of Die Wacht am Rhein, all the local Ivy types would love it. In New Haven, it’s known as the Yale National Anthem, aka “Bright College Years.”
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t0kMqI9sGRM&ab_channel=Dr.Ludwig%27sarchive
I don’t know whether the current undergrad wokesters have scrapped the words “God” and “Country” in the last line, but it’s probably coming.
it looks like those ‘black’ twins have more white ancestors than black
You can be born and live your entire life in Japan and never be Japanese but anyone can come to America and become an American