John (“stay with me”) jon takes you on a freeway tour of the world that is and the world to come.
![That Was the Whopper Weekend That Was [Illustrated]](https://americandigest.org/wp/wp-content/uploads/2021/05/welcometohell-150x150.jpg "That Was the Whopper Weekend That Was [Illustrated]")
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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Wonder how many how Biden Boroughs (homeless encampments) there are in the country?
John (“stay with me”) Jon remarked during his narrative, “This can’t go on.” Well, maybe it can.
What’s the alternative? Residential mental health facilities have long been shuttered. On a cost basis, perhaps this is less expensive. And just as an aside, I wonder what the vaxx percentage is among the borough inhabitants? And will they get kicked out if they don’t get the jabs?
I wonder if those Studies degrees include a course on how to make your domicile and surroundings ugly?
Imagine the vapors wafting off those dumps. Overwhelmed with shit, piss and jizz, rotted food, screaming hot temperatures. Biohazards galore.
Some observations:
1. I only saw two blue kibos for the mauve encampment, a normal size for the gents and a double-wide preferred by the ladies. Everybody knows that if you are running a populous outdoor event, you need a few double-wides and have to reserve them for women. Yeesh, there aren’t enough kibos for that many folks. Not cool.
2. Just like all the outdoor sporting gear companies that make production runs for the military folks down-low on the qt, somebody got a corrupt lucrative contract to make mauve tents at 3 times the standard rate. I don’t recognize the make and model.
3. Pikers. In other countries, the traffic island to the left of the encampment would be wall-to-wall shanties fully occupying all the bare dirt. People in other countries are hardier and more resourceful. Our people have to be given free tents.
4. It reminds me of when the Joads made it into the FedGov encampment after living rough when they first came to California: clean, orderly, so nice they thought they’d made it into heaven. I seem to remember that the fedgov encampment came with rules and enforcers. Do the people in pastelpurpleville think likewise? Does LA enforce behavior and cleanliness rules in the camps?
Come on, it’s not their faults, ninth circuit three member panel opined that the homeless can live where they choose, IF cities can not find/provide housing for them. Those fun loving kids, gotta go some place.
I suggested the upper one percenters hoods, got slapped down hard!
VI
If the Federal Gubmint can ship illegals from TX all over the US, why shouldn’t states charter some busses and send homeless folks to CA? Give them $20 cash, can of ravioli, a 40 of eight ball and one way bus ticket to Hollywood. How could they resist?