And begin again . . .
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![Allen Ginsberg: The Interview, <strong> ➡ 1972 ⬅ </strong> [Republished by unpopular demand]](https://americandigest.org/wp/wp-content/uploads/2022/05/ginsbergnirvana-150x150.jpg "Allen Ginsberg: The Interview, <strong> ➡ 1972 ⬅ </strong> [Republished by unpopular demand]")
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There is a place where the sidewalk ends
And before the street begins,
And there the grass grows soft and white,
And there the sun burns crimson bright,
And there the moon-bird rests from his flight
To cool in the peppermint wind.
Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black
And the dark street winds and bends.
Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And watch where the chalk-white arrows go
To the place where the sidewalk ends.
Yes we’ll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And we’ll go where the chalk-white arrows go,
For the children, they mark, and the children, they know
The place where the sidewalk ends.
by Shel Silverstein
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
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Nothing new under the sun
Nothing new? If they added “Lia” Thomas raising his gorilla arms in victory over a bunch of female swimmers I’d say that’s something new. That was a great video. Cringeworthy moments interspersed with utter beauty. The newspaper landing in front of the blue Cape Cod cracker box might have been the street where my life began. I had to pause the video.
A wonderful collection of moments! Pondering on what is a moment, I think about times when I’m in a stream flyfishing. Though there are collections of moments while in the stream; the take of a fly by a trout, a leap clear of the water from a hooked trout, a scolding by a kingfisher flying upstream, etc.; I often find that wading of a section of the stream seems as if it has only been a moment, and yet it has taken me 2 or 3 hours to cover that section. A moment, filled with moments.
Got so irate over an editorial hoping for the Grand Old Politburo or John Durham to restore the long gone former USA that I ripped up a shirt and some plastic hangars.
A good walkabout after all of that to cool off as nature keeps on rolling no matter what abominations the manboons are up to.
Thanks. It’s easy to forget what a gift it all is.
2:14 .. This is what is now known as a “San Francisco Moment” .. that magical moment when you inadvertenly step on a freshly squeezed pile of human sh*t
The geometricians tell us that a line is made up of an infinite number of points. I would say that a life is made up of an infinite number of moments: some memorable, some forgettable, some cringeworthy, some shameful, some heroic, some cowardly, some magnificent, some terrifying, some glorious. It is such with every man.
And another thing: Time is completely relative. It seldom goes in a straight line. It can curve around; it can slow to a crawl; it can get all twisty and fun-house mirror like. A young Air Force corpsman is told by a Texas Ranger that “the woman in the bathroom is dead. Go see for yourself.” Time for that young man goes all wobbly as he makes his way, step by awful step, to the dead girl. A 12 year old boy sits in a park in the summer. A 12 year old girl sits next to him. With no warning the girl plants a kiss on the boy’s mouth, and time stops for him. His entire life is caught up in that single moment. It becomes as much as part of him as his arm. Fifty-six years later he still remembers. A 19 year old walking across an Air Force base is struck out of the blue with a fierce punch to his face by a 20 year old man. The very next moment the 19 year old is standing above the 20 year old, who lies unconscious on the ground in a pool of his own blood. What happened? Fifty years later the grown man still has no answer. A moment in time lost forever.
Zeno wrote of Achilles and a tortoise. They race. The tortoise goes first, but even fleet-footed Achilles cannot catch him. For every time Achilles reaches a point where the tortoise was, the tortoise has gone farther. Achilles passes an infinite number of points where the tortoise was but is no longer.
Perhaps a man’s life is like that. No matter how many moments in time he has, he cannot catch up to all of them. Only at his death will he see them all. There will be surprises.
Very nice.
I’ve reached that point in my life that I start wondering about my “lasts”. Unless someone is dying, we rarely know that it will be the last time we see them. But for everything we do, there will be a last time. The hard part is enjoying them all as if they are.
Okay, that’s poignant. I know what you mean.
I came to realize the same thought about eight years ago. That realization gets more clear every day now. It’s not pessimism, it’s reality and it is an enlightenment of sorts for me.
Enjoy what we have at the moment.
A gesture is a motion that conveys meaning.
It would be nice to lead a life of gestural gems. Motion pictures usually fail at that, and so this is a good vid for trying to break the mould.
There’s a few Lasts in here:
https://sonar21.com/two-examples-of-russias-use-of-drone-warfare/
Both videos of interest for anyone thinking of the not so distant future at a place near you. The second one showing trench clearing squad tactics when you have an overhead drone view and a bucket full of hand grenades is particularly instructive.
The lesson learned is, *Do not f**k with Russians*. The UKE’s were led to slaughter by a phoney USA .gov group of elected and unelected power hungry, insatiable money hungry criminals. These same criminals are stirring the pot in their own backyard and do not realize it.
The real world is quite deadly and that may soon sink-in to the scrambled skulls in Wash DC.
Let’s you and him fight.