QOTD: “What happens when The Purge meets Red Dawn + Fallling Down in real life?”
Next post: POTD: Joel Hirst for when “The world is too much with us….”
Previous post: Tucker: Our leaders dither as our cities burn
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.
“What happens when The Purge meets Red Dawn + Fallling Down in real life?”
People die.
“What happens when….”
People die.
**
Oh, puhlease!
people die all the time.
everybody dies sooner or later.
Well, not everybody all at the same time.
so far.
I useta get “the look” from timid soy men (“Should I be afraid?”) and karenic screamales (“Should I tell someone?”) when I carried openly.
No longer.
Maybe tee shirts with a pic of a guy on the street with his bleeding head kicked in, and the words, “Maybe beg with real tears and they won’t beat you to death.” Followed by a pic of a Smith and Wesson .357, and the words, “Or, point this at their face and squeeze.”
It’s 1984 and the bad guys arrived by parachute in Red Dawn. It’s 2020 and the bad guys arrived via the ballot box.
Something to consider:
While these street festivities go on unabated, be certain that other players on the world stage are watching very closely. China certainly has a slew of its own problems, but they would welcome the opportunity to assist in the demise of our nation, covertly, of course. They may even take this as a chance to play a strong hand on Taiwan. Figuring U.S. is preoccupied with internal matters and therefore unable to respond meaningfully. And would’t that be an indication to the world that this country is no longer made of the same metal as her forebears?
Also, Off Topic, but Western Rifle Shooters appears to be gone. Glitch? Didn’t pay the rent? Permanently banned? Any word?
You can always find Pete on GAB.
CA said on Gab that Wordpress nuked WRSA today for “violating terms of service”.
No doubt whatsoever WRSA’s been in their crosshairs for some time. Chickensh*ts.
CA and his readers ain’t going away,Wordpress cyber twats.
I heart WRSA but they are a ship of fools for having that inside wordpress’s perimeter. It’s what? $8 to $20 a month to have it on their own domain.
POST #1 WRSA REBOOT CYCLE
1955E 2JUN2020
That Would Be Called An “Indicator”
One of the early goals of all Red revolutions is the seizure or destruction of all information distribution outlets.
There is only one truth to the Communist: that day’s party line.
Woe unto those who do not adhere.
The second iteration of the Western Rifle Shooters Association (WRSA) blog, hosted by Wordpress, was nuked today.
While it is a loss, it was a deliberate sacrifice of a player to increase situational awareness.
The Reds are on the move.
The prize is the former United States of America.
The Red cares not about race, except to the extent it can and is used to befog the naive about the Party’s real goals.
WRSA was, first and always, a freedom advocacy site.
It was shot out of the saddle today by an arm of the Communist enemy propaganda machine.
Their attack did not kill WRSA.
Nor did it kill a single one of its followers.
The totalitarian bastards really can’t stop the signal.
Take heart, not just in this tiny skirmish but in the overall struggle to save the West, from WRSA’s final masthead:
“This is only the beginning of the reckoning. This is only the first sip, the first foretaste of a bitter cup which will be proffered to us year by year unless by a supreme recovery of moral health and martial vigour, we arise again and take our stand for freedom as in the olden time.”
― Winston Churchill
Forward.
https://gab.com/WRSA/posts/104277105566412775