Sign. Seaside, Oregon. September, 1941
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WHEN in the course of human Events, it becomes necessary….
Welcome to the New American Digest: 2001-2022
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
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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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And just 4 months later…
Lol, my son, daughter in law and Grand boys are right now in Sea Side OREGON at a BRBO.
-it’s one of Van D’s synchronistic posts.
**that is a beautifully exposed and printed foto. exquisite. find other of his work at shorpy.**
-gwbnyc
Medium format acetate negative by Russell Lee for the Farm Security Administration
https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Russell_Lee_(photographer)
“Lee started working as a chemist, but gave up the position to become a painter. Originally he used photography as a precursor to his painting, but soon became interested in photography for its own sake. He recorded the people and places around him. Among his earliest subjects were Pennsylvanian bootleg mining and the Father Divine cult.”
-as luck would have it, I was emailing a lifelong friend today whose grandfather had a bootleg mine near Berlin, Pennsylvania. visited it once.
Lots of folks going everywhere. Attempting to avoid the chaos. I’ve got friends who’ve picked up everything and landed in Mexico. I’ve been mugged down there and I don’t have a warm fuzzy feeling for the place. Badges? We don’t need no stinking badges. And it’s usually the cops mugging you. The Deagel website is like porn for military industrialists. They came up with a very extensive list, predictions for the rise and fall of nations’ populations and GDP. Deagel said in 2017 that the US had 316, 440,000 population and in 2025 it will be 99,553,100. Mexico was at 118,820,000 and will grow to 124,717,280 by 2025. The US at only 99 million might actually be pretty nice! Check it out for yourself and tell me what you think. https://nobulart.com/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/2021/08/Deagel-2025-Forecast-by-Country.pdf
How is the US population going to drop that far, that fast?
My guess… just from what I’m hearing and reading of real reports… looks like the vaxx is going to take out an enormous measure of humanity. That’s what these freakish concoctions were designed to do, so what else could be the answer to your question? Max Igan fled Australia a few months back and landed, in exile, for now, in Mexico. He’s posted 9 pages of side effects that Pfizer themselves have declared. Max opens the video with the purposely designed flooding in Australia that’s evacuating everyone to the recently built internment camps. Then he gets to what Pfizer has designed. He closes out with the bandits of Mexico that are holding his guitar in ransom for 43,000 pesos. That’s $2,200 US. They don’t need no stinking badges.
https://www.bitchute.com/video/8lHwIKjcxRal/
Interesting posts and I looked at all of it. Question: Who or what is Deagle and how does he fit in to the interpretation of things?
As I mentioned earlier, Deagel is an information center for all things of industrial-military complexity. If you’re an arms dealer or manufacturer then Deagel is your home page every time you flip on the computer. Check it out. https://www.deagel.com/
Here’s another Deagel compilation of countries destined for doom… or extreme shrinkage.
https://astediscovery.com/COVID/DEPOPULATION.htm
I’ve never heard of him but that doesn’t mean anything. How does he arrive at his predictions regarding these population decimations and blaming all of it on the shots?
Deagel isn’t blaming it on the shots. I am. If you read the second article Deagel says most of the deaths are contributed to suicide. They don’t say what causes this final action. My opinion… getting vaxxed is suicide. Here’s good advise… definitely a good bumper sticker…”Lemmings run fast… stand out of the way.”
SORRY, but at deagel.com I fail to find the referenced charts from 2025 showing that decline. I can find the chart showing status as of 2022 but none beyond that. Can you please locate them at deagel.com? Thanks.
From what I read elsewhere Gerard, this was several months back, Deagel removed their population decline predictions when suddenly these numbers became a very curious attraction. I just looked and yes, their website currently halts at 2022. That link I provided above from astediscovery.com provides screen shots from when Deagel still had this on their website.
Tom Luongo has written a brilliant observation of the saber-rattling the US clowns in Congress and the White House have been exercising. And this is a keen description of Putin’s strategy and frame of mind.https://tomluongo.me/2022/03/18/putin-destined-to-hang-or-drown/
Tom, thank you for posting that piece. Very insightful indeed. It helps solidify other essays that are appearing of late.
Once again I become convinced I’m living in a simulation. Only yesterday Seaside OR came up on a kiteboarding forum I frequent. The topic was access to big waves from the shore, similar to what happens in Hawaii for Jaws or the outer reefs on the North Shore. Seaside came up as one of the most “local” surf spots anywhere. Outsiders are not welcome and often confronted with violence, at least if they are surfers.
“Outsiders are not welcome and often confronted with violence, at least if they are surfers.”
That is possibly due to a shortage of attractive women. Outside competition. I experienced a hostile welcome at Santa Cruz Beach in California way back until they realized I was with the girl they all longed for. One of the best female surfer girls on the west coast. And a real looker in every detail. The characters did not wish their bad side be exposed in front of Lori. Thank you dearest Lori for your ever wonderful memories.
Speaking as a former surfer, here. Localism has been a plague on the game since forever, and surfers have always been died in the wool assholes. Oregon surfers are the assholes of all assholes. Picture your typical save Gaia progressive: smug, totally hippier than thou, and now morphed into antifa in a wetsuit. They can all drown or get eaten by sharks, and the world would be a better place for it.
JWM
Lol, lol. Casey I spit my coffee up, the truth hurts, often. Oregon surfers are posers, however this OREGON Coast is boogie board heaven.
Last time I was on a board was off of Big River, Mendocino Ca. Froze my nuts off.
They got that wrong, but they were certain that nobody would coming to them to harsh their mellow…
I’ve lived near there, for 5 years… It’s been pretty peaceful.
Well the Gold-thieving Cripple and his Dyke of a ‘Wife’ had other plans.
Poor bloody Charles Lindbergh.
Two things:
1. Let us not forget that Oregon was one of the earliest and most dedicated bastions of socialism/communism in this country–no war for those jerks. I have spent most of my life driving on California and also Seattle freeways. Since then have moved out to a newly desirable destination in the acricultural west. As soon as they move in they get a local license plate. Guess what? I can still tell if they are from OR–they are so damn slow to assess the situation on the road, or at the intersection! It seems their schools have not been working on eye/hand co-ordination. They have not concept that the sweetest thing they could do for their fellow woman on the highway is to get out of the dang way!
Two: We should all feel safe. It is not necessary to worry about war, or the Ukraine, rather our congress spent this week worrying about which African hairstyles should be allowed in the workplace! Yeah–baby, we are good!
🙂 Yep, our CONgresscritters move to memorialize adornments such as SJL’s execrable crowning weave. And forget not the efforts in the other chamber to ‘protect daylight’ by mandating DST forever.
Give me standard time or give me beer.
Story told to me first hand by a WWII veteran. He was living in Oregon in the early part of the war. A transport ship beached in a storm, and the locals, most living hand to mouth, ransacked it and picked all the canned food and freight from it like a flock of vultures! Peaceful Oregon Coastals, indeed.
Can’t speak to the east coast, but here on the left coast, Spring Break started last Thursday/ Fri. Good luck finding a camping space anywhere on the OREGON coast. While cool here in the mountains, it’s sweat shirt weather.
Wife’s been purchasing me different weights of “ Carhartt” hooded sweatshirts, in earth tones.
Don’t need the hood, but I’ve been wearing Carhartt T’s, long and short, for many years. They hold up pretty good but sometimes have strange sizing. Yes, low level colors all the time.