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WHEN in the course of human Events, it becomes necessary….
Welcome to the New American Digest: 2003-2020
Gerard Van der Leun
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
Comments on this entry are closed.
The Sidney Powell quote says it all. After successfully stealing the 2020 Presidential election, why would anyone ever think the democrats would ever permit another election that wasn’t rigged? It’s my understanding that the whole point of stealing is to keep that which was stolen.
And get better at it.
And not speaking out about it is being their b***h
If it weren’t for the beauty and the humor, I’d be crying after this.
Soldiers on the Normandy beachhead: weren’t they just anti fascists? Ba dum, tissshhh.
POYUS wants to tell you what to unthink, via private sosh media. I have enjoyed a bit of science fiction in my somewhat long lifetime, but I never went that deep into it. A repeating premise. or fiction line, was that in the future, corporations would wield undue power or influence, and that would become a central part of our loss of freedoms. I always rejected that story line as too out-there. OhhhhFark. GD it to hell. Here we go. How to fight corporate dictatorship? Obama armed his alphabet agencies, even the benign ones, to the hilt. Will we see corporations buying tanks and jets next?
CIA. That’s funny, except that it isn’t. Over half of the militaries and intel and police agencies of the nations on the planet – way over half – are pointed at their own people. We’ve enjoyed over 200 years where the military was not been the villain. Fuck that, now. Biden needs his name associated with that sea-change. Are the homeless camps his? Perhaps; I heard someone call them Bidenvilles. I would hang the new immigration non-policies around his neck. But the non-binary military with a case of the ass against patriotic americans. That pisses me off no end.
All them steers scratching their heads and saying, “Hey, where’s my butt hole? It was here a minute ago!…… SWALLWELL!!”
If the regime targets you they will send more than necessary to deliver you to evil at 3am.
They need to taste the other side of the blade.
The mayor(s) in your county should be extracted at 3am, taken to a remote area, and skinned alive.
At some point the patriots in this country will be enacting these deeds.
In the back of your mind you know this is true.
Before it starts, it should be in the front of your mind.
If you can’t wargame this out in your head now you won’t be able to act when the time comes and you will likely fall taking all your family with you.
You should have a very small and tight crew that assembles frequently and speaks freely about the current events past and present. Think of it as a pressure regulator that prevents your pop-off valve from blowing prematurely. Yes, the load gets lighter when it’s spread out among a few others, enabling you to do more, longer. Don’t just talk it, walk it!