The shattered water made a misty din.
Great waves looked over others coming in,
And thought of doing something to the shore
That water never did to land before.
The clouds were low and hairy in the skies,
Like locks blown forward in the gleam of eyes.
You could not tell, and yet it looked as if
The shore was lucky in being backed by cliff,
The cliff in being backed by continent;
It looked as if a night of dark intent
Was coming, and not only a night, an age.
Someone had better be prepared for rage.
There would be more than ocean-water broken
Before God’s last Put out the light was spoken.
— Robert Frost
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.
I feel my fate in what I cannot fear.
I learn by going where I have to go.
We think by feeling. What is there to know?
I hear my being dance from ear to ear.
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.
Of those so close beside me, which are you?
God bless the Ground! I shall walk softly there,
And learn by going where I have to go.
Light takes the Tree; but who can tell us how?
The lowly worm climbs up a winding stair;
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.
Great Nature has another thing to do
To you and me; so take the lively air,
And, lovely, learn by going where to go.
This shaking keeps me steady. I should know.
What falls away is always. And is near.
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.
I learn by going where I have to go.
— BY THEODORE ROETHKE
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
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
Gerard Van der Leun
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“Remember, when you are dead, you do not know you are dead. It is only painful for others.
The same applies when you are stupid.”
― Ricky Gervais
“It is usually futile to try to talk facts and analysis to people who are enjoying a sense of moral superiority in their ignorance.”
Thomas Sowell
I like the Babylon Bee’s take.
https://babylonbee.com/news/don-lemon-joined-by-flock-of-monocled-geese-in-tophats-for-extensive-belly-laugh
Rick Wilson’s high school classmates (he didn’t have friends) called him “Jughead”. For obvious reasons.
7 people in that ad, a good cross section of the left, a twice failed presidential candidate who looks like she’s coming off a 20 day meth run, two hoemoes, a senile old degenerate, an unwatched media hack with “tingles”, a third world chump who doe bad bad racist impressions of real Americans and a jugeared failed political consultant who couldn’t net Jeff Epstein elected president of the Pedophile Club. Nice party a*sholes
Excuse the typos, still on my first cup of coffee
Apparently what passes for wit, humor and clever repartee within the “elites” is the type of talk that is quite common among children of middle-school age. If this is the moral/intellectual level at which these people operate then it is no wonder they are obsessed with outward appearance, pee-pees and poo-poos, status and name-calling.