[HTx2: Tom Hyland]
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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
Van der Leun: The Normblog Bio of Your Host
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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Klaus Schwab is pure evil. It knows time is short. Tempus fugit.
Wooden stakes pounded through their chests where a normal person’s heart is located. Then hung from convenient lamp post or tree limb.
The monsters have no redeeming human characteristics. Servants of Satan.
I think we need to update the tactics, perhaps – dehumidify the body into a desert, so as to accelerate the “from dust to dust” truth of each shell of those who have nothing, neither hope nor positive example, to leave the future. Let those only be an example of another life lived as one who knew not how to and thus could not accept and enjoy their precious gift.
There is the foundational lie of Progressivism: that people are basically innocent and good or at least ultimately perfectible. That is what soul-less despots, fiends and manipulators like Schwab and Harari want us to believe that they believe.
Of course it is a corrupt lie that they are using to gain power. They use it to con the weak and fearful into thinking that it is only oil (or populism, or society or racism or sexism or the people just across the border or- well, you name it) that brings evil into the world; whereas it is the denial that evil and good live in every human heart that sets evil loose in the form of these psychopaths.
Can we count on enough people understanding that the cynical effort to force the transition to green energy in the U.S. has left the west vulnerable to the bullying of the Russians and Chinese – those least green people on earth. That the genetic “hacking” of viruses that was funded with our own tax dollars with the cover story that it would make blunt the damage done by a “natural” pandemic.
This lie of Progress toward the new age of humanity, this lie of innocent perfectible humanity has never created anything but torture, betrayal, war, horror, and suffering that need never have happened.
And they always find a villain to blame. Blame it on Putin so you don’t have to be uncomfortable with your denial of the obvious responsibility you bear for the bloodshed in Ukraine. Blame it all on Trump and Trump supporters.
In the end, it doesn’t work. It is a challenge. If enough of us see the darkness for what it is and have and have the courage to stand up and say no, we will win eventually. Not to say we will all survive, but I am old and ready.
Simply: Brilliant!!
Psalm 58 comes to mind.
A long dissertation but well worth the read IMHO
“The Ukrainian people, regardless of what ethnic group they may belong to, are merely the latest unwitting hostages of the supranational totalitarian regime that brought the national economies of the entire world to their knees through the Covid deception, after publicly theorizing about the need to decimate the world population and transform the survivors into chronically ill patients who have irreparably compromised their immune systems.”
https://remnantnewspaper.com/web/index.php/articles/item/5881-on-the-russia-ukraine-crisis-a-message-from-abp-vigano-former-apostolic-nuncio-to-the-u-s/
Schwab is a modern day cut-rate Nimrud; his pony-boy catamite Yuval Noah Harari is a strange being indeed. Does that bald little runt have any muscle on him at all? And what an odd pair: Schwab with his German accent sounding like a commandant of Sobibor and Harari some brainiac super-Jew from the Hebrew University of Jerusalem.
Creatures like these pop up from time to time. They always believe they can outwit a God who, in their view, does not exist anyway. But this time these weird beings have arrived perhaps at just the right time—at least in their perverse mentalities. World War III beckons, a new pandemic—Gates has promised smallpox—is on the horizon and the elites of the world are the most cowardly, the most dishonorable and the most degenerate that have ever appeared in History.
I imagine that the Antichrist is around, presaging the End Times. He has not made his appearance yet, but he will. You scarcely need to read the news. The Book of Revelation will do quite nicely. Look for the Four Horsemen, wars and rumors of wars, and trumpets in the sky. You won’t be able to miss them. When you hear those horns, get on your knees.
Stay away from Sin, get in shape, stock up on—well, everything, especially food, medicines and ammo—and get a smallpox vaccine. I checked: they are still available.
Imagine the fun and tumult when Schwab and Harari and the rest of the Davos crowd meet in Person the God who they believe is not real. There will be laughter all around—the laughter of demons.
He (Yuval Noah Harari) deferred mandatory military service in the Israel Defense Forces to pursue university studies as part of the Atuda program but was later exempted from completing his military service following his studies due to health issues. Military medical personnel determined his anus had already, by age 18, been stretched more than 7 times normal size.
man that’s bowlin’ ball territory…
Military medical personnel determined his anus had already, by age 18, been stretched more than 7 times normal size.
So, not a complete asshole, but working on it.
Well, that is a bit of a stretch, don’t you think?