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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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There’s nothing that an operational flamethrower and a 50 caliber machine gun with a few hundred thousand rounds of ammo wouldn’t cure. I have a theory that one day a giant whisk broom will come out of the sky and all the dregs will be swept up and sent to eternal torment. And there ain’t gonna be no buts about it.
Voluntarily watching more of a minute of that would be pure penance.
I had more than enough 26 seconds in.
I am made of sterner stuff.
Made it to 38 seconds.
I feel ill.
I made it all the way to the 3 and a half minute mark. Had a queasy feeling and then, simply could not watch anymore.
There are a lot of severely f*ucked-up people running around and reproducing.
This does not end well.
I watched it all. Some of it was actually funny—the “politician” running for office. Some of it was uplifting—the little dog being saved. That part with the kid wearing the pumpkin only conformed Gerard’s opinion of pumpkins. Some of it was enraging—the babbling of the pro-vax imbeciles. And what was Bari Weiss doing talking to Mr. Potato Head on CNN? I have no idea what such antics really accomplish.
The rest was mostly a degenerate kaleidoscope of perversion and severe spiritual and mental illness.
Taken as a whole, let’s call the video a snapshot of where America is today—that is, some of America. Anyone who still believes that we can return to some 1950s Arcadia if only X happens, if only Y is in office, if only Z becomes law, is in denial. What the video by and large shows is a society in transition, one that is becoming something, one that is one its way to some destination like a mad train on its way to Hell. And this metamorphosis shows no sing of slowing down; on the contrary.
Eventually this insanity will crash headlong into the indifferent cruelty of Reality. What occurs after the collision no man can say. Those passengers on that train of lunacy appear to be enjoying the ride. But they won’t for very long.
I also watched it all the way through. Yes the beginning and a few segments later on were demoralizing, but quite a few segments gave me a glimmer of hope that people are perhaps waking up from their slumber and asking themselves…WTAF?
The perverts, the trannies, the non gender conforming “person’s”, the gays; They are a significantly small percentage of the population. Our mistake, when they started “coming out” in the beginning, was to just ignore them and hope they would leave us normal people alone. But their perversions and delusions and yes, mental disorders, wouldn’t let them live and let live. In order for them to feel good about themselves, they have to spread their disease amongst the rest of us.
Remember the old adage…The squeaky wheel gets the grease. They squeaked loud and clear, played the long game and got a few of their perverted friends into high elected and selected political office.
Just remember this; The worm will turn. They are still a very, very small minority. There a hell of a lot more of us than there are of them. Make our voices heard and force them back in the closet where they belong.
They can take a phallus up the ass or mutilate their bodies, I don’t care, but they are not going to make me celebrate their perversions.
Mike Guenther said;
“Just remember this; The worm will turn. They are still a very, very small minority. There a hell of a lot more of us than there are of them. Make our voices heard and force them back in the closet where they belong.
“They can take a phallus up the ass or mutilate their bodies, I don’t care, but they are not going to make me celebrate their perversions.”
And I pray his correct…can’t wait to see it all reverse, though it will never go back to the way it was.
Mike,
I think we are overdue for 40 years of wandering in the desert.
Got to the 55 second mark and that was it. I could take no more.
Two words……..demonic possession
Correct. Those two, along with demonic oppression, explain a great deal of the bizarre and wicked behavior that has run amuck in the world. Not surprisingly, when our Creator is kicked-out of our lives, a God-sized whole remains, and it is quickly filled by something else.
That’s exactly what it is. The demons manifest themselves in the appearance, words and actions of those possessed. They don’t even try to hide it any longer.
Demonic is the only word appropriate for these people.
Life’s good, why ruin my day!
VI
I made about six minutes before I started cussing. This coincides brutally with what I read today at Barnhardt, Briggs, Porretto, JM Smith at the Orthosphere, and our pal Vox. Catching a glimpse of the depth of this insane evil makes the bottom fall out of my gut. This satanic tyranny is global, and we will not see the end of it in our lifetime. It’s dispiriting as hell. I’m old. Not going to be around all that much longer. I should not be glad about that, but I am.
JWM
I only watched 11 seconds, I think people who feel they need to tell everyone how NOT normal they are, are just oppositional defiant or anti social, angry souls who probably had the misfortune to grow up with bad parents, and so they think society is bad and they have to oppose it. It’s a shame
THIS. I’d feel sorry for most of the folks in that video, if they didn’t have such an outsized influence on our national culture and dialogue.
Odysee has been hosting a series of 10 to 15 minute videos titled “Good Morning Clown World” and there’s currently 40 of them. I’ve watched several and every one of them are excellent by displaying this Zombie world being imposed upon us all.
https://odysee.com/@JWild:6/Good-Morning-Clown-World-Vol-35:0
What a world we live in, today! It takes some guts to face it daily. Glad I’m not face to face with people very often; I’m sure my impulsive side would get me in deep doo-doo and frequently!
Gerard, a great change of pace. From freaks to the normal. At approximately 11 minutes a woman commentator exposed the hypocrisy of the press regarding Covid and Colin Powells death——-. Enjoyed it. Thanks
My takeaway always from these demented, self indulgent videos is that they’re all weirdos desperate for attention and that they can barely contain their anger at themselves and society. And it seems that the CCP’s Tik Tok spyware app is their preferred means of expression so you just know Chicoms are thrilled to death this American cultural rot is being accelerated by their evil technology. On purpose. By design.
I am nothing but a river from my people and hence top my people.
Auda abu Tayi from “Lawrence of Arabia”?
Stop me before I reference again.
No.
Help me obi-wan, you’re my only hope.
I suspect that the world has always been as messed up as it is today, if not more so. It’s just that now every weirdo, degenerate, and fruit loop dingus can film themselves and share it instantaneously. Glad that they included the cute parts with the kids and puppies.
I seen ’em…
“The melon head stories of Ohio are primarily associated with the Cleveland suburb of Kirtland. According to local lore, the melon heads were originally orphans under the watch of a mysterious figure known as Dr. Crow (sometimes spelled Crowe, Krohe or Kroh or known as Dr. Melonhead[6]). Crow is said to have performed unusual experiments on the children, who developed large, hairless heads and malformed bodies.[7] Some accounts claim that the children were already suffering from hydrocephalus and that Crow injected even more fluid into their brains.[6]
Eventually, the legend continues, the children killed Crow, burned the orphanage, and retreated to the surrounding forests and supposedly feed on babies. Legend holds that the melon heads may be sighted along Wisner Road in Kirtland, and Chardon Township.[7][8] The melon head legend has been popularized on the Internet, particularly on the websites Creepy Cleveland and DeadOhio, where users offer their own versions of the story.[9] A movie, “Legend of the Melonheads”, released in 2010, is based on the Ohio legend and various other legends in the Kirtland area.[1o]”
bottom of Wisner Rd at the river, site of the old springs, now no longer running.