WHEN in the course of human Events, it becomes necessary….
Welcome to the New American Digest: 2003-2020
“This is my letter to the world….”
Real World Address
Only by Fire is Fascism Finished
Year upon year in Earth’s darker forests,
Heaped at the foot of the trees,
Dry drifts of wood rot and leaf fall increase
Which sunlight shall never seize.
The vampire by sunlight or stake.
The wolfman by silver in bone.
The demon by bell, book, and pentagram.
The fascist by fire alone.
The ash that descends in the September skies
Where the leapers swam down the stones?
Best answered by bombs from mid-heaven at prayer
With that fire which hollows the bones.
The vampire by sunlight or stake.
The wolfman by silver in bone.
The demon by bell, book, and pentagram.
The fascist by fire alone.
If their god decrees war, God’s war shall prevail.
His lessons are seared in His stone.
No dreams shall defer, nor wishes erase,
The answers that burn in the bone.
The vampire by sunlight or stake.
The wolfman by silver in bone.
The demon by bell, book, and pentagram.
The fascist by fire alone.
Only by Fire is Fascism Finished.
This Sin is demanded that Your Line may Live.
Only through Fire is Freedom Reborn.
Each generation pulls the Sword from the Stone.
— Van der Leun
A pick to dig out and a lantern to find honest men
Your Say
- Anonymous on Spector
- Joyful on As the “Just for 2 Weeks” Year Wanes the Days Are Mist and the Nights Are Slate.
- Sixtyville on The Maxims and Morals of Happy Acres
- H-A on The Maxims and Morals of Happy Acres
- julie on As the “Just for 2 Weeks” Year Wanes the Days Are Mist and the Nights Are Slate.
- james wilson on The Maxims and Morals of Happy Acres
- jwm on As the “Just for 2 Weeks” Year Wanes the Days Are Mist and the Nights Are Slate.
- Skorpion on Spector
- James O'Neil on San Francisco: The Holy City of Progressivism
- ghostsniper on As the “Just for 2 Weeks” Year Wanes the Days Are Mist and the Nights Are Slate.
- captflee on San Francisco: The Holy City of Progressivism
- Gordon Scott on Spector
- jwm on The Maxims and Morals of Happy Acres
- Anonymous on San Francisco: The Holy City of Progressivism
- Sam L. on San Francisco: The Holy City of Progressivism
- EX-Californian Pete on New York, New York: Prog Heaven on the Hudson
- Kevin in PA on As the “Just for 2 Weeks” Year Wanes the Days Are Mist and the Nights Are Slate.
- jwm on As the “Just for 2 Weeks” Year Wanes the Days Are Mist and the Nights Are Slate.
- Anonymous on New York, New York: Prog Heaven on the Hudson
- gwbnyc on New York, New York: Prog Heaven on the Hudson
ARTIST: CASEY KLAHN
My Back Pages
- The Maxims and Morals of Happy Acres
- Spector
- As the “Just for 2 Weeks” Year Wanes the Days Are Mist and the Nights Are Slate.
- New York, New York: Prog Heaven on the Hudson
- San Francisco: The Holy City of Progressivism
- The City of Political Distinction by Ambrose Bierce
- Strange Daze
- “For my purpose holds…”
- The Pretender by Jackson Browne
- Strange Daze Illustrated
- Boomer Ballads: Sailing
- Strange Daze
- Something Wonderful: The Sound of Silence
- Riding in the Storm: “There was something furtive and broken in the gesture.”
- Something Wonderful from the Start of the First Millennium
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Because the Holy Ghost over the bent World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings.
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Real World Address for Donations, Mash Notes and Hate Mail
Gerard Van der Leun
1692 MANGROVE AVE
APT 379
Chico, Ca 95926
Comments on this entry are closed.
Reminds me of that one time I almost forgot my beer at the bar…almost.
Thank heavens the little birdie saved his friend, the bunny from falling all the way to the ground. That would have hurt the bunny really bad.
Hopefully, that near miss will make the birdie think twice about taking his friend, the bunny, on a thrill ride like that
‘Twixt, short for betwixt. But you knew that, Gerard. 😉
Obviously the bird knew he was being watched, and was just showing off.
We have had, of late, a covey of quail visiting the the bird feeder on a daily basis, pecking and scratching at what falls to the ground. Mrs. was a town girl and gets quite excited to see any kind of critter, and seems especially taken with these little guys. They come running across the wretched piece of grass that passes for a lawn at our place, backbones straight up and down or nearly so, and clearly on a mission. You can’t help but smile at the little bastidges for their focus and apparent resolve, so maybe it’s not just Mrs. who gets excited to see them. Fifteen of them at last count.
Anyway, I was watching the covey peck away the other day when a hawk swept through low and fast and scattered them. It missed on the first past, with the air suddenly all a-cluttered with whirring balls of feathered fluff, and the hawk pulling G’s in a tight turn to circle back for the kill, but it missed again. It made another loop, but the little guys had vanished.
Mission failure. Score for the day was quail 15, hawk 0.
When you are completely and totally done for. No escaping…
Did you ever watch a cat with a mouse? This cat has wings!