WHEN in the course of human Events, it becomes necessary….
![That Was the Whopper Weekend That Was [Illustrated]](https://americandigest.org/wp/wp-content/uploads/2021/05/welcometohell-150x150.jpg "That Was the Whopper Weekend That Was [Illustrated]")
Welcome to the New American Digest: 2003-2020
Gerard Van der Leun
Through the wild cathedral evening the rain unraveled tales
For the disrobed faceless forms of no position
Tolling for the tongues with no place to bring their thoughts
All down in taken-for-granted situations
Tolling for the deaf an’ blind, tolling for the mute
Tolling for the mistreated, mateless mother, the mistitled prostitute
For the misdemeanor outlaw, chased an’ cheated by pursuit
An’ we gazed upon the chimes of freedom flashing
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
— Bob Dylan
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.
Comments on this entry are closed.
Never been much of restaurant person in the first place, maybe 5-6 times a year, usually the sit down variety (Applebee’s, Roadhouse, etc.), and have not been to one since Feb of 2020. Now, in light of all the idiocy, regardless of their reasons, I will probably not set foot in one again. You’ve heard of the “shedding” thing, right? That, plus, I see no need to reward assholes. Besides, the grub I fix here at the crib blows away ANYTHING out there regardless of price. And, the hygiene in the food prep here in the compound is unquestionable. Look at the people that work in the food joints, filthy, tatted up (hep C), misfits, and negro’s and every other vermin. I wouldn’t let these people mow my yard let alone touch my food. The very idea gives me the heebie jeebies. Over and fucking out.
My wife and I have a place that lures us in on Sunday for lunch and the food is great and the restaurant is run correctly. But you’re right, esp in regard to the types that work in most food joints….some very nasty, ass scratching MFs of every description.
I haven’t been to a restaurant in years. In fact, I cannot remember when was the last time. (Maybe it was a Chinese joint over on the northwest side of Oklahoma City ten years ago.) My own cooking is gourmet and just the way I want it—and there is no lisping and effeminate waiter scurrying here and there. And no tip is necessary—although any guests must bring the booze.
There is an entire cottage industry developed around restaurant workers and owners complaining and commiserating on YouTube about how bad their lives are during the “pandemic”. Truly, misery loves company. Most of these videos originate in—you guessed it—San Francisco, New York City and the tonier parts of big Democrat run cities. Gosh, I wonder how those restaurant folks got in such financial trouble? The irony of the answer escapes them. They complain about the actions of those they themselves put into political office. Democrat restaurant owner, meet Democrat politician. Now, wear your mask, get the “vaccine”, ridicule the “unvaxxed” and head for the unemployment office.
I hear that McDonald’s is hiring. After all you poor things, “you deserve a break today.”
I learned from a sibling in an unspoken city that a number of restaurants have gone moveable and secret. If you are on their wait lists, you will get a location and time to show up. Business is booming. No masks, no passports, no rents, no taxation. Democrats have ruined their blue cities by punishing the producers of wealth.
Such restaurants are like the true Catholic Churches in China. Or as Hemmingway would say, “a moveable feast”.
Well, I just got back from my Friday evening stroll around Bay Ridge Brooklyn (NYC),
and I can report that the streets were packed, and the restaurants were full. Dozens of restaurants, from low-end to chi-chi, full of mostly unmasked diners, both indoors and in the outdoor seating (the outdoor seating is jerry-rigged platforms in the street, where there used to be parking spots; after a year of this madness, many of the outdoor platforms have planters full of flowers, and decorations, heating systems etc.. The traffic is slow enough that they don’t have to worry too much about getting mowed down by a truck whizzing by. The Kettle Black (third ave and 87th) has a sign in their window, to the effect of “we’re not vaccine police, we not enforcing anything”; most other restaurants still have their “No Entry Without Masks” signs in the windows.