And now for something completely different.
I’m donepic.twitter.com/mO3DbKHxbM
— Old Holborn✘ (@Holbornlolz) June 9, 2019
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
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
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.
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
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
Gerard Van der Leun
Comments on this entry are closed.
Happy acres should have this. Bet he will, soon.
JWM
There’s sumo wrestling and now there’s sambo wrestling.
Bulk lives matter!
Get. That. Bee-Itch!
The black underclass is the greatest threat to this country. The Russians, Chinese, and Progressive Democrats come in a distant second.
Besides the ongoing, inherent violence there is the fact that they are parasites, completely dependent on White charity (welfare) and incapable of performing productive labor in a modern society. They were bought and bred to do manual labor as slaves, and that is what they are.
“…completely dependent on White charity…”
=========
I’d change that to charity in general, but yeah, cut the charity and in short order the parasites would self extinguish (they require hosts in order to survive). All of the productive people have been heavily penalized by the massive dead weight of induced and inherent parasitism.
“Git ‘tat beech, git ‘tat beech…”
Tommy Sotomayor would have something funny to say about that. Except it isn’t funny.
The family queen tried to quench the fire with an outrageous maneuver. Made it worse and it is embarrassing to watch.
Drama. Histrionics. Unbridled swings of emotion. Like what you see in a 2 year-old.
And ghost, Sykes, are exactly correct.
Gold star to Jewel for the Bulk comment.
The participants are not even aware that they should be embarrassed by such behavior. There is no fixing that mess.
Certainly the reason the book, The Bell Curve: Intelligence and Class Structure in American Life, was so controversial and denounced was because it was correct. Also applicable vis a vis the video is the legal maxim: The matter speaks for itself.
Robert Sykes, you nailed it but there is so much more that can be said about this subhuman race. In a perfect world all of them would still be pulling cotton or pushing up daisies, and with no exceptions.
Sad to say fellow posters, but if your source of pride is, if you want to be judged by, the color of your skin, irregardless of your age, you’ve a hell of a lot of growing up to do.
I believe this one falls into “Content of character” rather than “color (or massive quantity) of skin”.
JWM
Sergeant Lipids of the Last Armored Division ought to attach a slob catcher to that chair. “Mobile African Shine Dispersal Unit.”
But…but…but…
“Diversity is our strength!”
OR
“I want to live in a country where the poor people are FAT!”
_____________________
Can’t decide which is more apropos/sardonic!
Jimin and jwm, I’m going to essentially let your idealistic comments pass without chiding you for your complete lack of knowledge or understanding about 99% of this nation’s blacks because I know that you don’t know jack shit when it comes to the subject.
My suggestion: Move to Memphis or Chicago, Detroit or Baltimore and troll your love for these pavement apes. The Gangster Disciples or some element of the Hoover Crips will be delighted to expose you to their tender mercies.
And, btw, “irregardless” isn’t a recognized term in correct English.
Uh- Jack-
How does noting the utter lack of character displayed by these lard-apes fall under the heading of virtue signalling? Just in case the subtle sneaked by you, I was chiding Jim in Alaska. Just a bit.
JWM