How Donald Trump morphs into “worse than Hitler!”
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Home is where one starts from. As we grow older
The world becomes stranger, the pattern more complicated
Of dead and living. Not the intense moment
Isolated, with no before and after,
But a lifetime burning in every moment
And not the lifetime of one man only
But of old stones that cannot be deciphered.
There is a time for the evening under starlight,
A time for the evening under lamplight
(The evening with the photograph album).
Love is most nearly itself
When here and now cease to matter.
Old men ought to be explorers
Here or there does not matter
We must be still and still moving
Into another intensity
For a further union, a deeper communion
Through the dark cold and the empty desolation,
The wave cry, the wind cry, the vast waters
Of the petrel and the porpoise. In my end is my beginning.
When all Earth’s seas shall Levitate,
Dark shawled within the skies,
Upon our eyes will Starfish dance
Their waltz of Blind surprise.
The sun will Rise within wine Dark
As Argonauts imbibed,
Whose drunken arms embrace that sleep
Where Phaeton’s horses Stride.
Upon all of Earth’s wind-sanded shores,
As dolphins Learn to soar,
All we once were on the land
Shall be sealed behind the door
Of Ivory and Chastened Gold,
That the Mystery solved complete
Shall never til the seas’ Long fall
Wake mariners from their sleep.
— Van der Leun
I CELEBRATE myself, and sing myself,
And what I assume you shall assume,
For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.
I loafe and invite my soul,
I lean and loafe at my ease observing a spear of summer grass.
My tongue, every atom of my blood, form’d from this soil, this
air,
Born here of parents born here from parents the same, and their
parents the same,
I, now thirty-seven years old in perfect health begin,
Hoping to cease not till death.
— Walt Whitman
Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?
I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.
I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.
I do not think that they will sing to me.
I have seen them riding seaward on the waves
Combing the white hair of the waves blown back
When the wind blows the water white and black.
We have lingered in the chambers of the sea
By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown
Till human voices wake us, and we drown.
— The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock by T. S. Eliot
Gerard Van der Leun
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Most people like being in a group. In fact, they require it. If they found out they had been canceled from all groups they would panic. Put a “dem” in the middle of panic and you get pandemic, and look who’s driving the latest one. Right. dems. Cause they are manic. So, exchange the m with the n, then trade the n for a p, then plop a dem in the middle and you end up with pandemic, oh yeah, yank out the other m.
That’s why “avoiding crowds” is a rule, cause crowds are groups and groups lose their individuality and their ability to think properly, relying instead on a leader of any particular group to tell them what to think. The more groups you choose to belong to the more leaders that are telling you what to think and eventually you don’t think at all. The only venue you left is the cattle car, then the oven.
Ah, tribes, and our tribes will get along much like the Hutus and the Tsutsis.
While our overlords toast our stupidity.
Right, one step at a time. This got me to thinking about our current lockdown situation. We’ve been following all of the increasing draconian rules that began with avoiding crowds and now have us waiting outside of grocery stores six feet apart wearing face masks. And that got me thinking about this quote from L. Tolstoy in Anna Karenina, part 7, chapter 13:
“There are no conditions to which a man cannot become used, especially if he sees that all around him are living in the same way.”
For a look at how the structure and nature of social media creates this phenomenon:
https://slatestarcodex.com/2014/12/17/the-toxoplasma-of-rage/
It’s been an interesting voyage of discovery watching Tim Pool slowly taking the red pill.
@ Harry…. Tolstoy is SO contemporary to read… and what he said… I can’t get used to it. I haven’t worn a mask yet. A friend gave me one… across the front is printed, “TRUMP 2020 Keep America Great.” I think if I put this on I’ll get punched in the mouth. So far nobody has commanded me to wear a mask. I am deeply disappointed by humanity. I knew there were snowflakes everywhere, but now they wear it on their sleeves… and across their mugs. Disgusting.
I swore off the stuff many years ago, but you surely need to send our host some of whatever you’re smoking. It’s gotta be real good. LOL
“Right. dems. Cause they are manic. So, exchange the m with the n, then trade the n for a p, then plop a dem in the middle and you end up with pandemic, oh yeah, yank out the other m. ”
manic –> namic –> pamic –> pamdemic –> pademic? or pademic?
I’m old enough to remember movie theaters with the smoking section in the balcony and, during the intermission between features, an audience singalong with follow the bouncing ball on the screen.
That’s the world today, sans smoking section, & though the songs are senseless; “Orange Man Bad!”, “If it saves the life of one sea turtle…”, “Religion of Peace!”, “Huddle in place!”, -most folks sing along.