How Donald Trump morphs into “worse than Hitler!”
![The Complete "Growl" [Because Now More Than Ever]](https://americandigest.org/wp/wp-content/uploads/2021/06/brainsinjar-150x150.jpg "The Complete \"Growl\" [Because Now More Than Ever]")
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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
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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.