Tommy Duncan I didn’t watch so don’t know if you are right or wrong, but I think it’s cute that you think you live in a country where that matters and misleading photos don’t. Memes, selective editing, misleading photos, and false attributions are the *only* things that matter now.
What about “California”? Look at the origins of that. #RenameCalifornia
I think now is the time to push a Glenn Reynolds's idea about ending the Ivy League . Tax their endowment unless they spend it on tuition grants at some high % per year.
The heat folded in an airless layer. So you see my seeming arctic heart How foolish this tearful child and babbling eye Which is drunk and staggers, Broken below your stairs.
We never could lift up our waxen wings Or lifted did not the hateful, burning accident Dissolve then drown its flesh? You and I Adrift among the pillared trees, Charred in our two dreams wary sleep. We float on the lazy but then unstoppable streams.
So, to be left in the arctic land, Here, where the bell broods hollow. Among the clattering ice Of your eyes dream Never where we so formed Nor oned like our lips seal.
Then darling (you permit me thus?) I have fought the darker things That instant light extinguished, That here with fortune rise. And age but the second tide. Oh, perhaps sensed beneath the skin Youths wild but aesthetic bone.
Then how we might laugh, how dream As the tedium formed stalagmites Count our mortality. Blushes for the flesh And a pointed limestone world.
Yes. But love? Words that patter on the floor: It will not utter, it will not speak, disclose. Our memory will blow like dust in the common wind, Absorbed in a million pores it will forget itself.
.II.
I have fought this long hard day to contain you But you where ever braver than I: Will I always, thus, fall under your hammer Auctioned at the obscurest price?
And how, then, do the ages tell You from your dalliance, Those ages that could never tell Old bones from new dust.
And how then, pray, will you find A companionable skeleton There for me to commune Through it’s blown skin ribs?
.III.
Our talk has a fungal form Or metaphysic and directed down From some ill hell it wiry swells Like creeping ivy through the gloom. Sad and distempered a fiery rage Infects its veins and illuminates A wistful steam that pales the face.
And, how, across this space, That when I look stretches dizzy, As if with ambition coils the Earth, Can we again drown the cold In ignorant passion? Our desires recoil and wrap In frigid, spiritful fire Till love is all but a little, Indistinguishable, sanctuary flame For how long burning?
If the branches here do touch Can the steal there then melt? And, if inflamed, would you despise The uncontrolled, fast beating heart Or, then, mourn ices wavering Or unwished loss of our loved Stone, statuesque, seeming godhead?
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9 comments:
I see Drudge has some fake news in the form of a carefully timed rally photo from a carefully selected angle.
Trump lifted America out of its stupor last night. His energy, comic timing and delivery were epic. His positive message is what America needs.
Losing respect for Taleb https://kenblogic.blogspot.com/2020/06/losing-respect-for-taleb.html
Tommy Duncan
I didn’t watch so don’t know if you are right or wrong, but I think it’s cute that you think you live in a country where that matters and misleading photos don’t. Memes, selective editing, misleading photos, and false attributions are the *only* things that matter now.
This will be my last visit to this blog. Moderation, done at a snail's pace, has ruined it. I'll stick with Instapundit. Adios.
Love the angles. That little puff of wind on the water disrupted the ripple pattern enough to keep your eyeballs from leaving the picture
Princeton did not admit blacks until 1969.
#CancelPrinceton
Yale is named for a slave trader.
#CanceYale
The priests who ran Georgetown sold slaves.
#CancelGeorgetown
Harvard owned slaves.
#CancelHarvard
Columbia is named for Christopher Columbus.
#CancelColumbia
Brown was a slave trader.
#CancelBrown
Stanford was a racist.
#CancelStanford
UVa was founded by a slave owner.
#CancelVirginia
GWU is named for a racist.
#CanceGWU
Ohio State is located in a city named for Columbus.
#CancelOSU
More examples to follow.
Suggestions appreciated.
Dramatic. Looks more to me like a sunset. Great range of colors.
What about “California”? Look at the origins of that. #RenameCalifornia
I think now is the time to push a Glenn Reynolds's idea about ending the Ivy League . Tax their endowment unless they spend it on tuition grants at some high % per year.
And definitely RenameYale
The Apology.
.I.
The heat folded in an airless layer.
So you see my seeming arctic heart
How foolish this tearful child and babbling eye
Which is drunk and staggers,
Broken below your stairs.
We never could lift up our waxen wings
Or lifted did not the hateful, burning accident
Dissolve then drown its flesh? You and I
Adrift among the pillared trees,
Charred in our two dreams wary sleep.
We float on the lazy but then unstoppable streams.
So, to be left in the arctic land,
Here, where the bell broods hollow.
Among the clattering ice
Of your eyes dream
Never where we so formed
Nor oned like our lips seal.
Then darling (you permit me thus?)
I have fought the darker things
That instant light extinguished,
That here with fortune rise.
And age but the second tide.
Oh, perhaps sensed beneath the skin
Youths wild but aesthetic bone.
Then how we might laugh, how dream
As the tedium formed stalagmites
Count our mortality.
Blushes for the flesh
And a pointed limestone world.
Yes. But love? Words that patter on the floor:
It will not utter, it will not speak, disclose.
Our memory will blow like dust in the common wind,
Absorbed in a million pores it will forget itself.
.II.
I have fought this long hard day to contain you
But you where ever braver than I:
Will I always, thus, fall under your hammer
Auctioned at the obscurest price?
And how, then, do the ages tell
You from your dalliance,
Those ages that could never tell
Old bones from new dust.
And how then, pray, will you find
A companionable skeleton
There for me to commune
Through it’s blown skin ribs?
.III.
Our talk has a fungal form
Or metaphysic and directed down
From some ill hell it wiry swells
Like creeping ivy through the gloom.
Sad and distempered a fiery rage
Infects its veins and illuminates
A wistful steam that pales the face.
And, how, across this space,
That when I look stretches dizzy,
As if with ambition coils the Earth,
Can we again drown the cold
In ignorant passion?
Our desires recoil and wrap
In frigid, spiritful fire
Till love is all but a little,
Indistinguishable, sanctuary flame
For how long burning?
If the branches here do touch
Can the steal there then melt?
And, if inflamed, would you despise
The uncontrolled, fast beating heart
Or, then, mourn ices wavering
Or unwished loss of our loved
Stone, statuesque, seeming godhead?
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