Sunday, March 1, 2020

Mad-eyed from Stating the Obvious

When I said to my aunt at lunch yesterday at the *excellent* Thai House on Snouffer School that the only Democrat who can beat Trump is Sanders I had just seen the CNN chryon equating Sanders to coronavirus because Jews poisoning gentiles



  • me, hurtling (bigger at other place)
  • I meant no more than no one is beating Trump
  • I know some of you think I'm nuts but I am telling you three times our sociopath overlords will murder Sanders before the election if necessary
  • It won't be necessary. I hope I'm wrong
  • Flood the zone with shit
  • Monetizing the pandemic
  • Sanders' enemies
  • are dishonest dipshits
  • Where's the Savior
  • Swinging the vote
  • Your future: replaced and/or surveilled  
  • Imagine ever believing capitalist promises 
  • New York Review of Books' designated liberal columnist on the Democratic Party on its current status
  • Here is a clearer, cleaner, more concise take on the status of the Democratic Party: The sad reality is older Democrats got what they wanted under Obama, a President who protected their home equity and/or moral vanity. They want him back. It’s just selfishness at work. Clear-cutting the future so they can burn more coal.
  • She is soooo running to be Biden's running-mate 
  • She will not be Biden's running-mate 
  • To be assanged
  • My aunt was amused by me and my two by same parents Berniebros and our Sanders and Bernienthusiam for gulags
  • Avedon Carol's occasional links
  • On William Gibson and the coming apocalypse (I will read the new one)
  • { feuilleton }'s weekend links (w Mazzy Star) 
  • Chopin born 210 years ago today, Wilbur born 99 years ago today (he does still appear overnights now and then, did you see one February past?)




                 
ADVICE TO A PROPHET

Richard Wilbur

When you come, as you soon must, to the streets of our city,   
Mad-eyed from stating the obvious,
Not proclaiming our fall but begging us
In God’s name to have self-pity,
 
Spare us all word of the weapons, their force and range,   
The long numbers that rocket the mind;
Our slow, unreckoning hearts will be left behind,   
Unable to fear what is too strange.
 
Nor shall you scare us with talk of the death of the race.   
How should we dream of this place without us?—
The sun mere fire, the leaves untroubled about us,   
A stone look on the stone’s face?
 
Speak of the world’s own change. Though we cannot conceive   
Of an undreamt thing, we know to our cost
How the dreamt cloud crumbles, the vines are blackened by frost,   
How the view alters. We could believe,
 
If you told us so, that the white-tailed deer will slip   
Into perfect shade, grown perfectly shy,
The lark avoid the reaches of our eye,
The jack-pine lose its knuckled grip
 
On the cold ledge, and every torrent burn
As Xanthus once, its gliding trout
Stunned in a twinkling. What should we be without   
The dolphin’s arc, the dove’s return,
 
These things in which we have seen ourselves and spoken?   
Ask us, prophet, how we shall call
Our natures forth when that live tongue is all
Dispelled, that glass obscured or broken
 
In which we have said the rose of our love and the clean   
Horse of our courage, in which beheld
The singing locust of the soul unshelled,
And all we mean or wish to mean.
 
Ask us, ask us whether with the worldless rose   
Our hearts shall fail us; come demanding   
Whether there shall be lofty or long standing   
When the bronze annals of the oak-tree close.

4 comments:

  1. speaking of william gibson, i was reading about wytheville, va, where he spent much of his childhood, and encountered the concept of the wrong-way concurrency - the example given is a stretch of road i drove up and down a couple of dozen times during the twentieth century

    For example, near Wytheville, Virginia, there is a concurrency between I-77 (which runs primarily north–south, as it is signed) and Interstate 81 (which runs primarily northeast–southwest, but is also signed north–south). Because of the way they intersect, the section of Interstate where they overlap has the two roads signed for opposite directions, leading to the town's nickname of "Which-Way-Ville". One might simultaneously be on I-77 northbound and I-81 southbound, while actually traveling due westbound.

    https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Concurrency_(road)#Wrong-way_concurrencies

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. One might simultaneously be on I-77 northbound and I-81 southbound, while actually traveling due westbound.



      One might simultaneously be on I-77 northbound and I-81 southbound, while actually traveling due westbound.


      Delete
  2. First time I've noticed quoted in the preludes.

    ReplyDelete
  3. If you lived on a peninsula that wasn't quite aligned with north and south, well you'd find that east could be south and west could be north, or you just might give it up as a bad job altogether.

    That's too bad about Buttigieg because if he was nominated we'd have a tRUMP running against a BUTTigieg.

    ReplyDelete