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HOW TRUMP STEERED SUPPORTERS into UNWITTING DONATIONS
- Online donors were guided into weekly recurring contributions. Demands for refunds spiked.
- Complaints to banks and credit card companies soared.
- But the money helped keep Donald Trump’s struggling campaign afloat.
By Shane Goldmacher
Stacy Blatt was in hospice care last September listening to Rush Limbaugh’s dire warnings about how badly Donald J. Trump’s campaign needed money when he went online and chipped in everything he could: $500.
It was a big sum for a 63-year-old battling cancer and living in Kansas City on less than $1,000 per month. But that single contribution — federal records show it was his first ever — quickly multiplied. Another $500 was withdrawn the next day, then $500 the next week and every week through mid-October, without his knowledge — until Mr. Blatt’s bank account had been depleted and frozen. When his utility and rent payments bounced, he called his brother, Russell, for help.
What the Blatts soon discovered was $3,000 in withdrawals by the Trump campaign in less than 30 days. They called their bank and said they thought they were victims of fraud.
“It felt,” Russell said, “like it was a scam.”
But what the Blatts believed was duplicity was actually an intentional scheme to boost revenues by the Trump campaign and the for-profit company that processed its online donations, WinRed. Facing a cash crunch and getting badly outspent by the Democrats, the campaign had begun last September to set up recurring donations by default for online donors, for every week until the election.
Contributors had to wade through a fine-print disclaimer and manually uncheck a box to opt out.
As the election neared, the Trump team made that disclaimer increasingly opaque, an investigation by The New York Times showed. It introduced a second prechecked box, known internally as a “money bomb,” that doubled a person’s contribution. Eventually its solicitations featured lines of text in bold and capital letters that overwhelmed the opt-out language.
The tactic ensnared scores of unsuspecting Trump loyalists — retirees, military veterans, nurses and even experienced political operatives. Soon, banks and credit card companies were inundated with fraud complaints from the president’s own supporters about donations they had not intended to make, sometimes for thousands of dollars.
“Bandits!” said Victor Amelino, a 78-year-old Californian, who made a $990 online donation to Mr. Trump in early September via WinRed. It recurred seven more times — adding up to almost $8,000. “I’m retired. I can’t afford to pay all that damn money.”
The sheer magnitude of the money involved is staggering for politics. In the final two and a half months of 2020, the Trump campaign, the Republican National Committee and their shared accounts issued more than 530,000 refunds worth $64.3 million to online donors. All campaigns make refunds for various reasons, including to people who give more than the legal limit. But the sum the Trump operation refunded dwarfed that of Joseph R. Biden Jr.’s campaign and his equivalent Democratic committees, which made 37,000 online refunds totaling $5.6 million in that time.
The recurring donations swelled Mr. Trump’s treasury in September and October, just as his finances were deteriorating. He was then able to use tens of millions of dollars he raised after the election, under the guise of fighting his unfounded fraud claims, to help cover the refunds he owed.
In effect, the money that Mr. Trump eventually had to refund amounted to an interest-free loan from unwitting supporters at the most important juncture of the 2020 race.
Marketers have long used ruses like prechecked boxes to steer American consumers into unwanted purchases, like magazine subscriptions. But consumer advocates said deploying the practice on voters in the heat of a presidential campaign — at such volume and with withdrawals every week — had much more serious ramifications.
“It’s unfair, it’s unethical and it’s inappropriate,” said Ira Rheingold, the executive director of the National Association of Consumer Advocates.
Harry Brignull, a user-experience designer in London who coined the term “dark patterns” for manipulative digital marketing practices, said the Trump team’s techniques were a classic of the “deceptive design” genre.
“It should be in textbooks of what you shouldn’t do,” he said.
Political strategists, digital operatives and campaign finance experts said they could not recall ever seeing refunds at such a scale. Mr. Trump, the R.N.C. and their shared accounts refunded far more money to online donors in the last election cycle than every federal Democratic candidate and committee in the country combined.
Over all, the Trump operation refunded 10.7 percent of the money it raised on WinRed in 2020; the Biden operation’s refund rate on ActBlue, the parallel Democratic online donation-processing platform, was 2.2 percent, federal records show.
Several bank representatives who fielded fraud claims directly from consumers estimated that WinRed cases, at their peak, represented as much as 1 to 3 percent of their workload. An executive for one of the nation’s larger credit-card issuers confirmed that WinRed at its height accounted for a similar percentage of its formal disputes.
That figure may seem small at first glance, but financial experts said it was a shockingly large percentage, considering that political donations represent a tiny fraction of the overall United States economy.
In its investigation, The Times reviewed filings with the Federal Election Commission from the Trump and Biden campaigns and their shared accounts with political parties, as well as the donation-processing sites ActBlue and WinRed, compiling a database of refunds issued by day. The Times also interviewed two dozen Trump donors who made recurring donations, as well as campaign officials, campaign finance experts and consumer advocates. Nearly a dozen bank and credit card officials from the nation’s leading financial institutions spoke for this article on the condition of anonymity to discuss internal matters.
A clear pattern emerged. Donors typically said they intended to give once or twice and only later discovered on their bank statements and credit card bills that they were donating over and over again. Some, like Mr. Blatt, who died of cancer in February, sought an injunction from their banks and credit cards. Others pursued refunds directly from WinRed, which typically granted them to avoid more costly formal disputes.
WinRed said that every donor receives at least one follow-up email about pending repeat donations in advance and that the company makes it “exceptionally easy,” with 24-hour customer service, for people to request their money back. “WinRed wants donors to be happy, and puts a premium on customer support,” said Gerrit Lansing, WinRed’s president. “Donors are the lifeblood of G.O.P. campaigns.” He noted that Democrats and ActBlue had also used recurring programs.
Jason Miller, a spokesman for Mr. Trump, downplayed the rash of fraud complaints and the $122.7 million in total refunds issued by the Trump operation. He said internal records showed that 0.87 percent of its WinRed transactions had been subject to formal credit card disputes. “The fact we had a dispute rate of less than 1 percent of total donations despite raising more grass-roots money than any campaign in history is remarkable,” he said.
That still amounts to about 200,000 disputed transactions that Mr. Miller said added up to $19.7 million.
“Our campaign was built by the hardworking men and women of America,” Mr. Miller said, “and cherishing their investments was paramount to anything else we did.”
Asked if Mr. Trump had been aware of his operation’s use of recurring payments, the campaign did not respond.
Mr. Trump’s hyperaggressive fund-raising practices did not stop once he lost the election. His campaign continued the weekly withdrawals through prechecked boxes all the way through Dec. 14 as he raised tens of millions of dollars for his new political action committee, Save America.
In March, Mr. Trump urged his followers to send their money to him — and not to the traditional party apparatus — making plain that he intends to remain the gravitational center of Republican fund-raising online.
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Given the recent attempts to characterize Trump's assault on the American people election as an example of CANCEL CULTURE let's lay out some actual examples of illiberal ostracism from this week's news:
- from The NEW YORKER:
- San Francisco’s Board of Education voted, 6–1, to change the names of forty-four schools, including schools named after Abraham Lincoln and George Washington. A committee formed by the board in 2018, in the wake of the white-supremacist rally in Charlottesville, had determined that any figures who “engaged in the subjugation and enslavement of human beings; or who oppressed women, inhibiting societal progress; or whose actions led to genocide; or who otherwise significantly diminished the opportunities of those amongst us to the right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness,” should no longer have schools named after them and had recommended which names should be changed. Washington’s name was struck because he held slaves, Lincoln’s because of his policies toward Native Americans. Senator Dianne Feinstein’s name will be removed from a school, owing to the decision, when she was San Francisco’s mayor, in the nineteen-eighties, to replace a Confederate flag that was part of a Civic Center display and had been taken down by a protester. (A spokesperson for Feinstein said that the city’s parks department replaced the flag “on its own accord.” She later had it replaced with a Union flag.) Some of the committee’s recommendations have received more criticism than others: Paul Revere Elementary School will be renamed because of his role in the Penobscot Expedition of 1779, an assault on a British fort that the committee claimed, incorrectly, was intended to colonize the Penobscot people.
- from FOX NEWS:
- Actor Gina Carano of Lucasfilm's 'The Mandalorian' at the Disney+ Global Press Day on October 19, 2019 in Los Angeles, California. Lucasfilm announced Wednesday she is 'not currently employed' by the company following backlash she received for controversial tweets. (Alberto E. Rodriguez/Getty Images for Disney)
- "Really sad about @ginacarano not being in @themandalorian anymore, I really liked Cara Dune, she was so bada--, but I’m utterly disappointed to find out she’s an anti-masker, alt-righter, q-anoner, transphobic Trump supporter??! Girl... WTF," one person tweeted.
- "Also Gina Carano was fortunate to not be fired for a LOT of the other things she said previously. I would be fired from my job if I said some of those things! Being famous doesn't make you untouchable, or at least it shouldn't," another Twitter user reacted.
- "People defending #GinaCarano need to have a word with themselves. Stop defending people being racist. Racism is racism. It's rather telling that she deleted the tweets," another person said.
- One person labeled Carano as a "white supremacist" and argued Disney+ and Lucasfilm can fire whomever they want because they are private companies. "If they do not want a white supremacist/anti-semitic person working 4 them, they can take appropriate measures 2 remove that person from their payroll. #GinaCarano must learn words & actions have consequences. If not, oh well," the person said.
- Lucasfilm confirmed Wednesday Carano is 'not currently employed' by the company amid backlash she received on social media. The #CancelDisneyPlus hashtag picked up steam Wednesday night into Thursday morning. Some social media users shared proof they had begun canceling their Disney+ subscriptions. "I am tired of mob rule and cancel culture," one person tweeted. Others called for Disney+ to be canceled by arguing that Carano's tweets weren't insensitive. Twitter was ablaze with criticism against Gina Carano this week, with the hashtag #FireGinaCarano trending before Disney+ came under fire once it was revealed she's no longer employed by Lucasfilm.
- According to Variety, the backlash against Carano, 38, began when she shared a message on the social media platform in which she compared today's political divide to the events in Nazi Germany.
- "Jews were beaten in the streets, not by Nazi soldiers but by their neighbors…even by children. Because history is edited, most people today don’t realize that to get to the point where Nazi soldiers could easily round up thousands of Jews, the government first made their own neighbors hate them simply for being Jews. How is that any different from hating someone for their political views," read the post, which was originally composed by another account.
- A second post contained a photo of a person wearing cloth masks to cover their face and head with the caption: "Meanwhile in California." The outlet reports that both posts were removed from her Instagram by Wednesday afternoon. Others remained, however, including one that reportedly read, "Expecting everyone you encounter to agree with every belief or view you hold is f--king wild," as well as another that said, "Jeff Epstein didn’t kill himself."
- Carano played Cara Dune in seven episodes of "The Mandalorian" across its first two seasons in 2019 and 2020. She was rumored to be the center of the upcoming "Mandalorian" spin-off "Rangers of the New Republic" at Disney+, but Disney has not announced casting for the show.
- State Republican Parties censuring Republican politicians for condemning political violence by Republicans:
- Liz Cheney
- Ben Sasse
- Jeff Flake
- CIndy McCain
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Society
There's only six of them- all modern Democratic administrations. The great Robert Frost set the precedent and wrote an original work for Kennedy's inauguration but the sun shone down so brightly on that occasion that Frost could not make out his own words and switched to one of his tried and true (and memorized) favorites at the last second. That poem was:
The Gift Outright
The land was ours before we were the land’s.
She was our land more than a hundred years
Before we were her people. She was ours
In Massachusetts, in Virginia,
But we were England’s, still colonials,
Possessing what we still were unpossessed by,
Possessed by what we now no more possessed.
Something we were withholding made us weak
Until we found out that it was ourselves
We were withholding from our land of living,
And forthwith found salvation in surrender.
Such as we were we gave ourselves outright
(The deed of gift was many deeds of war)
To the land vaguely realizing westward,
But still unstoried, artless, unenhanced,
Such as she was, such as she would become.
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Inbound Senate Majority Leader Schumer:
What happened at the U.S. Capitol yesterday was an insurrection against the United States, incited by the president, this president should not hold office one day longer.
The quickest and most effective way — it can be done today — to remove this president from office would be for the vice president to immediately invoke the 25th Amendment. If the Vice President and the Cabinet refuse to stand up, Congress should reconvene to impeach the president.
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The ABOMINABLE SNOWMAN
I've never seen an abominable snowman,
I'm hoping not to see one,
I'm also hoping, if I do,
That it will be a wee one.
-Ogden Nash
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On the day of election, the conspiracy manufacturing project known as QAnon seems to have come to sharp end with the firing/quitting of 8chan/8kun's lone admin and now self-confessed son of Q, Ron Watkins. Watkins outed his father Jim as Q finishing his sign-off tweet with "fuck you, dad." That is, the one person best able to confirm that the person most suspected of being Q was actually Q finally confirmed the suspicions of many investigators on Nov 3rd. Q has been silent since and 8kun abandoned.
So we can now say with fair confidence that Q was not a highly placed Trump official with Q clearance rating but was in fact an amalgam of people including Coleman Rogers before The El Paso Walmart shooting and probably mostly just Jim Watkins after Q returned on 8chan/8kun. Watkins was an US Army Helicopter mechanic who made millions in the 90's by circumventing Asian porn restrictions on American hosts. Watkins has retained ownership of a large number of pedophile sites linked domain names, some for 30 years though he denies charges of child pornography or any profit by those domain names. Also, Watkins seem have been hosting the main QAnon merch site in spite of claims of non-affiliation as well as the server running the neo-Nazi site Daily Stormer in spite of claims of non-affiliation. Since early October, Russian cybersecurity has taken over security for these sites running on the old .su (Soviet Union) domain. Watkins in now in the US resisting Filipino extradition and speaking at Republican gatherings.
A month ago, 37% of Trump supporters found truth in QAnon's assertions that Trump was elected as a "savior figure" to root out a secret Satanic child-sex trafficking ring run by Democratic politicians and now the sole source for that claim turns out to be a rogue white supremacist pedopeddler who's theories have been self-servingly re-tweeted by the outbound President of the United States more than 250 times.
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A toast to Ragnar, who now boasts most votes posted. No service on DART is more necessary or better valued. Hail!
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DebateArt.com
1. Third base, Minute Maid Park
2. Kilauea lava fields
3. McMurdo Station, Ross Island
4. Central Park, New York
5. Anotonio Banderas' sun roof
6. Club Prive, Bellagio Hotel, Las Vegas
7. Kilimanjaro, Tanzania
8. Rock of Cashel, Ireland
9. Lover's Beach, Cabo San Lucas
10. Rancho Valencia Resort & Spa
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Personal
BREAKING:
WASHINGTON — President Trump said early Friday that he and the first lady have tested positive for the coronavirus, throwing the nation’s leadership into uncertainty and escalating the crisis posed by a pandemic that has already killed more than 207,000 Americans and devastated the economy.
“Tonight, @FLOTUS and I tested positive for COVID-19,” Mr. Trump wrote on Twitter. “We will begin our quarantine and recovery process immediately. We will get through this TOGETHER!” Mr. Trump received the test result after one of his closest advisers, Hope Hicks, became infected, bringing the virus into his inner circle and underscoring the difficulty of containing it even with the resources of a president. Mr. Trump has for months played down the severity of the virus and told a political dinner just Thursday night that “the end of the pandemic is in sight.”
Mr. Trump’s positive test result could pose immediate difficulties for the future of his campaign against former Vice President Joseph R. Biden Jr., his Democratic challenger, with just 33 days before the election on Nov. 3. Even if Mr. Trump, 74, remains asymptomatic, he will have to withdraw from the campaign trail and stay isolated in the White House for an unknown period of time. If he becomes sick, it could raise questions about whether he should remain on the ballot at all.
Even if he does not become seriously ill, the positive test could prove devastating to his political fortunes given his months of diminishing the seriousness of the pandemic even as the virus was still ravaging the country and killing about 1,000 more Americans every day. He has repeatedly predicted the virus “is going to disappear,” asserted that it was under control and insisted that the country was “rounding the corner” to the end of the crisis. He has scorned scientists, saying they were mistaken on the severity of the situation.
Mr. Trump has refused for months to wear a mask in public on all but a few occasions and repeatedly questioned their effectiveness while mocking Mr. Biden for wearing one. Trailing in the polls, the president in recent weeks increasingly held crowded campaign events in defiance of public health guidelines and sometimes state and local governments.
When he accepted the nomination on the final day of the Republican National Convention, he invited more than 1,000 supporters to the South Lawn of the White House and has held multiple rallies around the country since, often with hundreds and even thousands of people jammed into tight spaces, many if not most without masks.
A positive test will undercut his effort to change the subject away from a pandemic that polls show most Americans believe he has mishandled and onto political terrain he considers more favorable. Mr. Trump has sought to focus voter attention instead on violence in cities, his Supreme Court nomination, mail-in ballots and Mr. Biden’s relationship with liberals.
Aside from the campaign, the symbolism of an infected president could rattle governors and business owners trying to assess when and how to reopen or keep open shops, schools, parks, beaches, restaurants, factories and other workplaces. Eager to restore a semblance of normal life before the election, Mr. Trump has dismissed health concerns to demand that schools reopen, college football resume play and businesses resume full operation.
In his eighth decade of life, Mr. Trump belongs to the age category deemed most vulnerable to the virus. Eight out of every 10 deaths attributed to it in the United States have been among those 65 and older.
Mr. Trump has been resistant to permitting details of his health to be made public, raising questions about his overall condition. He made an unannounced trip in November to Walter Reed National Military Medical Center that prompted speculation that he had an undisclosed medical ailment, but the White House insisted that he simply underwent routine tests, without revealing what they were or what they showed.
But while Mr. Trump has been reported to have high cholesterol and tips the scale at 243 pounds, which is considered obese for his height, the president’s doctor pronounced Mr. Trump in “very good health” last year after his last full medical checkup. And, unlike many of those who have succumbed to the virus, he will have the best medical care available.
A variety of people around Mr. Trump were previously infected by the virus, including most recently Robert C. O’Brien, his national security adviser who had a mild case before returning to work in August. Others infected include Kimberly Guilfoyle, his son’s girlfriend; a White House valet; Katie Miller, Vice President Mike Pence’s press secretary; as well as some Secret Service agents, campaign advance workers and a Marine in the president’s helicopter unit. Herman Cain, a former Republican presidential candidate and political ally of Mr. Trump’s, died of the coronavirus in July after attending the president’s campaign rally in Tulsa, Okla., where Mr. Cain, like many in the arena, was seen not wearing a mask at least part of the time.
Mr. Trump has repeatedly expressed confidence in public about his own health, saying he was not concerned about being exposed despite his various close calls. “I’m on a stage that’s very far away, and so, I’m not at all concerned,” he said last month, brushing off worries about crowded rallies.
Behind the scenes, though, the self-described germophobe was angry in the spring that his valet, who is among those who serve him food, had not been wearing a mask before testing positive, according to people in touch with him. Mr. Trump privately expressed irritation with people who got too close to him.
According to the president, he began taking the hydroxychloroquine anti-malaria drug proactively around this time and later said it caused no adverse effects. In the days after Ms. Miller’s positive test, Mr. Pence opted to stay physically away from Mr. Trump to avoid a possible exposure, while three top public health officials, including Dr. Anthony S. Fauci, who is on the White House’s coronavirus task force, went into some form of self-quarantine.
The White House ordered some employees to work from home and those who came to work to wear masks except when sitting at their desks an appropriate distance from their colleagues. Just as Mr. Trump and Mr. Pence were being tested every day, those coming into proximity to them were subject to daily tests as well, while other White House employees had tests every several days. But those protocols were soon relaxed and most White House officials were rarely seen wearing masks, at least when the president was present.
While the coronavirus is much deadlier than the flu, the vast majority of people infected by it recover, especially if there is no underlying condition, but the threat climbs with age. If Mr. Trump becomes symptomatic, it could take him weeks to recover.
Under the 25th Amendment, a medically incapacitated president has the option of temporarily transferring power to the vice president and can reclaim his authority whenever he deems himself fit for duty.
Since the amendment was ratified in 1967, presidents have done so only three times. In 1985, President Ronald Reagan underwent a colonoscopy and briefly turned over power to Vice President George Bush, although he did not explicitly cite the amendment in doing so. President George W. Bush did invoke the amendment twice in temporarily turning over power to Vice President Dick Cheney during colonoscopies in 2002 and 2007.
Under the Presidential Succession Act, if both Mr. Trump and Mr. Pence were unable to serve, Speaker Nancy Pelosi of California would step in. In the spring, the White House said that it had no plan for such an eventuality. “That’s not even something that we’re addressing,” said Kayleigh McEnany, the White House press secretary. “We’re keeping the president healthy. We’re keeping the vice president healthy and, you know, they’re healthy at this moment and they’ll continue to be.”
There is a long history of presidents falling seriously ill while in office, including some afflicted during epidemics. George Washington was feared close to death amid an influenza epidemic during his second year, while Woodrow Wilson became sick during Paris peace talks after World War I with what some specialists and historians believe was the influenza that ravaged the world from 1918 through 1920.
Four presidents have died in office of natural causes: William Henry Harrison, Zachary Taylor, Warren G. Harding and Franklin D. Roosevelt, while Wilson endured a debilitating stroke and Dwight D. Eisenhower had a heart attack in his first term and a stroke in his second. Four others were assassinated in office: Abraham Lincoln, James A. Garfield, William McKinley and John F. Kennedy.
But such health crises in the White House have been rarer in recent times. Since Reagan was shot in 1981, no president has been known to confront a life-threatening condition while in office.
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Hi, my name is Brayden Harrington and I am 13 years old. And without Joe Biden I wouldn't be talking to you today.
About a few months ago I met him in New Hampshire. He told me that we were members of the same club: we stutter. It was really amazing to hear that someone like me became Vice President.
He told me about a book of poems by Yeats he would read out loud to practice. He showed me how he marks his addresses to make them easier to say out loud. So I did the same thing today.
And now I'm here talking to you today about the future, about our future. My family often says, “When the world feels better,” before talking about something normal, like going to the movies.
We all want the world to feel better. We need the world to feel better. I'm just a regular kid, and in a short amount of time Joe Biden made me more confident about something that's bothered me my whole life. Joe Biden cared.
Imagine what he could do for all of us. Kids like me are counting on you to elect someone we can all look up to, someone who cares, someone who will make our country and the world feel better. We're counting on you to elect Joe Biden.
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Politics
Good evening, everybody. As you've seen by now, this isn't a normal convention. It's not a normal time. So tonight, I want to talk as plainly as I can about the stakes in this election. Because what we do these next 76 days will echo through generations to come.
I'm in Philadelphia, where our Constitution was drafted and signed. It wasn't a perfect document. It allowed for the inhumanity of slavery and failed to guarantee women – and even men who didn't own property – the right to participate in the political process. But embedded in this document was a North Star that would guide future generations; a system of representative government – a democracy – through which we could better realize our highest ideals. Through civil war and bitter struggles, we improved this Constitution to include the voices of those who'd once been left out. And gradually, we made this country more just, more equal, and more free.
The one Constitutional office elected by all of the people is the presidency. So at minimum, we should expect a president to feel a sense of responsibility for the safety and welfare of all 330 million of us – regardless of what we look like, how we worship, who we love, how much money we have – or who we voted for.
But we should also expect a president to be the custodian of this democracy. We should expect that regardless of ego, ambition, or political beliefs, the president will preserve, protect, and defend the freedoms and ideals that so many Americans marched for and went to jail for; fought for and died for.
I have sat in the Oval Office with both of the men who are running for president. I never expected that my successor would embrace my vision or continue my policies. I did hope, for the sake of our country, that Donald Trump might show some interest in taking the job seriously; that he might come to feel the weight of the office and discover some reverence for the democracy that had been placed in his care.
But he never did. For close to four years now, he has shown no interest in putting in the work; no interest in finding common ground; no interest in using the awesome power of his office to help anyone but himself and his friends; no interest in treating the presidency as anything but one more reality show that he can use to get the attention he craves.
Donald Trump hasn't grown into the job because he can't. And the consequences of that failure are severe. 170,000 Americans dead. Millions of jobs gone while those at the top take in more than ever. Our worst impulses unleashed, our proud reputation around the world badly diminished, and our democratic institutions threatened like never before.
Now, I know that in times as polarized as these, most of you have already made up your mind. But maybe you're still not sure which candidate you'll vote for – or whether you'll vote at all. Maybe you're tired of the direction we're headed, but you can't see a better path yet, or you just don't know enough about the person who wants to lead us there.
So let me tell you about my friend, Joe Biden.
Twelve years ago, when I began my search for a vice president, I didn't know I'd end up finding a brother. Joe and I came from different places and different generations. But what I quickly came to admire about Joe Biden is his resilience, born of too much struggle; his empathy, born of too much grief. Joe's a man who learned – early on – to treat every person he meets with respect and dignity, living by the words his parents taught him: "No one's better than you, Joe, but you're better than nobody."
That empathy, that decency, the belief that everybody counts – that's who Joe is.
When he talks with someone who's lost her job, Joe remembers the night his father sat him down to say that he'd lost his.
When Joe listens to a parent who's trying to hold it all together right now, he does it as the single dad who took the train back to Wilmington each and every night so he could tuck his kids into bed.
When he meets with military families who've lost their hero, he does it as a kindred spirit; the parent of an American soldier; somebody whose faith has endured the hardest loss there is.
For eight years, Joe was the last one in the room whenever I faced a big decision. He made me a better president – and he's got the character and the experience to make us a better country.
And in my friend Kamala Harris, he's chosen an ideal partner who's more than prepared for the job; someone who knows what it's like to overcome barriers and who's made a career fighting to help others live out their own American dream.
Along with the experience needed to get things done, Joe and Kamala have concrete policies that will turn their vision of a better, fairer, stronger country into reality.
They will get this pandemic under control, like Joe did when he helped me manage H1N1 and prevent an Ebola outbreak from reaching our shores.
They'll expand health care to more Americans, like Joe and I did ten years ago when he helped craft the Affordable Care Act and nail down the votes to make it the law.
They'll rescue the economy, like Joe helped me do after the Great Recession. I asked him to manage the Recovery Act, which jumpstarted the longest stretch of job growth in history. And he sees this moment now not as a chance to get back to where we were, but to make long-overdue changes so that our economy actually makes life a little easier for everybody – whether it's the waitress trying to raise a kid on her own, or the shift worker always on the edge of getting laid off, or the student figuring out how to pay for next semester's classes.
Joe and Kamala will restore our standing in the world – and as we've learned from this pandemic, that matters. Joe knows the world, and the world knows him. He knows that our true strength comes from setting an example the world wants to follow. A nation that stands with democracy, not dictators. A nation that can inspire and mobilize others to overcome threats like climate change, terrorism, poverty, and disease.
But more than anything, what I know about Joe, what I know about Kamala is that they actually care about every American. And that they care deeply about this democracy.
They believe that in a democracy, the right to vote is sacred, and we should be making it easier for people to cast their ballots, not harder.
They believe that no one – including the president – is above the law, and that no public official – including the president – should use their office to enrich themselves or their supporters.
They understand that in this democracy, the Commander-in-Chief does not use the men and women of our military, who are willing to risk everything to protect our nation, as political props to deploy against peaceful protesters on our own soil. They understand that political opponents aren't "un-American" just because they disagree with you; the free press isn't the "enemy" but the way we hold officials accountable; that our ability to work together to solve big problems like a pandemic depend on a fidelity to facts and science and logic and not just making stuff up.
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Good evening, everyone. It’s a hard time, and everyone’s feeling it in different ways. And I know a lot of folks are reluctant to tune into a political convention right now or to politics in general. Believe me, I get that. But I am here tonight because I love this country with all my heart, and it pains me to see so many people hurting.
I’ve met so many of you. I’ve heard your stories. And through you, I have seen this country’s promise. And thanks to so many who came before me, thanks to their toil and sweat and blood, I’ve been able to live that promise myself.
I’ve met so many of you. I’ve heard your stories. And through you, I have seen this country’s promise. And thanks to so many who came before me, thanks to their toil and sweat and blood, I’ve been able to live that promise myself.
That’s the story of America. All those folks who sacrificed and overcame so much in their own times because they wanted something more, something better for their kids.
There’s a lot of beauty in that story. There’s a lot of pain in it, too, a lot of struggle and injustice and work left to do. And who we choose as our president in this election will determine whether or not we honor that struggle and chip away at that injustice and keep alive the very possibility of finishing that work.
There’s a lot of beauty in that story. There’s a lot of pain in it, too, a lot of struggle and injustice and work left to do. And who we choose as our president in this election will determine whether or not we honor that struggle and chip away at that injustice and keep alive the very possibility of finishing that work.
I am one of a handful of people living today who have seen firsthand the immense weight and awesome power of the presidency. And let me once again tell you this: The job is hard. It requires clearheaded judgment, a mastery of complex and competing issues, a devotion to facts and history, a moral compass, and an ability to listen — and an abiding belief that each of the 330,000,000 lives in this country has meaning and worth.
A president’s words have the power to move markets. They can start wars or broker peace. They can summon our better angels or awaken our worst instincts. You simply cannot fake your way through this job.
As I’ve said before, being president doesn’t change who you are; it reveals who you are. Well, a presidential election can reveal who we are, too. And four years ago, too many people chose to believe that their votes didn’t matter. Maybe they were fed up. Maybe they thought the outcome wouldn’t be close. Maybe the barriers felt too steep. Whatever the reason, in the end, those choices sent someone to the Oval Office who lost the national popular vote by nearly 3,000,000 votes.
In one of the states that determined the outcome, the winning margin averaged out to just two votes per precinct — two votes. And we’ve all been living with the consequences.
When my husband left office with Joe Biden at his side, we had a record-breaking stretch of job creation. We’d secured the right to health care for 20,000,000 people. We were respected around the world, rallying our allies to confront climate change. And our leaders had worked hand-in-hand with scientists to help prevent an Ebola outbreak from becoming a global pandemic.
Four years later, the state of this nation is very different. More than 150,000 people have died, and our economy is in shambles because of a virus that this president downplayed for too long. It has left millions of people jobless. Too many have lost their health care; too many are struggling to take care of basic necessities like food and rent; too many communities have been left in the lurch to grapple with whether and how to open our schools safely. Internationally, we’ve turned our back, not just on agreements forged by my husband, but on alliances championed by presidents like Reagan and Eisenhower.
And here at home, as George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, and a never-ending list of innocent people of color continue to be murdered, stating the simple fact that a Black life matters is still met with derision from the nation’s highest office.
Because whenever we look to this White House for some leadership or consolation or any semblance of steadiness, what we get instead is chaos, division, and a total and utter lack of empathy.
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Politics
Hi, I'm Kristin Urquiza. I'm one of the many who has lost a loved one to COVID. My dad, Mark Anthony Urquiza, should be here today, but he isn't. He had faith in Donald Trump. He voted for him, listened to him, believed him and his mouthpieces when they said that coronavirus was under control and going to disappear, that it was OK to end social distancing rules before it was safe, and that if you had no underlying health conditions, you'd probably be fine.
So in late May after the stay-at-home order was lifted in Arizona, my dad went to a karaoke bar with his friends. A few weeks later, he was put on a ventilator. And after five agonizing days, he died alone in the ICU with a nurse holding his hand. My dad was a healthy 65-year-old. His only pre-existing condition was trusting Donald Trump, and for that he paid with his life.
I am not alone. Once I told my story, a lot of people reached out to me to share theirs. They asked me to help them keep their communities safe, especially communities of color, which have been disproportionately affected. They asked me, a normal person, to help because Donald Trump won't.
The coronavirus has made it clear that there are two Americas, the America that Donald Trump lives in and the America that my father died in. Enough is enough. Donald Trump may not have caused the coronavirus, but his dishonesty and his irresponsible actions made it so much worse.
We need a leader who has a national coordinated data-driven response to stop this pandemic from claiming more lives and to safely reopen the country. We need a leader who will step in on day one and do his job-- to care. One of the last things that my father said to me was that he felt betrayed by the likes of Donald Trump. And so when I cast my vote for Joe Biden, I will do it for my dad.
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immediately, the cock
crew thrice and the lies
of the night whitened
by suffering's anticipation.
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Artistic expressions
Where have you been my blue-eyed son?
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DebateArt.com
ETYMOLOGY.
(Supplied by a Late Consumptive Usher to a Grammar School.)
The pale Usher—threadbare in coat, heart, body, and brain; I see him now. He was ever dusting his old lexicons and grammars, with a queer handkerchief, mockingly embellished with all the gay flags of all the known nations of the world. He loved to dust his old grammars; it somehow mildly reminded him of his mortality.
“While you take in hand to school others, and to teach them by what name a whale-fish is to be called in our tongue, leaving out, through ignorance, the letter H, which almost alone maketh up the signification of the word, you deliver that which is not true.” —Hackluyt.
“WHALE. * * * Sw. and Dan. hval. This animal is named from roundness or rolling; for in Dan. hvalt is arched or vaulted.” —Webster’s Dictionary.
“WHALE. * * * It is more immediately from the Dut. and Ger. Wallen; A.S. Walw-ian, to roll, to wallow.” —Richardson’s Dictionary.
חו,
Hebrew.
ϰητος,
Greek.
CETUS,
Latin.
WHÅ’L,
Anglo-Saxon.
HVALT,
Danish.
WAL,
Dutch.
HWAL,
Swedish.
HVALUR,
Icelandic.
WHALE,
English.
BALEINE,
French.
BALLENA,
Spanish.
PEKEE-NUEE-NUEE,
Fegee.
PEHEE-NUEE-NUEE,
Erromangoan.
(Supplied by a Late Consumptive Usher to a Grammar School.)
The pale Usher—threadbare in coat, heart, body, and brain; I see him now. He was ever dusting his old lexicons and grammars, with a queer handkerchief, mockingly embellished with all the gay flags of all the known nations of the world. He loved to dust his old grammars; it somehow mildly reminded him of his mortality.
“While you take in hand to school others, and to teach them by what name a whale-fish is to be called in our tongue, leaving out, through ignorance, the letter H, which almost alone maketh up the signification of the word, you deliver that which is not true.” —Hackluyt.
“WHALE. * * * Sw. and Dan. hval. This animal is named from roundness or rolling; for in Dan. hvalt is arched or vaulted.” —Webster’s Dictionary.
“WHALE. * * * It is more immediately from the Dut. and Ger. Wallen; A.S. Walw-ian, to roll, to wallow.” —Richardson’s Dictionary.
חו,
Hebrew.
ϰητος,
Greek.
CETUS,
Latin.
WHÅ’L,
Anglo-Saxon.
HVALT,
Danish.
WAL,
Dutch.
HWAL,
Swedish.
HVALUR,
Icelandic.
WHALE,
English.
BALEINE,
French.
BALLENA,
Spanish.
PEKEE-NUEE-NUEE,
Fegee.
PEHEE-NUEE-NUEE,
Erromangoan.
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Artistic expressions
The Virus
Dubbed undetectable, I can’t kill
The people you touch, and I can’t
Blur your view
Of the pansies you’ve planted
Outside the window, meaning
I can’t kill the pansies, but I want to.
I want them dying, and I want
To do the killing. I want you
To heed that I’m still here
Just beneath your skin and in
Each organ
The way anger dwells in a man
Who studies the history of his nation.
If I can’t leave you
Dead, I’ll have
You vexed. Look. Look
Again: show me the color
Of your flowers now.
-Jericho Brown
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LET AMERICA BE AMERICA AGAIN
Let America be America again.
Let it be the dream it used to be.
Let it be the pioneer on the plain
Seeking a home where he himself is free.
(America never was America to me.)
Let America be the dream the dreamers dreamed —
Let it be that great strong land of love
Where never kings connive nor tyrants scheme
That any man be crushed by one above.
(It never was America to me.)
O, let my land be a land where Liberty
Is crowned with no false patriotic wreath,
But opportunity is real, and life is free,
Equality is in the air we breathe.
(There's never been equality for me,
Nor freedom in this "homeland of the free.")
Say, who are you that mumbles in the dark?
And who are you that draws your veil across the stars?
I am the poor white, fooled and pushed apart,
I am the Negro bearing slavery's scars.
I am the red man driven from the land,
I am the immigrant clutching the hope I seek —
And finding only the same old stupid plan
Of dog eat dog, of mighty crush the weak.
I am the young man, full of strength and hope,
Tangled in that ancient endless chain
Of profit, power, gain, of grab the land!
Of grab the gold! Of grab the ways of satisfying need!
Of work the men! Of take the pay!
Of owning everything for one's own greed!
I am the farmer, bondsman to the soil.
I am the worker sold to the machine.
I am the Negro, servant to you all.
I am the people, humble, hungry, mean —
Hungry yet today despite the dream.
Beaten yet today--O, Pioneers!
I am the man who never got ahead,
The poorest worker bartered through the years.
Yet I'm the one who dreamt our basic dream
In the Old World while still a serf of kings,
Who dreamt a dream so strong, so brave, so true,
That even yet its mighty daring sings
In every brick and stone, in every furrow turned
That's made America the land it has become.
O, I'm the man who sailed those early seas
In search of what I meant to be my home —
For I'm the one who left dark Ireland's shore,
And Poland's plain, and England's grassy lea,
And torn from Black Africa's strand I came
To build a "homeland of the free."
The free?
Who said the free? Not me?
Surely not me? The millions on relief today?
The millions shot down when we strike?
The millions who have nothing for our pay?
For all the dreams we've dreamed
And all the songs we've sung
And all the hopes we've held
And all the flags we've hung,
The millions who have nothing for our pay —
Except the dream that's almost dead today.
O, let America be America again —
The land that never has been yet —
And yet must be--the land where every man is free.
The land that's mine — the poor man's, Indian's, Negro's, ME —
Who made America,
Whose sweat and blood, whose faith and pain,
Whose hand at the foundry, whose plow in the rain,
Must bring back our mighty dream again.
Sure, call me any ugly name you choose —
The steel of freedom does not stain.
From those who live like leeches on the people's lives,
We must take back our land again,
America!
O, yes,
I say it plain,
America never was America to me,
And yet I swear this oath —
America will be!
Out of the rack and ruin of our gangster death,
The rape and rot of graft, and stealth, and lies,
We, the people, must redeem
The land, the mines, the plants, the rivers.
The mountains and the endless plain —
All, all the stretch of these great green states —
And make America again!
-Langston Hughes
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A Litany in Time of Plague
Adieu, farewell, earth's bliss;
This world uncertain is;
Fond are life's lustful joys;
Death proves them all but toys;
None from his darts can fly;
I am sick, I must die.
Lord, have mercy on us!
Rich men, trust not in wealth,
Gold cannot buy you health;
Physic himself must fade.
All things to end are made,
The plague full swift goes by;
I am sick, I must die.
Lord, have mercy on us!
Beauty is but a flower
Which wrinkles will devour;
Brightness falls from the air;
Queens have died young and fair;
Dust hath closed Helen's eye.
I am sick, I must die.
Lord, have mercy on us!
Strength stoops unto the grave,
Worms feed on Hector brave;
Swords may not fight with fate,
Earth still holds open her gate.
"Come, come!" the bells do cry.
I am sick, I must die.
Lord, have mercy on us!
Wit with his wantonness
Tasteth death's bitterness;
Hell's executioner
Hath no ears for to hear
What vain art can reply.
I am sick, I must die.
Lord, have mercy on us!
Haste, therefore, each degree,
To welcome destiny;
Heaven is our heritage
,Earth but a player's stage;
Mount we unto the sky.
I am sick, I must die.
Lord, have mercy on us!
-Thomas Nashe
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The Lake Isle of Innisfree
I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,
And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made;
Nine bean-rows will I have there, a hive for the honey-bee,
And live alone in the bee-loud glade.
And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,
Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings;
There midnight’s all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow,
And evening full of the linnet’s wings.
I will arise and go now, for always night and day
I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;
While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements grey,
I hear it in the deep heart’s core.
-WB Yeats
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SCENE I. Rome. Before the Capitol; the Senate sitting above.
A crowd of people; among them ARTEMIDORUS and the Soothsayer. Flourish. Enter CAESAR, BRUTUS, CASSIUS, CASCA, DECIUS BRUTUS, METELLUS CIMBER, TREBONIUS, CINNA, ANTONY, LEPIDUS, POPILIUS, PUBLIUS, and others
CAESAR
[To the Soothsayer] The ides of March are come.
Soothsayer
Ay, Caesar; but not gone.
ARTEMIDORUS
Hail, Caesar! read this schedule.
DECIUS BRUTUS
Trebonius doth desire you to o'erread,At your best leisure, this his humble suit.
ARTEMIDORUS
O Caesar, read mine first; for mine's a suitThat touches Caesar nearer: read it, great Caesar.
CAESAR
What touches us ourself shall be last served.
ARTEMIDORUS
Delay not, Caesar; read it instantly.
CAESAR
What, is the fellow mad?
PUBLIUS
Sirrah, give place.
CASSIUS
What, urge you your petitions in the street?Come to the Capitol.CAESAR goes up to the Senate-House, the rest following
POPILIUS
I wish your enterprise to-day may thrive.
CASSIUS
What enterprise, Popilius?
POPILIUS
Fare you well.Advances to CAESAR
BRUTUS
What said Popilius Lena?
CASSIUS
He wish'd to-day our enterprise might thrive.I fear our purpose is discovered.
BRUTUS
Look, how he makes to Caesar; mark him.
CASSIUS
Casca, be sudden, for we fear prevention.Brutus, what shall be done? If this be known,Cassius or Caesar never shall turn back,For I will slay myself.
BRUTUS
Cassius, be constant:Popilius Lena speaks not of our purposes;For, look, he smiles, and Caesar doth not change.
CASSIUS
Trebonius knows his time; for, look you, Brutus.He draws Mark Antony out of the way.Exeunt ANTONY and TREBONIUS
DECIUS BRUTUS
Where is Metellus Cimber? Let him go,And presently prefer his suit to Caesar.
BRUTUS
He is address'd: press near and second him.
CINNA
Casca, you are the first that rears your hand.
CAESAR
Are we all ready? What is now amissThat Caesar and his senate must redress?
METELLUS CIMBER
Most high, most mighty, and most puissant Caesar,Metellus Cimber throws before thy seatAn humble heart,--Kneeling
CAESAR
I must prevent thee, Cimber.These couchings and these lowly courtesiesMight fire the blood of ordinary men,And turn pre-ordinance and first decreeInto the law of children. Be not fond,To think that Caesar bears such rebel bloodThat will be thaw'd from the true qualityWith that which melteth fools; I mean, sweet words,Low-crooked court'sies and base spaniel-fawning.Thy brother by decree is banished:If thou dost bend and pray and fawn for him,I spurn thee like a cur out of my way.Know, Caesar doth not wrong, nor without causeWill he be satisfied.
METELLUS CIMBER
Is there no voice more worthy than my ownTo sound more sweetly in great Caesar's earFor the repealing of my banish'd brother?
BRUTUS
I kiss thy hand, but not in flattery, Caesar;Desiring thee that Publius Cimber mayHave an immediate freedom of repeal.
CAESAR
What, Brutus!
CASSIUS
Pardon, Caesar; Caesar, pardon:As low as to thy foot doth Cassius fall,To beg enfranchisement for Publius Cimber.
CAESAR
I could be well moved, if I were as you:If I could pray to move, prayers would move me:But I am constant as the northern star,Of whose true-fix'd and resting qualityThere is no fellow in the firmament.The skies are painted with unnumber'd sparks,They are all fire and every one doth shine,But there's but one in all doth hold his place:So in the world; 'tis furnish'd well with men,And men are flesh and blood, and apprehensive;Yet in the number I do know but oneThat unassailable holds on his rank,Unshaked of motion: and that I am he,Let me a little show it, even in this;That I was constant Cimber should be banish'd,And constant do remain to keep him so.
CINNA
O Caesar,--
CAESAR
Hence! wilt thou lift up Olympus?
DECIUS BRUTUS
Great Caesar,--
CAESAR
Doth not Brutus bootless kneel?
CASCA
Speak, hands for me!CASCA first, then the other Conspirators and BRUTUS stab CAESAR
CAESAR
Et tu, Brute! Then fall, Caesar.Dies
CINNA
Liberty! Freedom! Tyranny is dead!Run hence, proclaim, cry it about the streets.
CASSIUS
Some to the common pulpits, and cry out'Liberty, freedom, and enfranchisement!'
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I
Because I do not hope to turn again
Because I do not hope
Because I do not hope to turn
Desiring this man's gift and that man's scope
I no longer strive to strive towards such things
(Why should the agèd eagle stretch its wings?)
Why should I mourn
The vanished power of the usual reign?
Because I do not hope to know
The infirm glory of the positive hour
Because I do not think
Because I know I shall not know
The one veritable transitory power
Because I cannot drink
There, where trees flower, and springs flow, for there is
nothing again
Because I know that time is always time
And place is always and only place
And what is actual is actual only for one time
And only for one place
I rejoice that things are as they are and
I renounce the blessèd face
And renounce the voice
Because I cannot hope to turn again
Consequently I rejoice, having to construct something
Upon which to rejoice
And pray to God to have mercy upon us
And pray that I may forget
These matters that with myself I too much discuss
Too much explain
Because I do not hope to turn again
Let these words answer
For what is done, not to be done again
May the judgement not be too heavy upon us
Because these wings are no longer wings to fly
But merely vans to beat the air
The air which is now thoroughly small and dry
Smaller and dryer than the will
Teach us to care and not to care Teach us to sit still.
Pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death
Pray for us now and at the hour of our death.
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- Lost my shape trying to act casual.
- Can't stop-
- I might end up in the hospital.
- I'm changing my shape.
- (I feel like an accident)
- They're back to explain their experience
- Isn't it weird?
- Looks too obscure to me.
- Wasting away,
- And that was their policy.
- I'm ready to leave!
- I push the fact in front of me.
- Facts lost.
- (Facts are never what they seem to be.)
- Nothing there!
- No information left of any kind.
- Lifting my head:
- La-la-la-looking for the danger signs.
- There was a line,
- there was a formula.
- Sharp as a knife,
- Facts cut a hole in us.
- There was a line, there was a formula.
- Sharp as a knife, facts cut a hole in us
- I'm still waiting...
- I'm still waiting...
- I'm still waiting...
- I'm still waiting...
- I'm still waiting..
- .I'm still waiting...
- I'm still waiting...
- I'm still waiting...
- The feeling returns
- whenever we close out eyes.
- lifting my head,
- looking around inside
- The island of doubt!
- It's like the taste of medicine.
- Working by hindsight,
- got the message
- from the oxygen.
- Making a list:
- Find the cost of
- opportunity.
- Doing it right, right, right, right, right.
- (Facts are useless in emergencies.)
- The feeling returns
- whenever we close out eyes.
- Lifting my head,
- looking around inside.
- Facts are simple and
- facts are straight.
- Facts are lazy and
- facts are late.
- Facts all come with points of view.
- Facts don't do what I want them to.
- Facts just twist the truth around.
- Facts are living turned inside out.
- Facts are getting the best of them.
- Facts are nothing on the face of things.
- Facts don't stain the furniture.
- Facts go out and slam the door.
- Facts are written all over your face.
- Facts continue to change their shape.
- I'm still waiting...
- I'm still waiting...
- I'm still waiting...
- I'm still waiting...
- I'm still waiting..
- .I'm still waiting...
- I'm still waiting...
- I'm still waiting...
- -Talking Heads
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I can't make sense of two recent acts of deliberate destruction of street art- last night's destruction of Banksy Valentine's Day work in Bristol, UK
and last week's attack Hosier Lane in Melbourne.
The impulse to destroy art makes no sense to me. In both cases we are looking at vibrant art gifted to public spaces- artists donating their considerable talents to the greater civic beauty. Nobody was charged anything: nobody was compelled to anything: no offense was offered: no politics inferred. But still the impulse apparently exists in some to claw at the beauty of work, to erase the hours of loving craft and leave something broken where civic color and civil reaffirmation were gifted by the kind and the creative.
What's the payoff? What impulse is satisfied? What individual purpose is gained for all that civil expense?
I suppose I see some variation of that impulse in the DART forums. There are those participants who are entirely disinterested in creation or original opinion but tirelessly add a splotch of cynicism or dismissal or derision like a tag in the alley- just marking out territory absent interest or even intent. The advantage that DART has over Hosier Lane is that the hobgoblins are identified and their comments easily bypassed.
Most art belongs to its moment and seldom replicates the original impact. I suppose the vandalism too reflects its the time and place but the loss of the thing is hard to replace and the aftermath in ruin hardens all our hearts.
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Philosophy
"The flower-crowned alleged skull of St. Valentine is exhibited in the Basilica of Santa Maria in Cosmedin, Rome.St. Valentine's remains are deposited in St Anton's Church, Madrid, where they have lain since the late 1700s. They were a present from the Pope to King Carlos IV, who entrusted them to the Order of Poor Clerics Regular of the Mother of God of the Pious Schools. The relics have been displayed publicly since 1984, in a foundation open to the public at all times in order help people in need.Whitefriar Street Carmelite Church, Dublin, also houses some relics of St Valentine. On 27 December 1835 the Very Reverend Father John Spratt, Master of Sacred Theology to the Carmelite order in Dublin, was sent the partial remains of St Valentine by Cardinal Carlo Odescalchi, under the auspices of Pope Gregory XVI. The relics and the accompanying letter from Cardinal Odescalchi have remained in the church ever since. The remains, which include "a small vessel tinged with his blood", were sent as a token of esteem following an eloquent sermon Fr Spratt had delivered in Rome. On Saint Valentine's Day in Ireland, many individuals who seek true love make a Christian pilgrimage to the Shrine of St. Valentine in Whitefriar Street Carmelite Church in Dublin, which is said to house relics of Saint Valentine of Rome; they pray at the shrine in hope of finding romance. There lies a book in which foreigners and locals have written their prayer requests for love.Another relic was found in 2003 in Prague in Church of St Peter and Paul at Vyšehrad.A silver reliquary containing a fragment of St. Valentine's skull is found in the parish church of St. Mary's Assumption in Chełmno, Poland.Relics can also be found in Mytilene on the Greek island of Lesbos.Another set of relics can also be found in Savona, in the Cathedral of Santa Maria Assunta.
Alleged relics of St. Valentine also lie at the reliquary of Roquemaure, Gard, France, in the St. Stephen's Cathedral, Vienna, in Balzan in Malta and also in Blessed John Duns Scotus' church in the Gorbals area of Glasgow, Scotland.There is also a gold reliquary bearing the words "Corpus St. Valentin, M" (Body of St. Valentine, Martyr) at Birmingham Oratory, UK, in one of the side altars in the main church."
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Artistic expressions
When the blazing sun hangs low in the western sky
When the wind dies away on the mountain
When the song of the meadowlark turns still
When the free locust clicks no more in the field
and the sea-foam sleeps like a maiden at rest
and twilight touches the shape of the wandering Earth
I turn home
Through blue shadows and purple woods
I turn home
I turn to the place where I was born
to the mother who bore me and the father who taught me
long ago
long ago
Alone am I now
lost in a far wide wandering world
Still when the sun hangs low
and the wind dies away
and the sea-foam sleeps
and twilight touches the wandering Earth
I turn home
-Dalton Trumbo
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Donald J. Trump: You know and ...
Unknown: She used to be great. She’s still very beautiful.
Trump: I moved on her, actually. You know, she was down on Palm Beach. I moved on her, and I failed. I’ll admit it.
Unknown: Whoa.
Trump: I did try and fuck her. She was married.
Unknown: That’s huge news.
Trump: No, no, Nancy. No, this was [unintelligible] — and I moved on her very heavily. In fact, I took her out furniture shopping.
She wanted to get some furniture. I said, “I’ll show you where they have some nice furniture.” I took her out furniture —
Unknown: She used to be great. She’s still very beautiful.
Trump: I moved on her, actually. You know, she was down on Palm Beach. I moved on her, and I failed. I’ll admit it.
Unknown: Whoa.
Trump: I did try and fuck her. She was married.
Unknown: That’s huge news.
Trump: No, no, Nancy. No, this was [unintelligible] — and I moved on her very heavily. In fact, I took her out furniture shopping.
She wanted to get some furniture. I said, “I’ll show you where they have some nice furniture.” I took her out furniture —
I moved on her like a bitch. But I couldn’t get there. And she was married. Then all of a sudden I see her, she’s now got the big phony tits and everything. She’s totally changed her look.
Billy Bush: Sheesh, your girl’s hot as shit. In the purple.
Trump: Whoa! Whoa!
Bush: Yes! The Donald has scored. Whoa, my man!
[Crosstalk]
Trump: Look at you, you are a pussy.
[Crosstalk]
Trump: All right, you and I will walk out.
[Silence]
Trump: Maybe it’s a different one.
Bush: It better not be the publicist. No, it’s, it’s her, it’s —
Trump: Yeah, that’s her. With the gold. I better use some Tic Tacs just in case I start kissing her. You know, I’m automatically attracted to beautiful — I just start kissing them. It’s like a magnet. Just kiss. I don’t even wait. And when you’re a star, they let you do it. You can do anything.
Billy Bush: Sheesh, your girl’s hot as shit. In the purple.
Trump: Whoa! Whoa!
Bush: Yes! The Donald has scored. Whoa, my man!
[Crosstalk]
Trump: Look at you, you are a pussy.
[Crosstalk]
Trump: All right, you and I will walk out.
Trump: Maybe it’s a different one.
Bush: It better not be the publicist. No, it’s, it’s her, it’s —
Trump: Yeah, that’s her. With the gold. I better use some Tic Tacs just in case I start kissing her. You know, I’m automatically attracted to beautiful — I just start kissing them. It’s like a magnet. Just kiss. I don’t even wait. And when you’re a star, they let you do it. You can do anything.
Bush: Whatever you want.
Trump: Grab ’em by the pussy. You can do anything.
Bush: Uh, yeah, those legs, all I can see is the legs.
Trump: Oh, it looks good.
Bush: Come on shorty.
Trump: Ooh, nice legs, huh?
Bush: Oof, get out of the way, honey. Oh, that’s good legs. Go ahead.
Trump: It’s always good if you don’t fall out of the bus. Like Ford, Gerald Ford, remember?
Bush: Down below, pull the handle.
Trump: Hello, how are you? Hi!
Arianne Zucker: Hi, Mr. Trump. How are you? Pleasure to meet you.
Trump: Nice seeing you. Terrific, terrific. You know Billy Bush?
Bush: Hello, nice to see you. How you doing, Arianne?
Zucker: Doing very well, thank you. Are you ready to be a soap star?
Trump: We’re ready, let’s go. Make me a soap star.
Bush: How about a little hug for the Donald? He just got off the bus.
Zucker: Would you like a little hug, darling?
Trump: O.K., absolutely. Melania said this was O.K.
Bush: How about a little hug for the Bushy? I just got off the bus.
Trump: Grab ’em by the pussy. You can do anything.
Bush: Uh, yeah, those legs, all I can see is the legs.
Trump: Oh, it looks good.
Bush: Come on shorty.
Trump: Ooh, nice legs, huh?
Bush: Oof, get out of the way, honey. Oh, that’s good legs. Go ahead.
Trump: It’s always good if you don’t fall out of the bus. Like Ford, Gerald Ford, remember?
Bush: Down below, pull the handle.
Trump: Hello, how are you? Hi!
Arianne Zucker: Hi, Mr. Trump. How are you? Pleasure to meet you.
Trump: Nice seeing you. Terrific, terrific. You know Billy Bush?
Bush: Hello, nice to see you. How you doing, Arianne?
Zucker: Doing very well, thank you. Are you ready to be a soap star?
Trump: We’re ready, let’s go. Make me a soap star.
Bush: How about a little hug for the Donald? He just got off the bus.
Zucker: Would you like a little hug, darling?
Trump: O.K., absolutely. Melania said this was O.K.
Bush: How about a little hug for the Bushy? I just got off the bus.
Zucker: Bushy, Bushy.
Bush: Here we go. Excellent. Well, you’ve got a nice co-star here.
Zucker: Yes, absolutely.
Trump: Good. After you.
[Break in video]
Trump: Come on, Billy, don’t be shy.
Bush: Soon as a beautiful woman shows up, he just, he takes off. This always happens.
Trump: Get over here, Billy.
Zucker: I’m sorry, come here.
Bush: Let the little guy in here, come on.
Zucker: Yeah, let the little guy in. How you feel now? Better? I should actually be in the middle.
Bush: It’s hard to walk next to a guy like this.
Zucker: Here, wait, hold on.
Bush: Yeah, you get in the middle, there we go.
Trump: Good, that’s better.
Zucker: This is much better. This is —
Trump: That’s better.
Zucker: [Sighs]
Bush: Now, if you had to choose honestly between one of us. Me or the Donald?
Trump: I don’t know, that’s tough competition.
Zucker: That’s some pressure right there.
Bush: Seriously, if you had — if you had to take one of us as a date.
Bush: Here we go. Excellent. Well, you’ve got a nice co-star here.
Zucker: Yes, absolutely.
Trump: Good. After you.
[Break in video]
Trump: Come on, Billy, don’t be shy.
Bush: Soon as a beautiful woman shows up, he just, he takes off. This always happens.
Trump: Get over here, Billy.
Zucker: I’m sorry, come here.
Bush: Let the little guy in here, come on.
Zucker: Yeah, let the little guy in. How you feel now? Better? I should actually be in the middle.
Bush: It’s hard to walk next to a guy like this.
Zucker: Here, wait, hold on.
Bush: Yeah, you get in the middle, there we go.
Trump: Good, that’s better.
Zucker: This is much better. This is —
Trump: That’s better.
Zucker: [Sighs]
Bush: Now, if you had to choose honestly between one of us. Me or the Donald?
Trump: I don’t know, that’s tough competition.
Zucker: That’s some pressure right there.
Bush: Seriously, if you had — if you had to take one of us as a date.
Zucker: I have to take the Fifth on that one.
Bush: Really?
Zucker: Yup — I’ll take both.
Trump: Which way?
Zucker: Make a right. Here we go. [inaudible]
Bush: Here he goes. I’m gonna leave you here.
Trump: O.K.
Bush: Give me my microphone.
Trump: O.K. Oh, you’re finished?
Bush: You’re my man, yeah.
Trump: Oh, good.
Bush: I’m gonna go do our show.
Zucker: Oh, you wanna reset? O.K.
Bush: Really?
Zucker: Yup — I’ll take both.
Trump: Which way?
Zucker: Make a right. Here we go. [inaudible]
Bush: Here he goes. I’m gonna leave you here.
Trump: O.K.
Bush: Give me my microphone.
Trump: O.K. Oh, you’re finished?
Bush: You’re my man, yeah.
Trump: Oh, good.
Bush: I’m gonna go do our show.
Zucker: Oh, you wanna reset? O.K.
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Artistic expressions
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Artistic expressions
I say to you today, my friends, so even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream.
I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal.”
I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia, the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood.
I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a state sweltering with the heat of injustice sweltering with the heat of oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice.
I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character. I have a dream today.
I have a dream that one day down in Alabama, with its vicious racists, with its governor having his lips dripping with the words of “interposition” and “nullification”, one day right there in Alabama little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers. I have a dream today.
I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight, and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together.
This is our hope. This is the faith that I go back to the South with. With this faith we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope. With this faith we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood. With this faith we will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day.
This will be the day, this will be the day when all of God’s children will be able to sing with new meaning:
And if America is to be a great nation, this must become true.
And when this happens (Let it ring, Let it ring), and when we allow freedom ring (Let it ring), when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city (Yes Lord), we will be able to speed up that day when all of God’s children (Yeah), black men (Yeah) and white men (Yeah), Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics (Yes), will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual:
“My country, ‘tis of thee,
sweet land of liberty,
of thee I sing.
Land where my fathers died,
land of the pilgrim’s pride,
from every mountainside,
let freedom ring!”
So let freedom ring from the prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire.
Let freedom ring from the mighty mountains of New York.
Let freedom ring from the heightening Alleghenies of Pennsylvania.
Let freedom ring from the snow-capped Rockies of Colorado.
Let freedom ring from the curvaceous slopes of California.
But not only that:
Let freedom ring from Stone Mountain of Georgia.
Let freedom ring from Lookout Mountain of Tennessee.
Let freedom ring from every hill and molehill of Mississippi.
From every mountainside, let freedom ring.
“Free at last! Free at last! Thank God Almighty, we are free at last!”
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yer moms @supadudz
re:punched me in the gutz
fukt car stuck in the mudz
how fukt up is totaled?
if ur ride aint drive no mo
thatz what you call totaled.
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Artistic expressions
SUNDAY MORNING
I
Complacencies of the peignoir, and late
Coffee and oranges in a sunny chair,
And the green freedom of a cockatoo
Upon a rug mingle to dissipate
The holy hush of ancient sacrifice.
She dreams a little, and she feels the dark
Encroachment of that old catastrophe,
As a calm darkens among water-lights.
The pungent oranges and bright, green wings
Seem things in some procession of the dead,
Winding across wide water, without sound.
The day is like wide water, without sound,
Stilled for the passing of her dreaming feet
Over the seas, to silent Palestine,
Dominion of the blood and sepulchre.
II
Why should she give her bounty to the dead?
What is divinity if it can come
Only in silent shadows and in dreams?
Shall she not find in comforts of the sun,
In pungent fruit and bright, green wings, or else
In any balm or beauty of the earth,
Things to be cherished like the thought of heaven?
Divinity must live within herself:
Passions of rain, or moods in falling snow;
Grievings in loneliness, or unsubdued
Elations when the forest blooms; gusty
Emotions on wet roads on autumn nights;
All pleasures and all pains, remembering
The bough of summer and the winter branch.
These are the measures destined for her soul.
III
Jove in the clouds had his inhuman birth.
No mother suckled him, no sweet land gave
Large-mannered motions to his mythy mind.
He moved among us, as a muttering king,
Magnificent, would move among his hinds,
Until our blood, commingling, virginal,
With heaven, brought such requital to desire
The very hinds discerned it, in a star.
Shall our blood fail? Or shall it come to be
The blood of paradise? And shall the earth
Seem all of paradise that we shall know?
The sky will be much friendlier then than now,
A part of labor and a part of pain,
And next in glory to enduring love,
Not this dividing and indifferent blue.
IV
She says, “I am content when wakened birds,
Before they fly, test the reality
Of misty fields, by their sweet questionings;
But when the birds are gone, and their warm fields
Return no more, where, then, is paradise?”
There is not any haunt of prophecy,
Nor any old chimera of the grave,
Neither the golden underground, nor isle
Melodious, where spirits gat them home,
Nor visionary south, nor cloudy palm
Remote on heaven’s hill, that has endured
As April’s green endures; or will endure
Like her remembrance of awakened birds,
Or her desire for June and evening, tipped
By the consummation of the swallow’s wings.
V
She says, “But in contentment I still feel
The need of some imperishable bliss.”
Death is the mother of beauty; hence from her,
Alone, shall come fulfilment to our dreams
And our desires. Although she strews the leaves
Of sure obliteration on our paths,
The path sick sorrow took, the many paths
Where triumph rang its brassy phrase, or love
Whispered a little out of tenderness,
She makes the willow shiver in the sun
For maidens who were wont to sit and gaze
Upon the grass, relinquished to their feet.
She causes boys to pile new plums and pears
On disregarded plate. The maidens taste
And stray impassioned in the littering leaves.
VI
Is there no change of death in paradise?
Does ripe fruit never fall? Or do the boughs
Hang always heavy in that perfect sky,
Unchanging, yet so like our perishing earth,
With rivers like our own that seek for seas
They never find, the same receding shores
That never touch with inarticulate pang?
Why set the pear upon those river-banks
Or spice the shores with odors of the plum?
Alas, that they should wear our colors there,
The silken weavings of our afternoons,
And pick the strings of our insipid lutes!
Death is the mother of beauty, mystical,
Within whose burning bosom we devise
Our earthly mothers waiting, sleeplessly.
VII
Supple and turbulent, a ring of men
Shall chant in orgy on a summer morn
Their boisterous devotion to the sun,
Not as a god, but as a god might be,
Naked among them, like a savage source.
Their chant shall be a chant of paradise,
Out of their blood, returning to the sky;
And in their chant shall enter, voice by voice,
The windy lake wherein their lord delights,
The trees, like serafin, and echoing hills,
That choir among themselves long afterward.
They shall know well the heavenly fellowship
Of men that perish and of summer morn.
And whence they came and whither they shall go
The dew upon their feet shall manifest.
VIII
She hears, upon that water without sound,
A voice that cries, “The tomb in Palestine
Is not the porch of spirits lingering.
It is the grave of Jesus, where he lay.”
We live in an old chaos of the sun,
Or old dependency of day and night,
Or island solitude, unsponsored, free,
Of that wide water, inescapable.
Deer walk upon our mountains, and the quail
Whistle about us their spontaneous cries;
Sweet berries ripen in the wilderness;
And, in the isolation of the sky,
At evening, casual flocks of pigeons make
Ambiguous undulations as they sink,
Downward to darkness, on extended wings.
-Wallace Stevens
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Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?
"The Second Coming"
-WB Yeats
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By the President of the United States of America, a Proclamation.
Whereas it is the duty of all Nations to acknowledge the providence of Almighty God, to obey his will, to be grateful for his benefits, and humbly to implore his protection and favor-- and whereas both Houses of Congress have by their joint Committee requested me to recommend to the People of the United States a day of public thanksgiving and prayer to be observed by acknowledging with grateful hearts the many signal favors of Almighty God especially by affording them an opportunity peaceably to establish a form of government for their safety and happiness.
Now therefore I do recommend and assign Thursday the 26th day of November next to be devoted by the People of these States to the service of that great and glorious Being, who is the beneficent Author of all the good that was, that is, or that will be-- That we may then all unite in rendering unto him our sincere and humble thanks--for his kind care and protection of the People of this Country previous to their becoming a Nation--for the signal and manifold mercies, and the favorable interpositions of his Providence which we experienced in the course and conclusion of the late war--for the great degree of tranquility, union, and plenty, which we have since enjoyed--for the peaceable and rational manner, in which we have been enabled to establish constitutions of government for our safety and happiness, and particularly the national One now lately instituted--for the civil and religious liberty with which we are blessed; and the means we have of acquiring and diffusing useful knowledge; and in general for all the great and various favors which he hath been pleased to confer upon us.
and also that we may then unite in most humbly offering our prayers and supplications to the great Lord and Ruler of Nations and beseech him to pardon our national and other transgressions-- to enable us all, whether in public or private stations, to perform our several and relative duties properly and punctually--to render our national government a blessing to all the people, by constantly being a Government of wise, just, and constitutional laws, discreetly and faithfully executed and obeyed--to protect and guide all Sovereigns and Nations (especially such as have shewn kindness unto us) and to bless them with good government, peace, and concord--To promote the knowledge and practice of true religion and virtue, and the encrease of science among them and us--and generally to grant unto all Mankind such a degree of temporal prosperity as he alone knows to be best.
Given under my hand at the City of New York the third day of October in the year of our Lord 1789.
Go: Washington
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Artistic expressions
Oh, where have you been, my blue-eyed son?Oh, where have you been, my darling young one?I’ve stumbled on the side of twelve misty mountainsI’ve walked and I’ve crawled on six crooked highwaysI’ve stepped in the middle of seven sad forestsI’ve been out in front of a dozen dead oceansI’ve been ten thousand miles in the mouth of a graveyardAnd it’s a hard, and it’s a hard, it’s a hard, and it’s a hardAnd it’s a hard rain’s a-gonna fallOh, what did you see, my blue-eyed son?Oh, what did you see, my darling young one?I saw a newborn baby with wild wolves all around itI saw a highway of diamonds with nobody on itI saw a black branch with blood that kept drippin’I saw a room full of men with their hammers a-bleedin’I saw a white ladder all covered with waterI saw ten thousand talkers whose tongues were all brokenI saw guns and sharp swords in the hands of young childrenAnd it’s a hard, and it’s a hard, it’s a hard, it’s a hardAnd it’s a hard rain’s a-gonna fallAnd what did you hear, my blue-eyed son?And what did you hear, my darling young one?I heard the sound of a thunder, it roared out a warnin’Heard the roar of a wave that could drown the whole worldHeard one hundred drummers whose hands were a-blazin’Heard ten thousand whisperin’ and nobody listenin’Heard one person starve, I heard many people laughin’Heard the song of a poet who died in the gutterHeard the sound of a clown who cried in the alleyAnd it’s a hard, and it’s a hard, it’s a hard, it’s a hardAnd it’s a hard rain’s a-gonna fallOh, who did you meet, my blue-eyed son?Who did you meet, my darling young one?I met a young child beside a dead ponyI met a white man who walked a black dogI met a young woman whose body was burningI met a young girl, she gave me a rainbowI met one man who was wounded in loveI met another man who was wounded with hatredAnd it’s a hard, it’s a hard, it’s a hard, it’s a hardIt’s a hard rain’s a-gonna fallOh, what’ll you do now, my blue-eyed son?Oh, what’ll you do now, my darling young one?I’m a-goin’ back out ’fore the rain starts a-fallin’I’ll walk to the depths of the deepest black forestWhere the people are many and their hands are all emptyWhere the pellets of poison are flooding their watersWhere the home in the valley meets the damp dirty prisonWhere the executioner’s face is always well hiddenWhere hunger is ugly, where souls are forgottenWhere black is the color, where none is the numberAnd I’ll tell it and think it and speak it and breathe itAnd reflect it from the mountain so all souls can see itThen I’ll stand on the ocean until I start sinkin’But I’ll know my song well before I start singin’And it’s a hard, it’s a hard, it’s a hard, it’s a hardIt’s a hard rain’s a-gonna fall
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With proud thanksgiving, a mother for her children,
England mourns for her dead across the sea.
Flesh of her flesh they were, spirit of her spirit,
Fallen in the cause of the free.
Solemn the drums thrill; Death august and royal
Sings sorrow up into immortal spheres,
There is music in the midst of desolation
And a glory that shines upon our tears.
They went with songs to the battle, they were young,
Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow.
They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted;
They fell with their faces to the foe.
They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.
They mingle not with their laughing comrades again;
They sit no more at familiar tables of home;
They have no lot in our labour of the day-time;
They sleep beyond England's foam.
But where our desires are and our hopes profound,
Felt as a well-spring that is hidden from sight,
To the innermost heart of their own land they are known
As the stars are known to the Night;
As the stars that shall be bright when we are dust,
Moving in marches upon the heavenly plain;
As the stars that are starry in the time of our darkness,
To the end, to the end, they remain.
"For the Fallen"
-Laurence Binyon
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"This idea of purity and you're never compromised and you're always politically woke and all that stuff — you should get over that quickly," Obama told a crowd in Chicago.
He added:
"I do get a sense sometimes now among certain young people, and this is accelerated by social media, that the way of me making change is to be as judgmental as possible about other people and that's enough.
"Like if I tweet or hashtag about how you didn't do something right…. then I can sit back and feel pretty good about myself because: 'Man, did you see how woke I was? I called you out.'"
"The world is messy," the 44th US president said. "There are ambiguities. People who do really good stuff have flaws. People who you are fighting may love their kids and, you know, share certain things with you."
"That is not activism," he concluded. "That is not bringing about change. If all you're doing is casting stones, you are probably not going to get that far."
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DebateArt.com
Keep Frankie for Hallows
put supadudz in the hall of fame
instead of ill feeling of anger and shame
instead of accusing and grousing and flame
put supadudz in the hall of fame
put supadudz in the hall of fame
instead of troll loosing and losing insane
instead of complaining of raining and pain
put supadudz in the hall of fame
put supadudz in the hall of fame
instead of the panic of main depressives
instead of the drama of llamas deranged
put supadudz in the hall of fame
su-pa-pa dudz papa su-pa-pa-dudz
su-pa-pa dudz papa su-pa-pa-dudz
su-pa-pa dudz papa su-pa-pa-dudz
su-pa-pa dudz papa sup-pa-pa-dudz
put supadudz in the hall of fame
instead of ill feeling of anger and shame
instead of accusing and grousing and flame
put supadudz in the hall of fame
put supadudz in the hall of fame
instead of the panic of manic depressives
instead of the drama of llamas deranged
put supadudz in the hall of flame
put supadudz in the hall of fame
instead of troll loosing and losing insane
instead of complaining of raining and pain
put supadudz in the hall of fame
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Personal
I.
We are as clouds that veil the midnight moon;
How restlessly they speed and gleam and quiver,
Streaking the darkness radiantly! yet soon
Night closes round, and they are lost for ever:—
II.
Or like forgotten lyres whose dissonant strings
Give various response to each varying blast,
To whose frail frame no second motion brings
One mood or modulation like the last.
III.
We rest—a dream has power to poison sleep;
We rise—one wandering thought pollutes the day;
We feel, conceive or reason, laugh or weep,
Embrace fond woe, or cast our cares away:—
IV.
It is the same!—For, be it joy or sorrow,
The path of its departure still is free;
Man's yesterday may ne'er be like his morrow;
Nought may endure but Mutability.
"Mutability"
- PB Shelley
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Personal
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Personal
Shine, Perishing Republic
While this America settles in the mould of its vulgarity, heavily thickening
to empire
And protest, only a bubble in the molten mass, pops and sighs out, and the
mass hardens,
I sadly smiling remember that the flower fades to make fruit, the fruit rots
to make earth.
Out of the mother; and through the spring exultances, ripeness and decadence;
and home to the mother.
You making haste haste on decay: not blameworthy; life is good, be it stubbornly
long or suddenly
A mortal splendor: meteors are not needed less than mountains:
shine, perishing republic.
But for my children, I would have them keep their distance from the thickening
center; corruption
Never has been compulsory, when the cities lie at the monster's feet there
are left the mountains.
And boys, be in nothing so moderate as in love of man, a clever servant,
insufferable master.
There is the trap that catches noblest spirits, that caught – they say –
God, when he walked on earth.
-Robinson Jeffers
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Personal
you may not believe it
but there are people
who go through life with
very little
friction or
distress.
they dress well, eat
well, sleep well.
they are contented with
their family
life.
they have moments of
grief
but all in all
they are undisturbed
and often feel
very good.
and when they die
it is an easy
death, usually in their
sleep.
you may not believe
it
but such people do
exist.
but I am not one of
them.
oh no, I am not one
of them,
I am not even near
to being
one of
them
but they are
there
and I am
here.
“The Aliens”
-Charles Bukowski
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"Mistah Kurtz - he dead."
A penny for the Old Guy
I
We are the hollow men
We are the stuffed men
Leaning together
Headpiece filled with straw. Alas!
Our dried voices, when
We whisper together
Are quiet and meaningless
As wind in dry grass
or rats' feet over broken glass
In our dry cellar
Shape without form, shade without colour,
Paralysed force, gesture without motion;
Those who have crossed
With direct eyes, to death's other kingdom
Remember us - if at all - not as lost
Violent souls, but only
As the hollow men
The stuffed men.
II
Eyes I dare not meet in dreams
In death's dream kingdom
These do not appear:
There, the eyes are
Sunlight on a broken column
There, is a tree swinging
And voices are
In the wind's singing
More distant and more solemn
Than a fading star.
Let me be no nearer
In death's dream kingdom
Let me also wear
Such deliberate disguises
Rat's coat, crowskin, crossed staves
In a field
Behaving as the wind behaves
No nearer -
Not that final meeting
In the twilight kingdom
III
This is the dead land
This is cactus land
Here the stone images
Are raised, here they receive
The supplication of a dead man's hand
Under the twinkle of a fading star.
Is it like this
In death's other kingdom
Waking alone
At the hour when we are
Trembling with tenderness
Lips that would kiss
Form prayers to broken stone.
IV
The eyes are not here
There are no eyes here
In this valley of dying stars
In this hollow valley
This broken jaw of our lost kingdoms
In this last of meeting places
We grope together
And avoid speech
Gathered on this beach of this tumid river
Sightless, unless
The eyes reappear
As the perpetual star
Multifoliate rose
Of death's twilight kingdom
The hope only
Of empty men.
V
Here we go round the prickly pear
Prickly pear prickly pear
Here we go round the prickly pear
At five o'clock in the morning.
Between the idea
And the reality
Between the motion
And the act
Falls the Shadow
For Thine is the Kingdom
Between the conception
And the creation
Between the emotion
And the response
Falls the Shadow
Life is very long
Between the desire
And the spasm
Between the potency
And the existence
Between the essence
And the descent
Falls the Shadow
For Thine is the Kingdom
For Thine is
Life is
For Thine is the
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but with a whimper.
"The Hollow Men"
-T. S. Eliot
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The official start of Halloween Two oh Nineteen
Nymph, nymph, what are your beads?
Green glass, goblin. Why do you stare at them?
Give them me.
No.
Give them me. Give them me.
No.
Then I will howl all night in the reeds,
Lie in the mud and howl for them.
Goblin, why do you love them so?
They are better than stars or water,
Better than voices of winds that sing,
Better than any man's fair daughter,
Your green glass beads on a silver ring.
Hush, I stole them out of the moon.
Give me your beads, I want them.
No.
I will howl in the deep lagoon
For your green glass beads, I love them so.
Give them me. Give them.
No.
-"Overheard on a Saltmarsh"
Harold Munro
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’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
“Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!”
He took his vorpal sword in hand;
Long time the manxome foe he sought—
So rested he by the Tumtum tree
And stood awhile in thought.
And, as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!
One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.
“And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!”
He chortled in his joy.
’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!”
Long time the manxome foe he sought—
So rested he by the Tumtum tree
And stood awhile in thought.
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!”
He chortled in his joy.
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
-Lewis Carroll "The Jabberwocky"
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Sup’s slackin.
So I’m volunteering @ this film festival this weekend & I’m taking the gondola out to free parking. It’s a really cool 2 mile transport over a ski mountain in 3 sections. I’ve never taken it at night before but it is awesome. It’s very dark and quiet and the stars are out in their millions. If you stare long
enough you get that feeling like Starship Earth.
At the halfway point, this really sexy, sharp dressed couple comes out of Allred’s- a fancy restaurant on the landing and jumps on followed by Guy Pearce. From their conversation, it’s clear the other guy is also a film actor but i couldn’t make him. This other guy is talking about underwater work and how he’s scared of heights and he’s afraid the gondola is going to get stuck & sure enough, a minute or two later the gondola shudders to a halt for five or six minutes. We’re trying to distract & comfort the guy a little & talked about how beautiful the sky was, and Pearce talked about a Billy Bragg American train song album and how he should make a gondola album. Willem Dafoe’s here. Martin Scorsese. Saw Ken Burns speak. I’m not sure I’m cool enough to be at this festival. Saw “The Aeronauts” which was excellent and watched “The Right Stuff” in a little outdoor park.
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"Under a juniper-tree the bones sang, scattered and shining
We are glad to be scattered, we did little good to each other,
Under a tree in the cool of the day, with the blessing of sand,
Forgetting themselves and each other, united
In the quiet of the desert. This is the land which ye
Shall divide by lot. And neither division nor unity
Matters. This is the land. We have our inheritance."
-from "Ash Wednesday" TS Eliot
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