Saturday, March 23, 2019

Slip Sliding Away

The whole "Alex Jones is not the slippery slope to die on" nonsense-You all done let every other slope slide past.

Can't even conserve The Laura Ingalls Wilder Award.
Kipling gone

Twain gone.

What good are you

You hollow stuffed empty men
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, 
Paralyzed force, gesture without motion;

Describes every last one of you
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 kingdom

every monument to history torn down, lest it offend
This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but with a whimper.
excerpts were stolen from T.S. Elliot of course

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