Happy Thanksgiving!

Hi everybody!

Me and my buddies William S. Burroughs and Lee Greenwood would like to wish everybody a wonderful Thanksgiving.

Thanks for all of the memories, America!

Carl Sagan’s 1st chapter of Pale Blue Dot always gives me the shivers…

Here’s a taste…
.

“…from behind those empty walls…”

Brilliant video imho…

Serj Tankian - Empty Walls

Empty walls
Empty walls
Pretentious adventures
Dismissive apprehention
Dont waste your time
On coffins today
When we decline
from the confines of our mind
Dont waste your time
On coffins today

Dont you see their bodies burning
Desolate and full of yearning
Dying of anticipation
Choking from intoxication
Dont you see their bodies burning
Desolate and full of yearning
Dying of anticipation
Choking from intoxication
I want you to be left behind those empty walls
Told you to see from behind those empty walls

Empty walls
When we decline
from the confines of our mind
Dont waste your time
On coffins today

Dont you see their bodies burning
Desolate and full of yearning
Dying of anticipation
Chocing from intoxication
Dont you see their bodies burning
Desolate and full of yearning
Dying of anticipation
Choking from intoxication
I want you to be left behind those empty walls
Told you to see from behind those empty walls
I want you to be left behind those empty walls
I told you to see from behind those empty walls
from behind those empty walls
from behind those empty walls
the walls
from behind those empty walls

I loved you yesterday,
(From behind those empty walls…)
Before you killed my family,
(From behind those empty walls, the walls…)

Don’t you see their bodies burning?
Desolate and full of yearning,
Dying of anticipation,
Choking from intoxication,
Don’t you see their bodies burning,
Desolate and full of yearning,
(I want you…)
Dying of anticipation,
Choking from intoxication,
(To be left behind those empty…)
I want you to be left behind those empty walls,
Told you to see from behind those empty walls,
(Desolate and full of yearning, Dying of anticipation, Choking from intoxication…)
Want you to be left behind those empty walls,
(Don’t you see their bodies burning? Desolate and full of yearning, Dying of anticipation, Choking from intoxication…)
I told you to see from behind those empty walls,

(Fuck your empty walls, fuck your empty walls)
From behind those empty walls,
(Fuck your empty walls, fuck your empty walls)
From behind those fucking walls,
(Fuck your empty walls, fuck your empty walls)
From behind those goddamn walls,
Those walls!
Those walls!

Dulce et Decorum Est

In honor of the president’s recent ~~speech~~ attempt to prolong the Iraq War, I would like to share a poem written by a man named Wilfred Owen.

Wilfred Owen was born in England in 1893 and enlisted with England’s Manchester Regiment in 1917 at the height of World War I. Once he arrived on the western front, Owen lost all pretenses of romantic battle scenes and heroic wartime exploits. There was nothing glorious about the deaths of the young men who served in the army with him. They died brutally, painfully, and gruesomely.

The horrors of battle had a profound impact on Owen. He began to write poetry as a means of escape, documenting the senseless slaughter through a powerful and heartfelt language. While Owen might have become one of England’s most famous poets, he tragically perished during a skirmish that took place a week before the armistice agreement between the central and allied powers. Thankfully, his work has survived, even though he did not. It remains a powerful testimony to what war really means.

The title of this poem is an allusion to a line of verse written by an ancient Roman poet named Horace. It translates roughly as: “It is sweet and honorable to die for one’s country.”

Dulce et Decorum Est

WILFRED OWEN

Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,

Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,

Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs

And towards our distant rest began to trudge.

Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots

But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind;

Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots

Of tired, outstripped Five-Nines that dropped behind.

Gas! Gas! Quick, boys!-An ecstasy of fumbling,

Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time;

But someone still was yelling out and stumbling,

And flound’ring like a man in fire or lime . . .

Dim, through the misty panes and thick green light,

As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.

In all my dreams, before my helpless sight,

He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.

If in some smothering dreams you too could pace

Behind the wagon that we flung him in,

And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,

His hanging face, like a devil’s sick of sin;

If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood

Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,

Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud

Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,-

My friend, you would not tell with such high zest

To children ardent for some desperate glory,

The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est

Pro patria mori.

We’ve Got to Celebrate our Differences

This one is dedicated to our new Creationist friend. I hope we didn’t end our discussion on a sour note!

On Dr. Seuss and failed presidencies…

Back in 1974 Art Buchwald wrote a column for the Washington Post entitled “Richard M. Nixon Will You Please Go Now!” using Dr. Seuss’s “Marvin K. Mooney Will You Please Go Now!” as his template… In honor of that, I post this… I would hope both the late Dr. Seuss and Mr. Buchwald would agree with this…

Please read this aloud.

“George W. Bush will you please go now!
The time has come.
The time has come.
The time is now.
Just go.
Go.
Go!
I don’t care how.
You can go by foot.
You can go by cow.
George W. Bush will you please go now!
You can go on skates.
You can go on skis.
You can go in a hat.
But
Please go.
Please!
I don’t care.
You can go
By bike.
You can go
On a Zike-Bike
If you like.
If you like
You can go
In an old blue shoe.
Just go, go, GO!
Please do, do, do, DO!
George W. Bush
I don’t care how.
George W. Bush
Will you please
GO NOW!
You can go on stilts.
You can go by fish.
You can go in a Crunk-Car
If you wish.
If you wish
You may go
By lion’s tale.
Or stamp yourself
And go by mail.
George W. Bush
Don’t you know
The time has come
To go, go, GO!
Get on your way!
Please George W.!
You might like going in a Zumble-Zay.
You can go by balloon . . .
Or broomstick.
Or
You can go by camel
In a bureau drawer.
You can go by bumble-boat
. . . or jet.
I don’t care how you go.
Just get!
George W. Bush!
I don’t care how.
George W. Bush
Will you please
GO NOW!
I said
GO
And
GO
I meant . . .
The time had come
So . . .
George WENT.”

The Dead

Former poet laureate Billy Collins reads his poem “The Dead” with animation. As a side note, Collins has two poems appearing in EMC Publishing’s Grade 11 Literature: The American Experience. Available this November for only $79.99!