Great post by Digby via Atrios.
If the true test of the vitality of a culture is whether or not it could, in principle, reproduce the forces that brought it into being, produce such people as those that made it great, then I think we've got some serious thinking to do.
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and the anger comes in whits of passion.. as the young man said... nothing could be written of the time and place of when he was, nothing could be said, but his own words locked within cabin walls and paited renditions of those he fathomed could understand himself.
who are you?... and where do you come from?
you without, you with... you i wish, would sing a sweet song as a bird along the windowledge...
unadorned with thought... unknowing of discrepancy...
madmunk of hitherland... west of the eastern shore... west of Lisbon's cobbelstone lores...
whimsy... giggling... unafraid, and painted pretty
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