LITTLE SPARROW
in desperate leaps,
clinging to life like a barnacle
on a doomed vessel,
destination unknown.
the defiant thrust
of one mighty voice
still pierces the airwaves.
ne regrette rien.
Here’s the original video, showing Bush swaying to the music of a cultural dance, sword in tow, locked arm in arm with a Saudi prince.
Here’s a You-tuber’s spoof, substituting a song that suggests a different take on the matter.
Now, now, let’s not be disrepectfull, shall we? ha ha. Humor has not, as far as I know, been banned. Yet.
Speaking of humor, in a 1999 interview with Tucker Carlson, Bush mocked Karla Tucker, then death row inmate later executed in Texas (he pursed his lips and mimicked, “Please ... don’t kill me”), and at a 2004 press corps dinner, peeking under his desk pretending to look for weapons of mass destruction, he laughed when he couldn’t find any—in both cases, apparently finding the subject of death a matter of great amusement. (The audience laughed, to0, at the "no WMDs." What does that say about us?)
Poking fun at the Bumbler-in-Chief doing his little sword dance on his trip abroad is one thing. Joking about someone dying, or massive numbers of someones dying, is quite another.
The little sword dance, the constant smirking, the hypocrisy; the thousands of deaths--on all sides--of this insane war; an executioner calmly detailing accounts of beheading in front of small children-- THAT is what I mean by Reality Disconnect.
I sometimes feel like we're living in a nightmare, orchestrated by comedians; the universe shakes its head in disbelief at the absurdity of it all.She lived a mostly introverted and reclusive life.... Throughout her adult life she rarely traveled outside of
Today, thanks to the Internet, we no longer have to hand-write letters and wait for the postman to deliver them. We can log on and "go" anywhere in the world, look at other people's travelogues and photos, watch international videos and hear the music of places we could never afford to visit personally. Granted, it's not the same as being there, but for a reclusive (or poverty-stricken) writer, it's the next best thing.
Another interesting thing about Dickinson was that she deliberately chose to publish less than a dozen of the almost 1,800 poems that she had written.[2] Why only those few, and what made her choose those particular poems over others? Imagine if she were alive today and assembling a chapbook of her best poems. Most poetry contests or publishers seem to want at least 40 poems. If you only had a dozen, it might not qualify.The work that was published during her lifetime was typically altered significantly by the publishers to fit the conventional poetic rules of the time. Dickinson's poems typically lacked titles ... and often utilized ... unconventional capitalization and punctuation. .[3]
Excessive capping is frowned on nowadays, and "the rules" for submission tell you to edit for punctuation and grammar before you send in your writing. Only the more famous among us (like e. e. cummings) can get away with deliberate, unconventional orthography.
But this is getting off topic a bit. I've sometimes found that people who never go anywhere are often better informed, more open-minded and at times infinitely more interesting than people who have "been there, done that" so often that they've become inured.
If you're a writer, though, and commiserating about a lack of material on which to base your next story or poem, remember Emily Dickinson. She wrote eighteen hundred poems and basically never left her house. Contrast that with the world traveler, coming back from having spent, say, eight months living among fifteen different cultures and all he can think to talk about is the joy or discomforts of his lodgings, or the fabulous or inclement weather, or the food.
Okay, that's unfair. Not everybody who travels is a writer and not every tourist comes back from a trip with a life-changing insight. I'm falling into the Apples and Oranges bin again! I'm just saying that people who never go anywhere may have been to more places than you can ever imagine--depending on how literal your translation of "been to" is. And those who've been "everywhere" (twice) may come back not having had a single reflection, sense of awe or concern, or anything other than "Been there, done that."
The writer, though, would probably milk it for all it's worth. I can see it all now. Everyone's out taking pictures of the magnificent sunset, and he's distracted, haunted by the eyes of the barefoot beggar, who would have gotten a quarter had it not been for his foul mouth and smelly clothes.
What is it you remember about trips you have taken, places you've been to, people you've encountered? It's how that information impacts you, stays with you, maybe changes you, that separates the Apples from the Oranges. (And that's not saying Apples are better than Oranges; only that some writers have a little inner antenna that hones into particular scenes and memories that non-writers may not consider noteworthy.)
It's all in what a writer does with what he has, I guess--and why he does (or does not) feel it necessary to go to (or leave) a place to write about what he "sees".
So I guess my question is--if it's true, if it really is true, that Bush and Cheney have indeed broken the law and committed what appears to be impeachable offenses under the U.S. Constitution--why are they being allowed to get away with it?
Notice I said "allowed." Sometimes people stay in abusive relationships and "allow" certain circumstances and situations to continue because they can't do anything about it, or because they fear retribution, or because they stand to lose everything (a job, their reputation, a way of life), or simply because they feel they have no other option. Granted, the downtrodden, the habitually marginalized, and those weak and physically or mentally abused, whether individually or as a group, may truly be incapable of affecting immediate or meaningful change but we're talking about a whole country here--the U.S.--that for whatever reason, is allowing its president and vice president to usurp the power and certain influential entities to dictate how things are going to be. The constitution begins with the words, "We the People." That's "We, the PEOPLE." Not, we, the Prez and VP. Not we, the corporations. Not we, the military-industrial complex. Not we, the pharmaceutical lobby. Not we, the "haves".
There’s something creepy about fog.
It’s heavy ...
it hovers ...
it obscures things.
A tugboat on the
as it plows through the icy waters.
My backyard’s full of sooty snow and choking cedars,
resembling a scene from