Three Snippets Of Poetry & Prose

From ‘The Wind Bloweth Where It Listeth’

“Live like the wind, he said, “unfettered,
And love me while you can;
And when you will, and can be bettered,
Go to the better man.’

Countee Cullen (found here)

From ‘Under Ben Bulben’

Cast a cold eye
On life, on death.
Horseman, pass by!

W.B. Yeats (found here)

From Shirley Jackson’s ‘The Lottery:’

“Well, now.” Mr. Summers said soberly, “guess we better get started, get this over with, so’s we can go back to work. Anybody ain’t here?’

The PDF of ‘The Lottery’ was found at Middlebury College, of all places.

Maybe it’s time for another read?:

A Link To Some Atlantic City Photos

Via Mick Hartley via Creative Boom-In Atlantic City: Photographs by Timothy Roberts that show its ‘last hurrah’ following years of struggle

Long ago in Atlantic City: I got my palm read by a girl under an aluminum scaffold covered with a cheap, white tarp.  It cost $15. She took my hand in hers and led me through the other booths to a canvas folding chair.  She traced my palm lines and told me I would be rich.  There was salt in the air, and a smell of tar rising from the boardwalk.  A fly kept landing on her cheek and she kept extending her lower lip, exhaling a breath to blow it away.  She was busy looking into my hand, my eyes, then off into the sea or seemingly within herself, as if divining some deeper meaning.  The fly would land again, crawl slowly over her cheek, and rub its two front legs together and over its eyes.

Her hand was soft.

As posted:

Glitzy:

From ‘Atlantic City Waiter’ by Countee Cullen

Just one stanza might do, to show there are many eyes you see, that may also see you:

‘For him to be humble who is proud
Needs colder artifice;
Though half his pride is disavowed,
In vain the sacrifice.’

It’s also the backdrop of a hard-luck guy with mob connections at the end of his rope. Desperate hopes.

As previously posted, and probably relevant enough to post here: Bowling Alone and Charles Murray:

The best poems I could find, but we’re not quite there to summer yet:

A Long Branch Song

Some days in May, little stars
Winked all over the ocean. The blue
Barely changed all morning and afternoon:

The chimes of the bank’s bronze clock;
The hoarse voice of Cookie, hawking
The Daily Record for thirty-five years

Robert Pinsky

What is the poet looking at?:

Neither Far Out Nor In Deep

The people along the sand
All turn and look one way.
They turn their back on the land.
They look at the sea all day. 

As long as it takes to pass
A ship keeps raising its hull;
The wetter ground like glass
Reflects a standing gull. 

The land may vary more;
But wherever the truth may be—
The water comes ashore,
And the people look at the sea. 

They cannot look out far.
They cannot look in deep.
But when was that ever a bar
To any watch they keep

Robert Frost

Another Middlebury Update-A Most Cowardly Endeavor

What a shame.

An apology from the PoliSci chair to the ‘community’ at Middlebury:

Earlier this year I, as chair of the political science department, offered a symbolic departmental co-sponsorship to the Charles Murray event in the same way that I had done with other events in the past: on my own, without wider consultation. This was a mistake.’

You’ll have to look elsewhere for vigorous displays of moral courage, character, and independence of mind.

If an echo-chamber of shared belief and distraught racial-identity politics rewarded by a bureaucratic lack of imagination’s your thing: Middlebury might just be for you!

Truthfully, the battle was probably lost at least a generation ago, in many minds, as the logic of radical ideology, once embraced, tends to keep perpetuating and reinforcing itself.

Here’s one answer [above] to Charles Murray’s question of what happens next in the face of actual violence. In his words:

Much of the meaning of the Middlebury affair depends on what Middlebury does next. So far, Middlebury’s stance has been exemplary. The administration agreed to host the event. President Patton did not cancel it even after a major protest became inevitable. She appeared at the event, further signaling Middlebury’s commitment to academic freedom. The administration arranged an ingenious Plan B that enabled me to present my ideas and discuss them with Professor Stanger even though the crowd had prevented me from speaking in the lecture hall. I wish that every college in the country had the backbone and determination that Middlebury exhibited.’

Here’s possibly another answer

48 Middlebury professors signed the following document (WSJ paywall warning…speech on public affairs and civil discourse ain’t necessarily free).