Let mans Soule be a Spheare, and then, in this,
The intelligence that moves, devotion is;
And as the other Spheares, by being growne,
Subject to forraigne motions, lose their owne;
And being by others hurried every day,
Scarce in a yeare their natural forme obey.
Pleasure or businesse, so, our Soules admit,
For their first mover, and are whirld by it.
Hence is ite, that I am carryed towards the West this day,
When my Soules forme bends toward the East.
There I should see a Sunne, by rising set,
And by that setting endlesse day beget;
But that Christ on this Crosse, did rise and fall,
Sinne had eternally benighted all.
Yet dare ['almost be glad, I do not see,
That spectacle of too much weight for meet;
Who sees Gods face, that is selfe life, must dye;
What a death were it then to see God dye?
It made his owne Lieutenant Nature shrinke,
It made his footstoole crack, and the Sunne winke.
Could I behold those hands which span the Poles,
And tune all spheares at once, peirc'd with those holes?
Could I behold that endlesse height which is Zenith to us,
And to'our Antipodes, Humbled below us?
Or that blood which is The seat of all our Soules, if not of his.
Make curt of dust, or that flesh which was worne
By God, for his apparel!, rag'd, and tome?
If on these things I durst not looke, durst I
Upon his miserable mother cast mine eye,
Who was Gods partner here, and furnish'd thus,
Halfe of that Sacrifice, which ransom'd us?
Though these things, as I ride, be from mine eye,
They'are present yet unto my memory,
For that looks towards them; and thou look'st towards mee.
O Saviour, as thou hang'st upon the tree;
I turne my backe to thee, but to receive
Corrections, till thy mercies bid thee leave.
O thinke mee worth thine anger, punish mee,
Burne off my rusts, and my deformity,
Restore shine Image, so much, by thy grace,
That thou may'st know mee, and I'll turne my face.
--John Donne
This is simply, one of my favorite poems; and Donne is one of my favorite writers.
Its About The Economy, Stupid!
Yesterday, the citizens and residents of these United States learned that the Manufacturing Sector of our economy puked out another 20,000 good jobs when Caterpillar disgorged that total from its employment ranks.
That's astonishing! Reported cross-country with no emotion or inflection in the words of talking heads and scribbling, fear-filled scribes, we all digested the news with a head shake, a forlorn sigh, and a dismissal. It was on to simple suppers and another pull on our beverage of choice.
Our new President, seven days into his "Change You Can Believe In" campaign, genuflected to the power brokers he is beholden to, by upholding and defending Federal and state Clean Air mandates that North American auto manufacturers simply cannot meet at present. Thank you, Mr. President.
I was taught, oh, so many years ago, decades even; that it was my responsibility--along with every other citizen, to understand the tenets, rules and values of this democratic republic. And, by way of that understanding, speak out and challenge the Federal Government if and when it strayed from it's duty:"of the people, by the people and for the people..."
I sincerely believed that I could do that just by participating in the Democratic Process.
But something dark and sinister happened along the way. An Oligarchy of the rich and beautiful, that had lead fairly isolated lives here in the United States; combined with their kindred spirits world-wide. Suddenly, instead of having the power to influence my local and regional legislators simply by reminding such that they served me as a citizen; I saw, we all saw, that our elected representation listened most keenly not to us, but to only those that delivered vast sums of money into political PACS.
Life in these great United States evolved from "one man, one vote", to the new Golden Rule: He who has the gold, rules.
So it is that we march ever toward repression, tho' mad as hell. Raise Up Your Glass to the fall of the Militia, the emergence of benevolent One World Government, Groupspeak as the new gospel, and holding all possessions in common.
I never thought losing my voice, and my individual rights and responsibilities could be this cruel or this frustrating.
To assuage my fractured ego, I'll take my cupcake and milk into the tv room, plug in a DVD of another profane comedian, and bliss out on ignorance and nothingness.
God Bless America.
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