Steve (as 41oo) wrote:
I hope this is not going to provoke comments about Italian politicians like their armored vehicles, having more reverse than forward gears. :wink:
I'm sure that's just a museal response
Museal?
Good word walter, never heard it before but I know exactly what you mean. (And probably only you and I do!)
Is that like "Stan 'The Man' Museal"?
Give me a break, the first pitch of the season was just thrown out yesterday!
Nimh -- In fact your analysis would seem to be right on target, given the rest of the report I heard today (and maybe should have added). The Iraqis who are returning to their country are returning to their Family and their Land, not to Saddam.
James Morrison -- I think maybe you haven't realized how much Bush & Co. are loathed, here in America and overseas, how much of a threat he represents to many, how his America is a frightening, not a friendly, power. If there are Americans who feel this way -- frightened by their own leadership -- then think how those who are at the other end of the gun must feel!
cicerone imposter wrote:Steve's quote: "I hope this is not going to provoke comments about Italian politicians like their armored vehicles, having more reverse than forward gears." Where was all this wit at our London Gathering? LOL
c.i.
Hi ci
perhaps I was trying to get "a word in edgeways"?!
Shame on me, guys. I just got back from a week away and that poem may have been on an A2K poetry thread. I saw it, was stricken, and posted it here. I will find the referrence.
Bill, I have thought about this issue so much. Especially after yesterday's awful scene with the van and the 9-10 civilian lives lost.
Of course, the young shooter thought he or his group were under threat. One can easily picture the scene and the fear. We cannot fault him or them. We, alone, have placed ourselves in this awful awful situation. They want to live. We do, too. As you said, Bill. They are just grunts. But are they? There seems to be emerging an heroic come-back-to-defend-my-country group, as well as many living in Iraq who may feel the same way. We are the outsiders; we are the invaders. Suddenly, they seem to be organizing against us, which is not unexpected (or would not have been, if our intelligence had done its due diligence) or unusual or non-historical in the area. The whole emerging picture is awesome, fearsomely fascinating, and I feel as if I am staring in horror at something surreal. We can, of course, crush them ultimately. We have the strength, the technology, the numbers. My God, is this how we want the world to see us?
Steve, you said Hi c.i. That is so cool. I knew what you meant. Sumac sent me pics of the London meeting. I had never seen: you, c.i., McTags, guatam, and Walter and I looked at the photos again and again. Now I know you!
Quote:Is that like "Stan 'The Man' Museal"?
Bill W
Good try... but wrong I'm afraid. As Walter has invented this word, I'll leave it up to him to explain its meaning.
I could tell you, but I just get this childish sense of delight at having a little secret.
Okay Walter - let us in! Please!
On the other hand, if I send you my bank details....
The Man I Killed was by Thomas Hardy.
museal...is it Euro-slang? C'mon, guys...
Kara
As I've said on the thread for our gathering, meeting someone you already know was a strange experience, let alone a whole bunch of people. Only Gautam looked anything like his avatar.
Yes, It's now over 500 Iraqi civilians, and counting..... ;( c.i.
Yes its euro slang all right.
Recently minted by Walter, who doesn't seem to be around for the moment, and my lips (unless in consideration of a reasonable amount of money) are sealed.
Here's WS Merwin's poem which I heard as it was read aloud yesterday (http://freshair.npr.org/day_fa.jhtml?display=day&todayDate=03/31/2003) It echoes my own thoughts and feelings about this "war." NB -- I'm transcribing it from a taped radio interview about Poets Against The War and will not even attempt the intended layout -- but will paste it in as prose:
OGRES
All night waking to the sound of light rain falling softly through the leaves in the quiet valley below the window, and to Paula lying here asleep beside me, and to the murmur beside the bed of the dogs snoring like small waves coming ashore, I am amazed at the fortune of this moment, in the whole of the dark this unspoken favor, while it is with us, this breathing peace.
And then I think of the frauds in office at this instant devising their massacres in my name. What part of me could they have come from? Were they made of my loathing itself and dredged from the bitter depths of my shame?
from Robert Wright in Slate... a very good piece
http://slate.msn.com/id/2080976/
from my very favorite Jewish Canadian boy...
Quote:"Democracy"
It's coming through a hole in the air,
from those nights in Tiananmen Square.
It's coming from the feel
that this ain't exactly real,
or it's real, but it ain't exactly there.
From the wars against disorder,
from the sirens night and day,
from the fires of the homeless,
from the ashes of the gay:
Democracy is coming to the U.S.A.
It's coming through a crack in the wall;
on a visionary flood of alcohol;
from the staggering account
of the Sermon on the Mount
which I don't pretend to understand at all.
It's coming from the silence
on the dock of the bay,
from the brave, the bold, the battered
heart of Chevrolet:
Democracy is coming to the U.S.A.
It's coming from the sorrow in the street,
the holy places where the races meet;
from the homicidal bitchin'
that goes down in every kitchen
to determine who will serve and who will eat.
From the wells of disappointment
where the women kneel to pray
for the grace of God in the desert here
and the desert far away:
Democracy is coming to the U.S.A.
Sail on, sail on
O mighty Ship of State!
To the Shores of Need
Past the Reefs of Greed
Through the Squalls of Hate
Sail on, sail on, sail on, sail on.
It's coming to America first,
the cradle of the best and of the worst.
It's here they got the range
and the machinery for change
and it's here they got the spiritual thirst.
It's here the family's broken
and it's here the lonely say
that the heart has got to open
in a fundamental way:
Democracy is coming to the U.S.A.
It's coming from the women and the men.
O baby, we'll be making love again.
We'll be going down so deep
the river's going to weep,
and the mountain's going to shout Amen!
It's coming like the tidal flood
beneath the lunar sway,
imperial, mysterious,
in amorous array:
Democracy is coming to the U.S.A.
Sail on, sail on ...
I'm sentimental, if you know what I mean
I love the country but I can't stand the scene.
And I'm neither left or right
I'm just staying home tonight,
getting lost in that hopeless little scream.
But I'm stubborn as those garbage bags
that Time cannot decay,
I'm junk but I'm still holding up
this little wild bouquet:
Democracy is coming to the U.S.A.
My favorite "Jewish Canadian boy...." too!
Steve? Walter? You are in the land of Nod, at this hour.
Is the "museal" response inspired by one's muse?
