Wednesday, June 27, 2012

"Thoughtful men, once escaped...

coypouright Bootlegcircus@blogspot.com 2012 

been harassed by the usual oprichniki
but i have
a certain
 jollity of mind
pickled in the scorn of fortune
thanks  francois rabelais
rabelais believed in god
five days out of seven
he's got me beat

just read of an account of fiscal
mysteriousness
360 tons of united states paper currency
loaded onto pallets and flown to iraq
12 billion bucks
none of which is accounted for
this according to lou illar
an author who wrote
believe me, or your lying eyes
are we stupid or what

american student loans amount
 to almost a trillion bucks
they pay students to go to
college in denmark

but virtual classes are our future
and education will be more evenly
distributed among those that  seek it

in europe they had the velvet revolution
here we are going to have the
velcro revolution
everything will stick

looked at an employment ad for a
fashion editor at one of the local papers
yesterday
while i was rooting around in the library dumpster
for magazine recycleing i snatched a bag
with a copy of gq
gentlemens quarterly magazine
i read this magazine
i am amazed
are we stupid or what
i need to apply for this fashion
editor job
i have not worn long pants
or socks
for more than a month
my feet have a nice healthy glow
i am fuckin
fashionable enough
i need this job

but right now i need to
pack my stuff and
head for the suite van

fashion is a circus
mr cayetano

"Thoughtful men, once escaped from the
blinding influences of traditional
 prejudices, will find the lowly stock whence
man has sprung the best evidence of
the splendor of his capacities,
 and will discern in his long progress through
 the past, a reasonable ground of faith
in his attainment of a noble future."   T.H.Huxley

Friday, June 22, 2012

"To call war the soil..."

copyright bootlegcircus@blogspot.com

 i was sort of ready to go into a tirade about the state of the nation etc. but i'm tiraded out for the day

mr cayetano

 "To call war the soil of courage and virtue is like calling debauchery the soil of love." George Santayana


  Inversnaid  gerard manley hopkins
THIS darksome burn, horseback brown,
His rollrock highroad roaring down,
In coop and in comb the fleece of his foam
Flutes and low to the lake falls home.
A windpuff-bonnet of fáwn-fróth        5
Turns and twindles over the broth
Of a pool so pitchblack, féll-frówning,
It rounds and rounds Despair to drowning.
Degged with dew, dappled with dew
Are the groins of the braes that the brook treads through,        10
Wiry heathpacks, flitches of fern,
And the beadbonny ash that sits over the burn.
What would the world be, once bereft
Of wet and of wildness? Let them be left,
O let them be left, wildness and wet;        15
Long live the weeds and the wilderness yet.