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ancianita
ancianita's Journal
ancianita's Journal
April 29, 2023
Every day is Arbor Day.
We join the world in celebrating trees.
There's a reason to love every single tree, but here are twenty.
Tree Poems, of course.
Twenty of the world's oldest trees.
April 25, 2023
Start 28:35
President Biden Delivers Remarks on Investing in America
President Biden discusses how his investing in America agenda is bringing manufacturing back, rebuilding the middle class, and creating good-paying union jobs.Start 28:35
April 25, 2023
On Recollection
MNEME begin. Inspire, ye sacred nine,
Your vent'rous Afric in her great design.
Mneme, immortal pow'r, I trace thy spring:
Assist my strains, while I thy glories sing:
The acts of long departed years, by thee
Recover'd, in due order rang'd we see:
Thy pow'r the long-forgotten calls from night,
That sweetly plays before the fancy's sight.
Mneme in our nocturnal visions pours
The ample treasure of her secret stores;
Swift from above the wings her silent flight
Through Phoebe's realms, fair regent of the night;
And, in her pomp of images display'd,
To the high-raptur'd poet gives her aid,
Through the unbounded regions of the mind,
Diffusing light celestial and refin'd.
The heav'nly phantom paints the actions done
By ev'ry tribe beneath the rolling sun.
Mneme, enthron'd within the human breast,
Has vice condemn'd, and ev'ry virtue blest.
How sweet the sound when we her plaudit hear?
Sweeter than music to the ravish'd ear,
Sweeter than Maro's entertaining strains
Resounding through the groves, and hills, and plains.
But how is Mneme dreaded by the race,
Who scorn her warnings and despise her grace?
By her unveil'd each horrid crime appears,
Her awful hand a cup of wormwood bears.
Days, years mispent, O what a hell of woe!
Hers the worst tortures that our souls can know.
Now eighteen years their destin'd course have run,
In fast succession round the central sun.
How did the follies of that period pass
Unnotic'd, but behold them writ in brass!
In Recollection see them fresh return,
And sure 'tis mine to be asham'd, and mourn.
O Virtue, smiling in immortal green,
Do thou exert thy pow'r, and change the scene;
Be thine employ to guide my future days,
And mine to pay the tribute of my praise.
Of Recollection such the pow'r enthron'd
In ev'ry breast, and thus her pow'r is own'd.
The wretch, who dar'd the vengeance of the skies,
At last awakes in horror and surprise,
By her alarm'd, he sees impending fate,
He howls in anguish, and repents too late.
But O! what peace, what joys are hers t' impart
To ev'ry holy, ev'ry upright heart!
Thrice blest the man, who, in her sacred shrine,
Feels himself shelter'd from the wrath divine!
On Imagination
THY various works, imperial queen, we see,
How bright their forms! how deck'd with pomp
by thee!
Thy wond'rous acts in beauteous order stand,
And all attest how potent is thine hand.
From Helicon's refulgent heights attend,
Ye sacred choir, and my attempts befriend:
To tell her glories with a faithful tongue,
Ye blooming graces, triumph in my song.
Now here, now there, the roving Fancy flies,
Till some lov'd object strikes her wand'ring eyes,
Whose silken fetters all the senses bind,
And soft captivity involves the mind.
Imagination! who can sing thy force?
Or who describe the swiftness of thy course?
Soaring through air to find the bright abode,
Th' empyreal palace of the thund'ring God,
We on thy pinions can surpass the wind,
And leave the rolling universe behind:
From star to star the mental optics rove,
Measure the skies, and range the realms above.
There in one view we grasp the mighty whole,
Or with new worlds amaze th' unbounded soul.
Though Winter frowns to Fancy's raptur'd eyes
The fields may flourish, and gay scenes arise;
The frozen deeps may break their iron bands,
And bid their waters murmur o'er the sands.
Fair Flora may resume her fragrant reign,
And with her flow'ry riches deck the plain;
Sylvanus may diffuse his honours round,
And all the forest may with leaves be crown'd:
Show'rs may descend, and dews their gems disclose,
And nectar sparkle on the blooming rose.
Such is thy pow'r, nor are thine orders vain,
O thou the leader of the mental train:
In full perfection all thy works are wrought,
And thine the sceptre o'er the realms of thought.
Before thy throne the subject-passions bow,
Of subject-passions sov'reign ruler thou;
At thy command joy rushes on the heart,
And through the glowing veins the spirits dart.
Fancy might now her silken pinions try
To rise from earth, and sweep th' expanse on high:
From Tithon's bed now might Aurora rise,
Her cheeks all glowing with celestial dies,
While a pure stream of light o'erflows the skies.
The monarch of the day I might behold,
And all the mountains tipt with radiant gold,
But I reluctant leave the pleasing views,
Which Fancy dresses to delight the Muse;
Winter austere forbids me to aspire,
And northern tempests damp the rising fire;
They chill the tides of Fancy's flowing sea,
Cease then, my song, cease the unequal lay.
More Wheatley
https://www.poemhunter.com/phillis-wheatley/
https://www.theatlantic.com/books/archive/2023/04/phillis-wheatley-biography-david-waldstreicher/673824/
30 Poems in 30 Days
Phillis WheatleyOn Recollection
MNEME begin. Inspire, ye sacred nine,
Your vent'rous Afric in her great design.
Mneme, immortal pow'r, I trace thy spring:
Assist my strains, while I thy glories sing:
The acts of long departed years, by thee
Recover'd, in due order rang'd we see:
Thy pow'r the long-forgotten calls from night,
That sweetly plays before the fancy's sight.
Mneme in our nocturnal visions pours
The ample treasure of her secret stores;
Swift from above the wings her silent flight
Through Phoebe's realms, fair regent of the night;
And, in her pomp of images display'd,
To the high-raptur'd poet gives her aid,
Through the unbounded regions of the mind,
Diffusing light celestial and refin'd.
The heav'nly phantom paints the actions done
By ev'ry tribe beneath the rolling sun.
Mneme, enthron'd within the human breast,
Has vice condemn'd, and ev'ry virtue blest.
How sweet the sound when we her plaudit hear?
Sweeter than music to the ravish'd ear,
Sweeter than Maro's entertaining strains
Resounding through the groves, and hills, and plains.
But how is Mneme dreaded by the race,
Who scorn her warnings and despise her grace?
By her unveil'd each horrid crime appears,
Her awful hand a cup of wormwood bears.
Days, years mispent, O what a hell of woe!
Hers the worst tortures that our souls can know.
Now eighteen years their destin'd course have run,
In fast succession round the central sun.
How did the follies of that period pass
Unnotic'd, but behold them writ in brass!
In Recollection see them fresh return,
And sure 'tis mine to be asham'd, and mourn.
O Virtue, smiling in immortal green,
Do thou exert thy pow'r, and change the scene;
Be thine employ to guide my future days,
And mine to pay the tribute of my praise.
Of Recollection such the pow'r enthron'd
In ev'ry breast, and thus her pow'r is own'd.
The wretch, who dar'd the vengeance of the skies,
At last awakes in horror and surprise,
By her alarm'd, he sees impending fate,
He howls in anguish, and repents too late.
But O! what peace, what joys are hers t' impart
To ev'ry holy, ev'ry upright heart!
Thrice blest the man, who, in her sacred shrine,
Feels himself shelter'd from the wrath divine!
On Imagination
THY various works, imperial queen, we see,
How bright their forms! how deck'd with pomp
by thee!
Thy wond'rous acts in beauteous order stand,
And all attest how potent is thine hand.
From Helicon's refulgent heights attend,
Ye sacred choir, and my attempts befriend:
To tell her glories with a faithful tongue,
Ye blooming graces, triumph in my song.
Now here, now there, the roving Fancy flies,
Till some lov'd object strikes her wand'ring eyes,
Whose silken fetters all the senses bind,
And soft captivity involves the mind.
Imagination! who can sing thy force?
Or who describe the swiftness of thy course?
Soaring through air to find the bright abode,
Th' empyreal palace of the thund'ring God,
We on thy pinions can surpass the wind,
And leave the rolling universe behind:
From star to star the mental optics rove,
Measure the skies, and range the realms above.
There in one view we grasp the mighty whole,
Or with new worlds amaze th' unbounded soul.
Though Winter frowns to Fancy's raptur'd eyes
The fields may flourish, and gay scenes arise;
The frozen deeps may break their iron bands,
And bid their waters murmur o'er the sands.
Fair Flora may resume her fragrant reign,
And with her flow'ry riches deck the plain;
Sylvanus may diffuse his honours round,
And all the forest may with leaves be crown'd:
Show'rs may descend, and dews their gems disclose,
And nectar sparkle on the blooming rose.
Such is thy pow'r, nor are thine orders vain,
O thou the leader of the mental train:
In full perfection all thy works are wrought,
And thine the sceptre o'er the realms of thought.
Before thy throne the subject-passions bow,
Of subject-passions sov'reign ruler thou;
At thy command joy rushes on the heart,
And through the glowing veins the spirits dart.
Fancy might now her silken pinions try
To rise from earth, and sweep th' expanse on high:
From Tithon's bed now might Aurora rise,
Her cheeks all glowing with celestial dies,
While a pure stream of light o'erflows the skies.
The monarch of the day I might behold,
And all the mountains tipt with radiant gold,
But I reluctant leave the pleasing views,
Which Fancy dresses to delight the Muse;
Winter austere forbids me to aspire,
And northern tempests damp the rising fire;
They chill the tides of Fancy's flowing sea,
Cease then, my song, cease the unequal lay.
More Wheatley
https://www.poemhunter.com/phillis-wheatley/
https://www.theatlantic.com/books/archive/2023/04/phillis-wheatley-biography-david-waldstreicher/673824/
April 25, 2023
Rachel Maddow Gives Historical Perspective On the Limits of Powerful Messengers On Media Platforms
Within 24 hours she lays out the Carlson thing in the media's history of profiting from FUD.
How no anchor is bigger than the platform. The FOX platform continues.
Whether it's Glenn Beck, Bill O'Reilly or Carlson who've left, FOX has a FUD formula that works in whatever new variation the eventual replacement anchor provides.
NYU's Jay Rosen claims that conservative media use "reverse verification" -- an academic version of FUD, imo.
Or as Chuck D called it 15 years ago -- the dumbassification of America.
It's still a fact that 7 million more Americans out-vote FUD addicts at the ballot box.
April 24, 2023
President Biden Meets With the Tennessee Three
"...We have a lot to discuss...Stay tuned..."
April 24, 2023
Among that court’s 5-4 rulings, Roberts was in the majority in every case but one. He cast an uncharacteristic vote in favor of abortion rights, a decision he said was compelled by a precedent from which he had dissented, and another blocking Trump’s bid to repeal immigration protections for “dreamers.”
Three months later, Ginsburg died.
Once, conservatives had found themselves reduced to griping about what Justice Antonin Scalia, in a 2007 campaign finance case, called Roberts’s “faux judicial restraint.” With the arrival of Barrett in late 2020, Roberts’s go-slow admonitions proved, for the most part, unpersuasive.
Now, the more conservative justices show little inclination to heed him — a phenomenon on painful display in last term’s abortion case. Roberts could summon no justices to support his middle-ground position, to uphold Mississippi’s 15-week abortion ban but stop short of overruling Roe v. Wade. Justice Samuel A. Alito Jr.'s majority opinion dismissed Roberts in almost sneering tones. “The concurrence’s most fundamental defect is its failure to offer any principled basis for its approach,” Alito wrote.
It was a dramatic turnabout from Roberts’s ascendant position just a year before. “This,” said one conservative lawyer, “was John’s worst nightmare.” ...History seems certain to remember the Roberts court in a different way than John Roberts once imagined, but he retains the ability to shape history’s verdict on his own performance.
The Tragedy of John Roberts
https://www.washingtonpost.com/opinions/2022/11/04/supreme-court-john-roberts-tragedy-ruth-marcus/Among that court’s 5-4 rulings, Roberts was in the majority in every case but one. He cast an uncharacteristic vote in favor of abortion rights, a decision he said was compelled by a precedent from which he had dissented, and another blocking Trump’s bid to repeal immigration protections for “dreamers.”
Three months later, Ginsburg died.
Once, conservatives had found themselves reduced to griping about what Justice Antonin Scalia, in a 2007 campaign finance case, called Roberts’s “faux judicial restraint.” With the arrival of Barrett in late 2020, Roberts’s go-slow admonitions proved, for the most part, unpersuasive.
Now, the more conservative justices show little inclination to heed him — a phenomenon on painful display in last term’s abortion case. Roberts could summon no justices to support his middle-ground position, to uphold Mississippi’s 15-week abortion ban but stop short of overruling Roe v. Wade. Justice Samuel A. Alito Jr.'s majority opinion dismissed Roberts in almost sneering tones. “The concurrence’s most fundamental defect is its failure to offer any principled basis for its approach,” Alito wrote.
It was a dramatic turnabout from Roberts’s ascendant position just a year before. “This,” said one conservative lawyer, “was John’s worst nightmare.” ...History seems certain to remember the Roberts court in a different way than John Roberts once imagined, but he retains the ability to shape history’s verdict on his own performance.
April 24, 2023
Unfortunate Coincidence
By the time you swear you're his,
Shivering and sighing,
And he vows his passion is
Infinite, undying -
Lady, make a note of this:
One of you is lying.
Ultimatum
I'm wearied of wearying love, my friend,
Of worry and strain and doubt;
Before we begin, let us view the end,
And maybe I'll do without.
There's never the pang that was worth the tear,
And toss in the night I won't-
So either you do or you don't, my dear,
Either you do or you don't!
The table is ready, so lay your cards
And if they should augur pain,
I'll tender you ever my kind regards
And run for the fastest train.
I haven't the will to be spent and sad;
My heart's to be gay and true-
Then either you don't or you do, my lad,
Either you don't or you do!
But Not Forgotten
Think, no matter where you stray,
That I shall go with you a way.
Though you may wander sweeter lands,
You will not soon forget my hands,
Nor yet the way I held my head,
Nor all the tremulous things I said.
You still will see me, small and white
And smiling, in the secret night,
And feel my arms about you when
The day comes fluttering back again.
I think, no matter where you be,
You’ll hold me in your memory
And keep my image, there without me,
By telling later loves about me..
The Passionate Freudian to His Love
Only name the day, and we'll fly away
In the face of old traditions,
To a sheltered spot, by the world forgot,
Where we'll park our inhibitions.
Come and gaze in eyes where the lovelight lies
As it psychoanalyzes,
And when once you glean what your fantasies mean
Life will hold no more surprises.
When you've told your love what you're thinking of
Things will be much more informal;
Through a sunlit land we'll go hand-in-hand,
Drifting gently back to normal.
While the pale moon gleams, we will dream sweet dreams,
And I'll win your admiration,
For it's only fair to admit I'm there
With a mean interpretation.
In the sunrise glow we will whisper low
Of the scenes our dreams have painted,
And when you're advised what they symbolized
We'll begin to feel acquainted.
So we'll gaily float in a slumber boat
Where subconscious waves dash wildly;
In the stars' soft light, we will say good-night—
And “good-night!” will put it mildly.
Our desires shall be from repressions free—
As it's only right to treat them.
To your ego's whims I will sing sweet hymns,
And ad libido repeat them.
With your hand in mine, idly we'll recline
Amid bowers of neuroses,
While the sun seeks rest in the great red west
We will sit and match psychoses.
So come dwell a while on that distant isle
In the brilliant tropic weather;
Where a Freud in need is a Freud indeed,
We'll always be Jung together.
More Parker
https://graciousquotes.com/dorothy-parker/
https://www.poemist.com/dorothy-parker
National Poetry Month -- 30 Poems in 30 Days
Dorothy ParkerUnfortunate Coincidence
By the time you swear you're his,
Shivering and sighing,
And he vows his passion is
Infinite, undying -
Lady, make a note of this:
One of you is lying.
Ultimatum
I'm wearied of wearying love, my friend,
Of worry and strain and doubt;
Before we begin, let us view the end,
And maybe I'll do without.
There's never the pang that was worth the tear,
And toss in the night I won't-
So either you do or you don't, my dear,
Either you do or you don't!
The table is ready, so lay your cards
And if they should augur pain,
I'll tender you ever my kind regards
And run for the fastest train.
I haven't the will to be spent and sad;
My heart's to be gay and true-
Then either you don't or you do, my lad,
Either you don't or you do!
But Not Forgotten
Think, no matter where you stray,
That I shall go with you a way.
Though you may wander sweeter lands,
You will not soon forget my hands,
Nor yet the way I held my head,
Nor all the tremulous things I said.
You still will see me, small and white
And smiling, in the secret night,
And feel my arms about you when
The day comes fluttering back again.
I think, no matter where you be,
You’ll hold me in your memory
And keep my image, there without me,
By telling later loves about me..
The Passionate Freudian to His Love
Only name the day, and we'll fly away
In the face of old traditions,
To a sheltered spot, by the world forgot,
Where we'll park our inhibitions.
Come and gaze in eyes where the lovelight lies
As it psychoanalyzes,
And when once you glean what your fantasies mean
Life will hold no more surprises.
When you've told your love what you're thinking of
Things will be much more informal;
Through a sunlit land we'll go hand-in-hand,
Drifting gently back to normal.
While the pale moon gleams, we will dream sweet dreams,
And I'll win your admiration,
For it's only fair to admit I'm there
With a mean interpretation.
In the sunrise glow we will whisper low
Of the scenes our dreams have painted,
And when you're advised what they symbolized
We'll begin to feel acquainted.
So we'll gaily float in a slumber boat
Where subconscious waves dash wildly;
In the stars' soft light, we will say good-night—
And “good-night!” will put it mildly.
Our desires shall be from repressions free—
As it's only right to treat them.
To your ego's whims I will sing sweet hymns,
And ad libido repeat them.
With your hand in mine, idly we'll recline
Amid bowers of neuroses,
While the sun seeks rest in the great red west
We will sit and match psychoses.
So come dwell a while on that distant isle
In the brilliant tropic weather;
Where a Freud in need is a Freud indeed,
We'll always be Jung together.
More Parker
https://graciousquotes.com/dorothy-parker/
https://www.poemist.com/dorothy-parker
April 23, 2023
...Tim Wise has always been an expert on the systems and evidence of white male privilege, systemic racism and racial justice. He is the first to say that his being male and white is no kind of proof of progress by white males and their systems.
35:50 mark -- That with every generation, the belief is "enough has been done." That every generation has failed to see the race injustices right in front of it. It's the obvious basis of white (and male) privilege:
Wise:
"... When you don't have to know better you won't know better because you have the luxury of being oblivious. That is a criticism of how white supremacy affects the thinking of white folks and makes it hard for us to see what's right in front of us until 50 years later...
Grandma...mom and dad didn't think it was such a big deal... which is probably why they don't want kids seeing those books ... because it could have been them in those photos of history...you just don't want to find out... so it's left out, but we have to make sure not to do it.
This is the part that often gets left out, not just by racial critics, but by those who were in the racial justice movements. We can't leave this out:
Racial justice isn't charity work.
This is not something white people outta do FOR Black people or for folks of color, more broadly.
This is not charity work.
This is self-help work. This system of racial inequity is also unhealthy for us...
Just like I would argue that sexism and patriarchy and misogyny are bad for men because they teach us a particular way of being a man, which, if you haven't noticed, is an incredibly dysfunctional way of being in the world. Not just for women but even for ourselves and the boys that we raise...
We need to be concerned about racial inequity for our own sake, as well..."
Tim Wise Lecture on White Privilege, Systemic Racism and Racial Justice
...Tim Wise has always been an expert on the systems and evidence of white male privilege, systemic racism and racial justice. He is the first to say that his being male and white is no kind of proof of progress by white males and their systems.
35:50 mark -- That with every generation, the belief is "enough has been done." That every generation has failed to see the race injustices right in front of it. It's the obvious basis of white (and male) privilege:
Wise:
"... When you don't have to know better you won't know better because you have the luxury of being oblivious. That is a criticism of how white supremacy affects the thinking of white folks and makes it hard for us to see what's right in front of us until 50 years later...
Grandma...mom and dad didn't think it was such a big deal... which is probably why they don't want kids seeing those books ... because it could have been them in those photos of history...you just don't want to find out... so it's left out, but we have to make sure not to do it.
This is the part that often gets left out, not just by racial critics, but by those who were in the racial justice movements. We can't leave this out:
Racial justice isn't charity work.
This is not something white people outta do FOR Black people or for folks of color, more broadly.
This is not charity work.
This is self-help work. This system of racial inequity is also unhealthy for us...
Just like I would argue that sexism and patriarchy and misogyny are bad for men because they teach us a particular way of being a man, which, if you haven't noticed, is an incredibly dysfunctional way of being in the world. Not just for women but even for ourselves and the boys that we raise...
We need to be concerned about racial inequity for our own sake, as well..."
April 23, 2023
I Want to Apologize to all the Women
i want to apologize to all the women
i have called pretty
before i’ve called them intelligent or brave.
i am sorry i made it sound as though
something as simple as what you’re born with
is the most you have to be proud of
when your spirit has crushed mountains
from now on i will say things like, you are resilient
or, you are extraordinary.
not because i don’t think you’re pretty.
but because you are so much more than that
Timeless
they convinced me
i only had a few good years left
before i was replaced by a girl younger than me
as though men yield power with age
but women grow into irrelevance
they can keep their lies
for i have just gotten started
i feel as though i just left the womb
my twenties are the warm-up
for what i'm really about to do
wait till you see me in my thirties
now that will be a proper introduction
to the nasty, wild, woman in me,
how can i leave before the party's started
rehearsals begin at forty
i ripen with age
i do not come with an expiration date
and now
for the main event
curtains up at fifty
let's begin the show
More Kaur
https://www.best-poems.net/rupi-kaur/i-want-to-apologize-to-all-the-women.html
https://www.theatlantic.com/technology/archive/2018/10/rupi-kaur-instagram-poet-entrepreneur/572746/?utm_source=twb
30 Poems in 30 Days
Rupi KaurI Want to Apologize to all the Women
i want to apologize to all the women
i have called pretty
before i’ve called them intelligent or brave.
i am sorry i made it sound as though
something as simple as what you’re born with
is the most you have to be proud of
when your spirit has crushed mountains
from now on i will say things like, you are resilient
or, you are extraordinary.
not because i don’t think you’re pretty.
but because you are so much more than that
Timeless
they convinced me
i only had a few good years left
before i was replaced by a girl younger than me
as though men yield power with age
but women grow into irrelevance
they can keep their lies
for i have just gotten started
i feel as though i just left the womb
my twenties are the warm-up
for what i'm really about to do
wait till you see me in my thirties
now that will be a proper introduction
to the nasty, wild, woman in me,
how can i leave before the party's started
rehearsals begin at forty
i ripen with age
i do not come with an expiration date
and now
for the main event
curtains up at fifty
let's begin the show
More Kaur
https://www.best-poems.net/rupi-kaur/i-want-to-apologize-to-all-the-women.html
https://www.theatlantic.com/technology/archive/2018/10/rupi-kaur-instagram-poet-entrepreneur/572746/?utm_source=twb
Profile Information
Gender: Do not displayHometown: New England, The South, Midwest
Home country: USA
Current location: Sarasota
Member since: Sat Mar 5, 2011, 12:32 PM
Number of posts: 36,128
