Soul Food

My dear Uppity-ites:

We’ve endured a rough three-week blinding and soul-vacuuming focus on Little Anthony.  (Enough to turn one into a lez, FCS!). 

Anyway, past is not necessarily prologue, so let’s refresh our souls.  Nothing better suited to that task than poetry. I believe there are two immutable truths about poetry:

1.  We all NEED it, whether or not we’re conscious of that fact.

2.  We never get enough of it.

Yesterday, I received this poem by email (from this worthy site: Poemhunter) and, finding it remarkably powerful, I sent it to Aunt Upps.  Predictably, she loved it and suggested I post it for your delectation and our mutual edification. Good poems are better enjoyed in the sharing. 

So, here it is — a brilliant piece by the late, great, Edwin Brock.  (Read all about Mr. Brock here.)

Five Ways To Kill A Man

There are many cumbersome ways to kill a man.
You can make him carry a plank of wood
to the top of a hill and nail him to it. To do this
properly you require a crowd of people
wearing sandals, a cock that crows, a cloak
to dissect, a sponge, some vinegar and one
man to hammer the nails home.

Or you can take a length of steel,
shaped and chased in a traditional way,
and attempt to pierce the metal cage he wears.
But for this you need white horses,
English trees, men with bows and arrows,
at least two flags, a prince, and a
castle to hold your banquet in.

Dispensing with nobility, you may, if the wind
allows, blow gas at him. But then you need
a mile of mud sliced through with ditches,
not to mention black boots, bomb craters,
more mud, a plague of rats, a dozen songs
and some round hats made of steel.

In an age of aeroplanes, you may fly
miles above your victim and dispose of him by
pressing one small switch. All you then
require is an ocean to separate you, two
systems of government, a nation’s scientists,
several factories, a psychopath and
land that no-one needs for several years.

These are, as I began, cumbersome ways
to kill a man. Simpler, direct, and much more neat
is to see that he is living somewhere in the middle
of the twentieth century, and leave him there.

–Edwin Brock

Let’s have your thoughts on the piece.


132 Responses

  1. Wow NES! Have read it through three times- this poet gets it. (It’s early here and my vocabulary is suffering lack of coffee lol.)
    OT and for the record I hate this new comment log in- it used to be I typed a few letters in my name line and it autofilled the rest. Now I have to do the e-mail and name lines. GRR

  2. Mom, if you login to your blog, your login should carry over to all WP blogs and you won’t have to sign in.

  3. I have to tell you about my exchange with NES over this poem. Hoping to get permission to print it, NES, being the ferrett attorney she is, discovered quickly that he is dead. But since when would that stop a tenacious lawyer from getting what she wants. It was determined that we still needed permission, which left exhumation or waterboarding as options. Because he is dead, waterboarding had to be out of the question, because he is a floater. This brought me to the idea of getting a concrete block from my Uncle Louie, but we abandoned that idea and just threw caution to the wind and you are reading it. Well, that and, being the tenacious blogger I am, I googled the poem and deduced that if we were going to be in trouble, we would be at the back of the line, since many sites printed the poem before us.

    What you are reading is one of the top five poems of the 20th Century. It is studied in schools, but not in a Keats and Yeats kind of way. Mr Brock, in fact, wrote two of the five top poems of the 20th. What I find fascinating about it is the almost existential mood. In other words, Mr. Brock was a seriously depressed man when it came to considering the perceived hopeless condition of the world. I started to think of which existentialist would have written it if he were a poet during Brock’s time. But then, I always take the simple and make it complex. I’m that way.

    What a see here is a record of the crappiness of the 20th century, its lack of humanity and preoccupation of countries and peoples to kill one another off. I don’t see much of a change in the 21st, do you? If anything, it all seems stepped up.

    Inicidentally, Mr. Brock was a police officer during his poetry writing days. So I am certain he was aware of many more ways to kill a man at the time, but not en masse. I would imagine that, serving as a police officer had more than a little affect on his mood about mankind and the ongoing record of psychos who drive the need to kill off entire peoples. I wonder what he would think if he were here today, and how he would assess the new ways to kill a man that have emerged since he checked out pre-911 and the heavy jihad PR….not to mention the bubbling, festering and growing odious desire for a repeat holocaust. Who says history doesn’t repeat itself if man sleeps too deeply?

    I await my grade. I had more thoughts written down but the dog ate my work. Then I couldn’t rewrite my thoughts because I got up late. But I do expect a trophy for showing up at all. Everybody’s a winner!! I feel so…so contemporary!

  4. but the surest way of all to kill a human being,
    female or male, is to take away the freedom to choose
    a path toward right or left, whichever is the wiser for the day
    by corrupting all the paths and proving to the wistful her or him
    that only a few are made to have it all and the rest can never have it better.
    This is the killing of faith, hope and charity,
    this is the maker of hollow drones in a hollow life
    and this is the vilest killing of all.
    — islander

  5. Islander: Very thought provoking.

  6. Whenever I read poetry that speaks of the killing emptiness, I have to read Mary Oliver to balance out the despair.

    Wild Geese

    You do not have to be good.
    You do not have to walk on your knees
    for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
    You only have to let the soft animal of your body
    love what it loves.
    Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
    Meanwhile the world goes on.
    Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
    are moving across the landscapes,
    over the prairies and the deep trees,
    the mountains and the rivers.
    Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
    are heading home again.
    Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
    the world offers itself to your imagination,
    calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting–
    over and over announcing your place
    in the family of things.

    © Mary Oliver

  7. Delphyne
    Your poem explains why I rarely get depressed. Life does go on and I hate to miss any of it so no matter how bad it gets, I bounce back and move on with the world. Works for me. Having pets help because they always look forward, not back.

  8. upitty, you need an introduction, at least three paragraphs and a conclusion to get a better grade. You do get points for creative thinking and analysis. So your grade right now is a B- which is not bad considering you broke important rules for beginning writers.
    ; )

    NES, I am a trog when it comes to things like poetry. I like it to be a tiny bit of a mystery, or to evoke emotions, or just to be more poetic. That’s just my personal taste. This poet gets the message right AFAIAC, but it didn’t move me. What can I say, I like Robert Frost and I LOVE Shel Silverstein. I am a sucker for kid’s authors.

    Where the Sidewalk Ends

    There is a place where the sidewalk ends
    And before the street begins,
    And there the grass grows soft and white,
    And there the sun burns crimson bright,
    And there the moon-bird rests from his flight
    To cool in the peppermint wind.

    Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black
    And the dark street winds and bends.
    Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
    We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
    And watch where the chalk-white arrows go
    To the place where the sidewalk ends.

    Yes we’ll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
    And we’ll go where the chalk-white arrows go,
    For the children, they mark, and the children, they know
    The place where the sidewalk ends.

  9. The last stanza refers to the middle of the 20th Century, the Cold War period. A time of great fear and paranoia. Bomb shelters, drop and cover drills and Mccarthyism terror. No shots needed to be fired, no bombs dropped, no prisoners taken. We imprisoned ourselves. As Uppity said, imagine what the poet would think of our situation today, post 9/11. Terrorists need not even step on a plane…..because we live in fear that they might. So much so that we submit to stripping and molestation in air terminals for the privilege to board American Airlines.

  10. Thanks for your input Teresa. I promise to give it all the weight I think it deserves.

  11. I love poems.. 🙂

  12. Romantic poets, foxy? La Belle dame sans merci? Ode On A Grecian Urn, with the two lovers on the urn reaching toward one another but never touching….in it for eternity?

    Or…or…the likes of Lucretius, where No Single Thing Abides, But All Things Flow?

    Oh hell, I am having a tourette’s moment and hear limericks….

  13. Prose is my medium, baby! Have you ever read a work of prose that seemed poetic? With wine, sometimes my prose seems poetic to me, but then that’s probably because I’m sloshed at the time.

  14. imust, you awakened a thought. I remember air raids and having to throw myself under my one-piece desk in the classroom. In kindergarten there were no desks. We were doomed. The floor was always filthy. As IF doing this would save us. But it sure went a long way to keep us in fear. So what’s different today?

  15. And let us not forget the polio fear. I wonder how many young children got Hep C from those reusable needles?

  16. Ah well, my puppy and I are off to the pet store, where she will con me into buying yet another duckie. The duckie must make a quacking sound or it’s no go. No regular sqeaks for MY puppy! i will stand there at the display and test out plushies, while she sits there critically, determining which is worthy of her. And it’s always the expensive one. People will walk by and laugh at me as I talk it over with her. Still, that’s not as bad as knowing how rough it is to walk along with your dog, knowing fully well that everybody is looking at her instead of you.

  17. Thanks for your input Teresa. I promise to give it all the weight I think it deserves.

    I forgot the snark tags.

  18. Good morning poetry-o-philes! Thanks for reading and commenting. Lawyers lack creativity, so we can only present what others do.

    I’ve always loved poetry; many different categories. I have my favorite sources I like to dip into, periodically, like Keats, Yeats and John Donne. (And of course all of Shakespeare is really poetry in the garb of prose.) But, what I love most is to be surprised by a previously unknown piece that just ‘hits home,’ for whatever reason, like this one did. It didn’t move me as much as it stunned me — it’s just powerful. And, the narrative voice is so interesting and haunting: existential, as Upps observed.

    Anyway, wasn’t it nice to wake up to something other than the Weiner?!

  19. In her narrative of the back-story to today’s post, UW forgot to mention the seance session, wherein I tried, in vain, to contact the dead poet to get his permission to post his work.

    Most excellent analysis, Upps. And, you really did your research on the poet. Nothing less than an “A.”

  20. Brava, islander!
    (Let me guess…you’re not a lawyer, right?)

  21. Nice counterpoint piece, Delphyne.
    I view poems about war deaths with equanimity and, generally, don’t let them depress me, because there’s an intensity about them that, ironically, belies the emptiness of death. It’s as if the first-hand experience of combat imparts a wisdom to the combatant that gives him/her a heightened appreciation of life. Like having a ‘third eye’ that, for better or worse, is not given to those lucky enough to escape the vagaries of battle.

  22. Each to his/her own tastes in poetry, Teresa, but mine are far-flung. Love the types you mention too. At bottom, though, I view the value of poetry in being in the quality of ‘experience’ it imparts, a journey it takes me on. Not all poetry does that — not by far — but all the good ones do, whatever their respective subjects.

  23. Agree with your interpretation of the last stanza, imust. But, there’s also a compelling case to be made for the view that the poet views the hollowness and emptiness of mid-20th century life to be the real killer — the faceless, senseless, everyday crimes that comprise the banal registry of man’s inhumanity to man.

  24. Foxy, then you should visit the website I reference in the blog piece: I think you’ll like it. And, you can sign up for regular delivery of poems to your inbox — some real gems occasionally get through.

  25. Upps, I see you’re a Keats lover (Belle Dame, Grecian Urn). My favorite Keats ode is Ode to Psyche: his paen to the enduring resilience and quest of the human heart in search of passionate love.

  26. I often read poetic prose on this blog, UW.

  27. Hahahhahah, I almost doubled the number of comments on this post.
    (Pssssst, lorac, it’s a nice trick for newbie bloggers…but, then again, you draw them in with your creativity. Still, if you want to cheat some “Lorac Wednesday”….)

  28. Following up on UW’s reference to Keats’ Grecian Urn ode:

        Bold Lover, never, never canst thou kiss,  
    Though winning near the goal—yet, do not grieve;  
        She cannot fade, though thou hast not thy bliss,  
      For ever wilt thou love, and she be fair!

  29. Yes NES, I agree about the emptiness and hollowness that kills the soul. Also, end of the last line of the poem….”and leave him there.” A sense of abandonment and loneliness. Ironically, being lonely among millions. Today we have a similar irony. We live in the so-called “Information Age”. Instant communication, cell phones, the internet, twitter, facebook, myspace…..blogs…..and yet we seem to be living in the most ill-informed, self-centered, and lost generation. One that needs the latest and greatest shiny gadgets to keep us satisfied and happy until we can get our fix of the next shiny gadget. All this information, great literature, history and poetry literally at our fingertips and what does this generation do with it? They dish on the celebrity du jour….or post hundreds of photos of themselves in every conceivable pose while discussing in abbreviated text their next wardrobe choice or level of drunkenness at the previous night’s party.

  30. And on that note………check out Obama’s “Golf Summit” 🙂

  31. The musical version of that poem:

    (Forgive my absence of late. I have to work a ton of overtime while it is available right now. The overtime is going to dry up as soon as they hire a few more people to replace those who suddenly left. Thanks for the crappy economy, bo. Go play some more golf. I am so fortunate to have a job, I guess.)

  32. I often read poetic prose on this blog, UW

    This is quite possibly the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me on this blog.

  33. Bold Lover, never, never canst thou kiss,
    Though winning near the goal—yet, do not grieve;
    She cannot fade, though thou hast not thy bliss,
    For ever wilt thou love, and she be fair!


  34. I’m enjoying this thread immensely. And I agree that the hollowness of the mid 20th century is the real killer. Would love to have seen your seance!

    Have any of you read Pablo Neruda? I love his Odes to everyday things. This one is one of my favorites – the Ode to the Artichoke.

  35. What a refreshing idea for a weekend post! I wonder what he would have thought of 9/11? I read his bio. Its amazing, when you think of it, the people who turn out to be poets. My late stepson wrote some beautiful poems for his last girlfriend, and I recently scanned them and all of the pix she had of the two of them for her. We were amazed, had no idea he wrote such beautiful poems. Laker is trying to write poetry now. He wrote a couple of cute pieces when he was little. Anyway, we have to go to a family picnic now, but bbl!

  36. How on earth did I forget the seance! I should lose points for that, NES. But the truth is, you didn’t really want me to tell them that you accidentally conjured up an Irish limerick writer instead and most of his incantations rhymed with “Luck”.

  37. For those of you who never read Grecian Urn…………Do.

  38. Speaking of Existentialists, imagine if Sartre decided to write a cookbook.


    October 3 — Spoke with Camus today about my cookbook. Though he has
    never actually eaten, he gave me much encouragement. I rushed home
    immediately to begin work. How excited I am! I have begun my formula
    for a Denver omelet.

    October 4 — Still working on the omelet. There have been stumbling
    blocks. I keep creating omelets one after another, like soldiers
    marching into the sea, but each one seems empty, hollow, like stone.
    I want to create an omelet that expresses the meaninglessness of
    existence, and instead they taste like cheese. I look at them on the
    plate, but they do not look back. Tried eating them with the lights
    off. It did not help. Malraux suggested paprika.

    October 6 — I have realized that the traditional omelet form (eggs
    and cheese) is bourgeois. Today I tried making one out of cigarette,
    some coffee, and four tiny stones. I fed it to Malraux, who puked. I
    am encouraged, but my journey is still long.

    October 10 — I find myself trying ever more radical interpretations
    of traditional dishes, in an effort to somehow express the void I
    feel so acutely. Today I tried this recipe:

    Tuna Casserole
    Ingredients: 1 large casserole dish
    Instructions: Place the casserole dish in a cold oven. Place a
    chair facing the oven and sit in it forever. Think about how hungry
    you are. When night falls, do not turn on the light. While a void
    is expressed in this recipe, I am struck by its inapplicability to
    the bourgeois lifestyle. How can the eater recognize that the food
    denied him is a tuna casserole and not some other dish? I am
    becoming more and more frustrated.

    October 25 — I have been forced to abandon the project of producing
    an entire cookbook. Rather, I now seek a single recipe which will, by
    itself, embody the plight of man in a world ruled by an unfeeling
    God, as well as providing the eater with at least one ingredient from
    each of the four basic food groups. To this end, I purchased six
    hundred pounds of foodstuffs from the corner grocery and locked
    myself in the kitchen, refusing to admit anyone. After several weeks
    of work, I produced a recipe calling for two eggs, half a cup of
    flour, four tons of beef, and a leek. While this is a start, I am
    afraid I still have much work ahead.

    November 15 — Today I made a Black Forest gateau out of five pounds
    of cherries and a live beaver, challenging the very definition of the
    word gateau. I was very pleased. Malraux said he admired it greatly,
    but would not stay for dessert. Still, I feel that this may be my
    most profound achievement yet, and have resolved to enter it in the
    Betty Crocker Bake-Off.

    November 30 — Today was the day of the Bake-Off. Alas, things did
    not go as I had hoped. During the judging, the beaver became agitated
    and bit Betty Crocker’s wrist. The beaver’s powerful jaws are capable
    of felling blue spruce in less than ten minutes and proved, needless
    to say, more than a match for the tender limbs of America’s favorite
    homemaker. I only got third place. Moreover, I am now the subject of
    a rather nasty lawsuit.

    December 1 — I have been gaining twenty-five pounds a week for two
    months, and I am now experiencing light tides. It is stupid to be so
    fat. My pain and ultimate solitude are still as authentic as they
    were when I was thin, but seem to impress girls far less. From now
    on, I will live on cigarettes and black coffee.

  39. Jean-Paul Sartre Cookbook – hahaha!

  40. …and most of his incantations rhymed with “Luck”.

    Hilarious UW!

  41. Yay! The re-emergence of the existentialist cookbook! Brilliant.

  42. Laker, the poet. Love it. Go for it, dude!

  43. Boehner and Obama don’t look like they’re having a good time.

    Can you say BUSH III? Yep.

  44. There once was an attorney from California….

    Yay, go NES!

  45. But the truth is, you didn’t really want me to tell them that you accidentally conjured up an Irish limerick writer instead and most of his incantations rhymed with “Luck”.

  46. Oops, forgot the ROFL!

  47. A light bulb hanging in the Livermore-Pleasanton Fire Department has been burning steadily for exactly 110 years, according the Centennial Bulb website. Since the “Centennial Bulb” was first turned on, the stock market crashed and was reborn, the nuclear age began, two World Wars were fought, cars and planes were developed … and through it all the bulb kept burning.


    According to the bulb’s website (it’s probably the only light bulb in the world to boast one) the “Shelby Bulb” was donated by Dennis Bernal to the Livermore Volunteer Fire Department , and is actually a somewhat different style bulb invented by Adolphe A. Chaillet and made by the Shelby Electric Company.

    In the Shelby bulb, a coiled filament and funky design burn brighter and last longer than the Edison bulb — as evidenced by Livermore “centennial” bulb.

  48. Hey lorac!

  49. They’re announcing that Ron Paul won the republican straw poll. Is there ever any correlation between the winner of the straw poll and the eventual nominee? (anyone here know?) Do the dems have a similar poll (in the years when there are multiple people running)? Ron Paul cannot possibly win the nomination – so what point is there to such a straw poll, if it has no relationship to reality….?

  50. NES, I cannot contribute to the “poem-ing” until later today when my brain is awake lol

  51. Yes, he’s “evolving” on the gay marriage issue. The best comeback would have been, “how has he evolved? He’s still at the monkey level!” But, of course, many normal references are now “racist” thanks to this administration….

  52. ….gotta run errands….

  53. oops I mean – just came BACK from running errands…

    and I saw this funny woman, she was at the pet store, and she kept talking to her dog about which toy it wanted! But enough about the woman. Wow, that dog was really neat, we all wanted to go up to pet it! lol

  54. Is this the Iowa straw poll? If so, my understanding is that the person with the highest name recognition and/or who doles out the most walking-around cash seems to win. In ’07 that was Mittens; but, then, he lost the IW Caucus to the late-surging Huckster. This year Mittens decided to stay out, pissing off the Iowans. I think the Dems have the Harkin event, but I don’t believe that’s anything other than a dog-and-pony show.

  55. Ack, don’t quote me, but I think they said it was in New Orleans…? But definitely not Iowa ( IA 🙂 ) Maybe they rotate towns…? Or maybe they will do it in more than one place? But I don’t know, I’ve never paid attention to what they did before ! lol

    NES, what do you think about this? (it’s about Pakistan)

  56. OK, now I really have to go. Maybe I’ll stop at a bookstore, and find a nice poetry book to plagiarize lol

  57. Bet you wanted to pet the woman too, lorac. Confess!!

  58. No, no, NES! I SAW a woman try to pet the beautiful woman…. she’s now in the E.R.

  59. Aha, then that was the conservative conference, or sumthin’ like that. Mittens and Romney didn’t participate. Don’t know if Michele did. If she did, it’s interesting she didn’t win.

  60. Then the woman in ER must’ve been a dawwwwg. Because the woman who put her in ER is known to have an eye for women easy on the eye.

  61. I misssssss MOM! Stick the grandkids in front of a DVD movie and come play with us, common-sense-purveyor!

  62. There it is — the GOP is united against Bammy:

    That makes their candidate difficult to beat as long he isn’t one who alienates independents.

  63. The crowning glory of the Obamacrat Party:

    In May, the number of Republicans in the country increased to its highest level so far this year. The May results mark the sixth time in the past seven months that there have been more Republicans than Democrats in the nation.

  64. NES, she came in third – maybe around .15 of the vote…? I can’t remember who was second, or how many total were in the race.

  65. NES – here are the details – look at second place – isn’t that “your” guy? (and notice the part I put in bold!)

    (Reuters) – Representative Ron Paul easily won a Republican Leadership Conference straw poll of the party’s 2012 presidential contenders on Saturday, with former U.S. envoy to China Jon Huntsman finishing second.

    Paul, who brought busloads of supporters to the conference, won with 612 votes in the nonbinding preference poll of nearly 2,000 delegates from 38 states who attended the gathering.

    Huntsman finished second with 382 votes, Representative Michele Bachmann was third with 191 votes and businessman Herman Cain was fourth with 104 votes.

    Huntsman, a former Utah governor, is set announce his bid for the White House on Tuesday.

    No other candidate broke triple digits. Former Massachusetts Governor Mitt Romney, who leads national opinion polls in the 2012 Republican race for the nomination to challenge President Barack Obama, was fifth with 74 votes.

    “This win is just the latest indicator of how the majority of American opinion is turning in Ron Paul’s direction,” said Jesse Benton, his campaign chairman.

    Paul, Bachmann and Cain addressed the New Orleans conference on Friday. Huntsman was scheduled to speak but canceled because of illness. Romney and Tim Pawlenty, the former Minnesota governor who earned 18 votes, skipped the event.

    Former House of Representatives Speaker Newt Gingrich, who spoke on Thursday, had 69 votes. Former Alaska Governor Sarah Palin, who says she is considering becoming a candidate, had 41 votes. She also did not appear at the conference.

    Former Senator Rick Santorum, who also spoke on Friday, had 30 votes.

    Romney narrowly won the straw poll at the annual conference last year over Paul, but the survey has not been a reliable predictor of success. Bill Frist, who was Senate Republican leader at the time, won in 2006 and failed to ever get his campaign off the ground.

    Texas Governor George W. Bush won in 1998, two years before he captured the White House.

  66. No, no, NES! I SAW a woman try to pet the beautiful woman…. she’s now in the E.R.


  67. NES – wouldn’t this be basic knowledge for an attorney, or is it something specific to murder trials….?

    It was an interesting morning in court today (June 18, 2011) at the Casey Anthony trial as her lead attorney Jose Baez found himself facing contempt of court charges after one of his witnesses went off scripted (sic) and started commenting on evidence that was not a part of his deposition in the case. The prosecution objected to this testimony and shortly thereafter, Judge Perry took Jose Baez to the “woodshed” and even threatened him with contempt of court charges, later.

    Many observers believe that Jose Baez is playing out-of-his-league since the Casey Anthony’s murder trial is his first high profile case. The trial resumes on Monday (June 20, 2011) at 9am EDST.

  68. That’s my guy, Huntsman. I’m not believing the out-sick excuse; interesting that he came in 2nd even while absent.
    I think he has become the anyone-but-Romney alternative. Whodathunk it – a Mormon v. Mormon contest for top GOP dog. May the best motorcycler win!

  69. Sounds basic, lorac.

  70. Lorac, Ron Paul’s thumping victory is a bit of a mystery. Probably a case of him being able to turn out his supporters at the grassroots level: his devotees are like Obots, reportedly. He’s not going to have mainstream appeal tho’.

  71. Ron Paul’s spawn appears to be an odious little bastard and I suspect it put some dents in daddy’s base as a result..

    Mittens, as I mentioned before to you NES, it’s kind of hard to totally embrace a guy who put his dog in a crate and then strapped the crate to the roof of the sUV for a trip. At the next stop, they had to hose down the crate, the dog, the roof and the windshields because the dog was so mortififed he lost control of every function. Worst part, as if the visual itself isn’t awful enough, Mitt never seemed to acknowledge that there was anything wrong with strapping the family dog to the roof of a car and moving on. You gotta figure there has to be something missing inside a man who would not only do such a thing, but also not understand what all the fuss is about.

  72. There IS something missing there, UW. But, how does that make him worse than the guy in the WH? I’m certainly not devoted to Mittens, and have my eye on the other LDS guy, but I’m seriously committed to BHO being a one-termer.

  73. Palin never appears at those conferences. Not sure what her game is, but she rarely allows them the chance to ‘vote’ on her based on anything that even remotely resembles a platform. So they vote anyways, using her sound bites and tweets as deciders. Most of those conferences are comprised of extremists, mostly far right crackpots. Paul always does well only because he has always had a heavily charged, albeit small base. Ron Paul’s supporters would crawl thru broken glass for him. THey are not arm chair supporters, they are generally young and they do what needs to be done for their messiah. They see him in a very reverant way, almost Obot in their zealousness. So they enjoy especially showing up at those Stick Up My Ass, I’m Righteous and You’re Not conventions and sticking around for those straw votes so they can blow the zealots out of the water. And every year, some Paul “spokesman” says something similar about how the tide is with Ron Paul and blah blah blah. It excites his nitch, which gives him a bit of a boner and then it’s off to the other candidates in the end.

    As for that complete psycho Santorum, the one good thing about having him around is you get to count heads and see just what the percentage of completely insane crackpots are still trolling that party.

  74. One thing that is emerging is, it seems that Romney, Huntsman and Pawlenty think the extreme right/evangelical/panty meddling/gay bashing wing of the party has cooties. This tells me they have their eye on Independents, disenfranchised and moderate Democracts, because those two voting bases would never vote for a Rick Santorum.

  75. I suppose it’s better to not show up and do poorly, than it is to show up and do poorly lol

  76. Anyone else here a fan of vimeo, the fairly new superior quality video site?

  77. That was a cool video. Now, how can we get a permanent eclipse over DC?

  78. What was that you were saying about barry being narcissistic.
    barrys balls
    The only balls barry has.

  79. Right you are, UW.

  80. I can’t see Barry’s balls, DE.

    No, seriously….no graphic posted.

  81. ROFLLLLL, DE…now I see them!

  82. I wonder if barry lets anyone else play with his balls. LAAAARRRRYYYYYYY!

  83. I think Vimeo has been around for awhile though. I’ve seen vids there. Problem is, they are NOT very compatible with wordpress and, as you can see, posting one of their videos here does not embed. That makes them a site I can’t use much. It’s a struggle to use vodpod as it is, but I notice vimeo doesn’t work well there either. So they are of no use to this blogger.

  84. Ahaaaa! As we suspected, he’s really white.

  85. Okay in defense of Barry, all presidents have signed golf balls, just so you know what a bunch of elitist asshole they are. If you can get a whole set of presidential balls, dead and alive, they fetch peanuts on ebay, though. These guys get monogrammed everything, as if they need to remind themselves constantly how important they are. Of course, the signatures on all the other presidential balls look like a normal person signed them, as opposed to Barry’s hollywood signature of grandeur.

  86. Ha! I don’t play golf, but I bet I could hit THOSE golf balls really far! My face experiences automatic contortions whenever I see his face – I bet if I had a golf club and saw his signature, I’d find a whole lot of strength to whack that thing!

  87. Rats on vimeo not posting on WP. Why can’t all these sites have compatible protocols? Can’t be that much of a mystery. Apple’s a real pain because it doesn’t allow Adobe Flash to play … some childish pout that Steve Jobs has with Adobe. It’s a pain.

  88. Ahahaha, DE. Blast from the past when it comes to LAAAARRRRRYYYYYY (and the infamous limo ride). Pass the crack pipe.

  89. lorac, I KNOW you would.

  90. Here’s a GOP site’s view of what happened with this straw poll (including, why Ron Paul’s numbers are so high [as we guessed] and why Huntsman had such a respectable showing in absentia):

  91. NES, wordpress refuses to allow videos that have scripts in them. This is a security decision. You lose some videos and sometimes have to haul ass to find another copy of what you want, but I honestly can understand why they do it.

  92. My father was a golfer so I was exposed to it early in life. He used to drag me out there sometimes on Saturday mornings. I still have his Hole in One trophy. He was very good. Golfing comes in handy in corporate America. Gives you a chance to hobnob wih he big boys. I had a colleague who was a fantasic golfer, seriously she could whoop anyone’s ass, but trust me, she always let the big boys win. They could never have stood losing to a girl. They would have made a big fuss about it and back slapped her, but secretly they would have held it against her. She did whoop a few she really hated though. Sometimes she was used to humliate someone they wanted to get rid of. No kidding. These boys’ egos are very fragile, which is why when they wanted to ditch one of them, they would put him to work for a woman and instruct her to drive him away in 30 days, which was usually easy, considering all you had to do was make them actually work. Giving them tasks they felt were beneath them was always helpful too.

  93. I’m listening to one of my favorite and very worn CDs with Oliver Mtukudzi. I love his music, I tell you. It always puts me in some kind of combo peaceful-elated mood, which are counter to one another I know, but there you have it. I have no idea what the hell the guy is saying, I just love it. Something just happens to me when I listen to this guy. Here:

  94. Uppity – hope you’re well, Ruthie says ‘hi’. She’s doing great, getting stronger every day and has some big plans for herself now. She’ll be making more commentary in the future – this is just a ” stroke THIS! I’m back! ” sorry for the yucky Barry stuff at the beginning…… 😉

  95. Here’s the poem, part of which Maya Angelou used to support Hillary:

    Still I Rise

    You may write me down in history
    With your bitter, twisted lies,
    You may trod me in the very dirt
    But still, like dust, I’ll rise.

    Does my sassiness upset you?
    Why are you beset with gloom?
    ‘Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells
    Pumping in my living room.

    Just like moons and like suns,
    With the certainty of tides,
    Just like hopes springing high,
    Still I’ll rise.

    Did you want to see me broken?
    Bowed head and lowered eyes?
    Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
    Weakened by my soulful cries.

    Does my haughtiness offend you?
    Don’t you take it awful hard
    ‘Cause I laugh like I’ve got gold mines
    Diggin’ in my own back yard.

    You may shoot me with your words,
    You may cut me with your eyes,
    You may kill me with your hatefulness,
    But still, like air, I’ll rise.

    Does my sexiness upset you?
    Does it come as a surprise
    That I dance like I’ve got diamonds
    At the meeting of my thighs?

    Out of the huts of history’s shame
    I rise
    Up from a past that’s rooted in pain
    I rise
    I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide,
    Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
    Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
    I rise
    Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear
    I rise
    Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
    I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
    I rise
    I rise
    I rise.

  96. Ooooh, here’s another good one by Maya – I’ve never heard of this one before

    Phenomenal Woman by Maya Angelou

    Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.
    I’m not cute or built to suit a fashion model’s size
    But when I start to tell them,
    They think I’m telling lies.
    I say,
    It’s in the reach of my arms
    The span of my hips,
    The stride of my step,
    The curl of my lips.
    I’m a woman
    Phenomenal woman,
    That’s me.

    I walk into a room
    Just as cool as you please,
    And to a man,
    The fellows stand or
    Fall down on their knees.
    Then they swarm around me,
    A hive of honey bees.
    I say,
    It’s the fire in my eyes,
    And the flash of my teeth,
    The swing in my waist,
    And the joy in my feet.
    I’m a woman
    Phenomenal woman,
    That’s me.

    Men themselves have wondered
    What they see in me.
    They try so much
    But they can’t touch
    My inner mystery.
    When I try to show them
    They say they still can’t see.
    I say,
    It’s in the arch of my back,
    The sun of my smile,
    The ride of my breasts,
    The grace of my style.
    I’m a woman

    Phenomenal woman,
    That’s me.

    Now you understand
    Just why my head’s not bowed.
    I don’t shout or jump about
    Or have to talk real loud.
    When you see me passing
    It ought to make you proud.
    I say,
    It’s in the click of my heels,
    The bend of my hair,
    the palm of my hand,
    The need of my care,
    ‘Cause I’m a woman
    Phenomenal woman,
    That’s me.

  97. A site that lists lots of poems – here is the page listing female poets; you can click and read the different poems

  98. The big man died today from complications of a stroke.

  99. I absolutely LOVE Maya Angelou!

  100. Yay! Ruthie!!!!! You GO Girl! We need a Ruthie For President badge now!!!!

    She’ll fix em!

  101. Hillary Clinton and Maya, very close friends for years. Maya Knew.
    Maya on Hillary

  102. And of course Maya’s message to The People about Hillary. A Must See.

  103. Oh my. That video made me cry Uppity. I did not expect that. And I’m not sure why, now……what we have lost we can never get back. What a travesty.

  104. I love Maya! Really nice doing poetry readings on the Uppity blog!

    Let me know when you get to Adrienne Rich’s The Floating Poem, Unnumbered. (Lorac will not be able to stop sighing…)

  105. We got a little bit of everything, Sophie, because that’s what makes up the real world! Glad you enjoyed it. Maybe you can get lorac to address your request. She loves to sigh.

  106. I know, imust. That’s the first time I saw it. I found a couple of things I missed in 2008 that hit me between the eyes. These knuckleheads still have another chance, if they have any brains they will take it.

  107. Thank you, lorac. Trust you to find a poem that, literally at the end of the day, unites us all! Let’s face it, if Upps will allow me this liberty,– this website was born of the love of Hillary, and continues to be fired by the incomprehension that we were cheated out of our WELL-DESERVED MOMENT.

  108. Imust, I’ve always accepted that, however strong each of us is, we’ll always cry, literally, when anything deeply touches on Hillary, on ’08’ the year of INJUSTICE.

  109. Ok, sophie, I scroggled, and I’m sighing! lol

    But I don’t think I can post the poem to the blog!

  110. having read it, let’s just say, you could post it, but then we probably wouldn’t be here the next day, or as a minimum, we would be forced to see a WARNING everytime someone clicks on our link. I am sure this is not what any of us wants. Hey lorac! Funny how you look at things a different way when you are suddenly thrust into a leadership role, hey? wink wink.

  111. P.S. Adrienne needs to get a room.

  112. NES, on allowing you liberties. Since you already have me eating out of your hand, that’s moot.

  113. ROFL UW

    Actually, it was my experience in the ER today….. lol

  114. Well lorac, next time don’t be so grabby with me in my dog’s presence. She hadn’t eaten yet.

  115. I do hope you were in the ER tending to a crazy and not having yourself tended to.

  116. Nice try at blaming your dog! Your dog appreciated my petting her!

    I guess you just don’t like strangers stroking your hair….

    (yes, the ER thing is a joke 🙂 )

  117. Posted with just the years-long curiousity at why any reference to O’s skin color is racist, but even the most egregious references to Hillary aren’t the slightest bit sexist. Actually, the mere fact that you didn’t/don’t support O is racist. But not supporting Hillary was never considered sexist – it was just racist because you didn’t support the O. (of course, not supporting Hillary may *not* have been sexist, but you all see what I mean…)

  118. Where is FF anymore? (put down the brush!)

    Where is HT anymore? (put down the book!)

    …. just for a LITTLE while 🙂

    Oh my – there’s a Tom Hanks movie on that I’ve never seen – never even heard of (Turner and Hooch, 1989). There are right now lots of shots of him in black bikini underwear, he’s on his hands and knees, and they’re shooting from behind….

    ack – I can’t read those last lines to check for spelling, because the “guest” and “log in” buttons are up in my comment box! Get back down!

  119. Yeah I do tend to recoil at an attempting hair stroking by a stranger. I’m odd that way. lol.

  120. I don’t know, this sounds a little like Sophie’s poem…. lol

    NES, on allowing you liberties. Since you already have me eating out of your hand, that’s moot.

  121. Oh, and another!

    Where’s PMM? (put down the little kids!)

  122. Thank you for those kind words NES. Even after 3 years, the wounds of 2008 can be so raw. It is so hard to comprehend a loss of not what was, but what could have been…..Bobby Kennedy was always my favorite Kennedy. My favorite quote attributed to him was this: “Some people see things as they are and ask why? I dream of things that never were and ask, why not?”

  123. Nice photo. I’ll bet Hillary was at home in NY and the skies were smiling down on her!

  124. Nice rainbows lorac. Perhaps a fitting end to this post as it seems we are the only ones still up! 🙂

  125. I can’t resist lorac…….

  126. lol love it, imust!

    I Wandered Lonely As A Cloud by William Wordsworth

    I wandered lonely as a cloud
    That floats on high o’er vales and hills,
    When all at once I saw a crowd,
    A host, of golden daffodils;
    Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
    Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

    Continuous as the stars that shine
    And twinkle on the milky way,
    They stretched in never-ending line
    Along the margin of a bay:
    Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
    Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

    The waves beside them danced, but they
    Out-did the sparkling leaves in glee;
    A poet could not be but gay,
    In such a jocund company!
    I gazed—and gazed—but little thought
    What wealth the show to me had brought:

    For oft, when on my couch I lie
    In vacant or in pensive mood,
    They flash upon that inward eye
    Which is the bliss of solitude;
    And then my heart with pleasure fills,
    And dances with the daffodils.

  127. Wonderful thread~

  128. I am sorry I did not cover Father’s Day. My father is dead. As with Mother’s Day, I just try to pretend it doesn’t exist. But those of you who have a father, please cherish this day and all days during which he walks the earth. It comes to an end eventually, so don’t waste the moments.

  129. I LOVED THIS THREAD AND POST! YOU SHOULD REGULARLY DO A POETRY POST. All the poems were wonderful, I know the Wild Geese poem and Mary Oliver always does nature poetry. In fact, I knew most all of them and printed the RISE poem when Hillary was running. But it is so good to reread them again and know other people love them too!

    Uppity, I loved the Oliver Mtukudzi video and am taking it for my Happy Summer Solstice post. Thank You very much. Never heard of him before. I too felt so good hearing it.

    Here is one by Mary McCarthy that has become my theme song. Before 1975, Mary Mackey published a volume of poetry “Split Ends” (Ariel), a novel, “Immersion” (Shameless Hussy Press), and the screenplay for the film “Silence” (directed by John Korty). In 1975, she was a writer-in-residence in Women’s Studies at California State University, Sacramento and she wrote this poem.

    When I was a child
    I played with the boys
    and (because I was only a girl)
    they made me
    the Indians

    my name was Fox Woman
    and they hunted me
    like dogs

    my name was
    White Bird
    and I flew to escape them

    my name was
    Last Star
    the last
    of my people

    my name was
    for they caught me
    and burned me

    my name was
    Won’t Talk
    for I never
    betrayed us

    time after time
    the boys shot me down
    and I came back
    Red Witch
    wild and chanting

    came back
    Ghost Dance
    came back
    Bad Dream
    came back
    Cant Forget
    and Crazy-With-Grief

    I know where they went
    those boys with their guns
    they’re still hunting Indians
    you can see
    their names are
    Spills Blood
    and Kills-Without-Mercy

    There is a novel I love called “Ariadne” that may seem like a romance novel at first but it is a lot more. It is the legend of Theseus and Hercules told for the first time from the POV of the women who were their contemporaries. Some of it is the Old Religion, the Craft skills in their beginning, earth spirituality. This is a quote from Ariadne, recording one of her dreams. Listen to The Bee Dream from Ariadne by June Rachuy Brindel.

    You are standing in the apiary among the hives. The sun is warm and the earth fragrant. Bees are all around you. Their wings reflect the sun. Their hum becomes a voice whispering;

    Your body is pollen.
    The journey is forever.
    Be still.

  130. Wow, great contributions, Green. Especially loved The Bee Dream.

    Yes, the Saturday Poem should become a regular post — good food for the soul.
    And, NOOOOOOO, Upps, I don’t agree to do it every week….

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