A blog dedicated to our future
In the end, hopelessness is no more than a failure of imagination. Below, a short poem by Joseph Brodsky, who knew about such things:The following poem was written by Joseph Brodsky while in internal exile in Norenskaia, in the Archangelsk region of northern Russia. In the Soviet Union, New Year celebrations came to be seen as a substitute for Christmas. This translation was found among his papers: January 1, 1965The kings will lose your old address.No star will flare up to impress.The ear may yield, under duress,to blizzards' nagging roar.The shadows falling off your back,you'd snuff the candle, hit the sack,for calendars more nights can packthan there are candles for.What is this? Sadness? Yes, perhaps.A little tune that never stops.One knows by heart its downs and ups.May it be played on parwith things to come, with one's eclipse,as gratefulness of eyes and lipsfor what occasionally keepsthem trained on something far.And staring up where no cloud driftsbecause your sock's devoid of giftsyou'll understand this thrift: it fitsyour age; it's not a slight.It is too late for some breakthrough,For miracles, for Santa's crew.And suddenly you'll realize that youyourself are a gift outright.- Joseph Brodskytranslated from the Russian by the authorPeace and goodwill to all...
the penis shoots seeds to make new life; to poison the earth with a plague of men.the gun is good, the penis is evil. your god gave you the gift of the gun. go forth and kill.
Ugo, you dont get it. We need more guns to solve mass shootings just as we need more debt to solve debt crisis... :-)And yes, we need more oil to solve climate change...Alex