Poems of the Week: Lunacy
Sad things, as are the reaches of a stream
Flowing beneath a golden moon alone.
Sad things, as are the reaches of a stream
Flowing beneath a golden moon alone.
By Herodotus’ time, tyranny had developed a bad name, and he his descriptions of their behavior constitutes a pragmatic manual to set beside Machiavelli’s The Prince. Tyrants champion the poor and the weak particularly women and foreigners; they are lustful and prone to adultery and eccentricity—Periander was accused of having relations with his dead wife. They maintain power by disarming the citizenry and oppressing anyone who is distinguished for birth, talent, virtue, or wealth. I know, it sounds exactly like the Democratic Party today.
In postmodern America, Paul Manafort is the “man in the iron mask” while an aspiring serial killer who hangs a toddler gets probation
CPR: I began to wonder if this website was a good place to launch the book. It is not the small circulation that disturbed me, but the apparent lack of interest. When I asked for the metrics on my chapters in comparison with other stuff, what you gave me showed a huge gap between pieces authored by you and those that had been written by others. I began to wonder if this site was not simply, you know, some kind of ego trip for an editor who had been bounced from his job. The idea of you getting more attention than me was pretty demoralizing.
I have heard liberal Catholic priests and Protestant ministers say that there is something “unchristian” about the death penalty. I have even heard those who say that the Church has always been opposed to executions, but I challenge them to cite one passage of Scripture or one creed, one conciliar document, one encyclical that unequivocally condemns the execution of murderers.
It is death that makes life so precious. Even Adam and Eve, without knowing it, lived under the shadow of the death that might come to them if they rebelled against their creator, and some protoplasmic earth-blob that were to go on growing throughout eternity would endure an existence without moral significance.
Robert Frost used to say Carl Sandburg had to accompany his readings with a guitar because that was the only way it would have a rhythm. Rex has taken Frost at his word…
Then, in 1936, comes My Man Godfrey, a romantic comedy of near-Shakespearean richness that turns around speculator-turned-bum-turned-butler Godfrey Parke. My touchstones of comparison are As You Like It, Measure for Measure, and A Midsummer Night’s Dream, all of which resonate in this marvelous movie.
Why Anthony Kennedy’s resignation matters–and why it doesn’t.