To This We've Come
Public Masturbation
Soon to Follow No Doubt
Liberalism Run Amok
Everywhere you Turn
What Next?
SEX on the SIDEWALK
Watch For It.
Sunday, July 12, 2015
Friday, July 10, 2015
Thursday, July 9, 2015
From
Winter Journey
A Song Cycle
Music by Franz Schubert
Poetry by Wilhelm Mueller
Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau, baritone
Gerald Moore, piano
DER LINDENBAUM
Am Brunnen vor dem Tore
Da steht ein Lindenbaum;
Ich träumt' in seinem Schatten
So manchen süßen Traum.
Ich schnitt in seine Rinde
So manches liebe Wort;
Es zog in Freud' und Leide
Zu ihm mich immer fort.
Ich mußt' auch heute wandern
Vorbei in tiefer Nacht,
Da hab' ich noch im Dunkeln
Die Augen zugemacht.
Und seine Zweige rauschten,
Als riefen sie mir zu:
Komm her zu mir, Geselle,
Hier find'st du deine Ruh' !
Die kalten Winde bliesen
Mir grad' ins Angesicht;
Der Hut flog mir vom Kopfe,
Ich wendete mich nicht.
Nun bin ich manche Stunde
Entfernt von jenem Ort,
Und immer hör' ich's rauschen:
Du fändest Ruhe dort !
~ Wilhelm Mueller (1794-1827)
ENGLISH TRANSLATION
The Linden Tree
By the well outside the city gates
there stands a linden tree.
While sleeping in its shadow,
sweet dreams it sent to me.
there stands a linden tree.
While sleeping in its shadow,
sweet dreams it sent to me.
And in its bark I chiseled
my messages of love:
My pleasures and my sorrows
were welcomed from above.
my messages of love:
My pleasures and my sorrows
were welcomed from above.
Today I had to pass it,
well in the depth of night ––
and still, in all the darkness,
my eyes closed to its sight.
well in the depth of night ––
and still, in all the darkness,
my eyes closed to its sight.
Its branches bent and rustled,
as if they called to me:
Come here, come here, good fellow,
your haven I shall be!
as if they called to me:
Come here, come here, good fellow,
your haven I shall be!
The icy winds were blowing,
straight in my face they ground.
The hat tore off my forehead.
I did not turn around.
straight in my face they ground.
The hat tore off my forehead.
I did not turn around.
Away I walked for hours
whence stands the linden tree,
and still I hear it whisp'ring:
You'll find your peace with me!
whence stands the linden tree,
and still I hear it whisp'ring:
You'll find your peace with me!
Tuesday, July 7, 2015
 |
| Rest of the Reapers, Pieter Brueghel, the younger |
STILLNESS
No sound beyond the dropping of the leaves
Or shushing in the treetops of the stirring
In the air and periodic whirring
Soft of wings and bundling of sheaves ––
Every now and then a bird may call
Looking for –– or longing for –– his mate;
Escaping still the hunter’s dinner plate.
Scythes swish steadily as grain grown tall
Submits to delicate compelling force.
Workers silently bent to their task
Over whom hot sunshine spills its rays
Reap swiftly knowing pain could come, of course.
Later, in the afterglow they’ll bask
Dreaming –– foolishly –– of better days.
~ FreeThinke
Monday, July 6, 2015
Sunday, July 5, 2015
Visions Becoming Reality
7/6/15
The parched ground shall become a pool… —Isaiah 35:7
We always have a vision of something before it actually becomes real to us. When we realize that the vision is real, but is not yet real in us, Satan comes to us with his temptations, and we are inclined to say that there is no point in even trying to continue. Instead of the vision becoming real to us, we have entered into a valley of humiliation.
Life is not as idle ore,
But iron dug from central gloom,
And battered by the shocks of doom
To shape and use.
But iron dug from central gloom,
And battered by the shocks of doom
To shape and use.
God gives us a vision, and then He takes us down to the valley to batter us into the shape of that vision. It is in the valley that so many of us give up and faint. Every God-given vision will become real if we will only have patience. Just think of the enormous amount of free time God has! He is never in a hurry. Yet we are always in such a frantic hurry. While still in the light of the glory of the vision, we go right out to do things, but the vision is not yet real in us. God has to take us into the valley and put us through fires and floods to batter us into shape, until we get to the point where He can trust us with the reality of the vision. Ever since God gave us the vision, He has been at work. He is getting us into the shape of the goal He has for us, and yet over and over again we try to escape from the Sculptor’s hand in an effort to batter ourselves into the shape of our own goal.
The vision that God gives is not some unattainable castle in the sky, but a vision of what God wants you to be down here. Allow the Potter to put you on His wheel and whirl you around as He desires. Then as surely as God is God, and you are you, you will turn out as an exact likeness of the vision. But don’t lose heart in the process. If you have ever had a vision from God, you may try as you will to be satisfied on a lower level, but God will never allow it.
~ My Utmost for is Highest - Oswald Chambers
Many thanks to AOW for bringing
this lovely thing to our attention:
Something Very Fine, Noble
And Genuinely Beautiful for a Change.
Listen! This music has healing powers.
Truly a balm to soothe angry, confused,
distressed, squabbling souls.
 |
| Jenny Oaks Baker, born 1975 |
[NOTE: Violinist, Jenny Oaks Baker Baker, a graduate of Philadelphia’s famed Curtis Institute of Music, began playing the violin at age four. She made her solo orchestral debut in 1983 at the age of eight. She won several competitions in her youth. With Shadow Mountain Records she has released twelve albums. Her first, On Wings of Song (1998), was awarded two Pearl Awards from the FCMA. Her album, Wish Upn a Star - a tribute to the music of Walt Disney, earned a nomination at the 54th Grammy Awards for Best Pop Instrumental Album.
Several of her albums have listed on Billboard Charts including her 2010 album Then Sings My Soul; her 2012 album, Noël: Carols of Christmas Past featuring vocalist Alex Sharpe; and her 2014 album Classic: The Rock Album.
She has performed as a soloist at Carnegie Hall, Lincoln Center, Strathmore Hall, TheLibrary of Congress, and as a guest soloist with the National Symphony, the Jerusalem Symphony, Pittsburgh Symphony, SanDiego Symphony, Utah Symphony, and the Mormin Tabernacle Choir. She has also been featured in television and radio broadcasts nationwide. Her BYUTV In Performance special, "Silver Screen Serenade" features Ms. Baker performing music from her 2008 album of the same name. She has collaborated with Gladys Knight, Marvin Hamlisch, Lisa Hopkins Seegmiller, Kurt Bestor, Alex Sharpe, and the former Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice. Jenny Oaks Baker's music has been featured on the soundtracks of many films as well.]
Saturday, July 4, 2015
On Independence
Officially this day’s for celebration
Not complaints or tearful lamentation.
It’s tempting to succumb to fretfulness.
Negators can’t enjoy forgetfulness ––
Deny their overeager plaintiveness
Erupting fulsomely with put on saintliness ––
Pouting as though martyred for a Cause, when
Everyone knows they only crave applause. When
Needing to be Noticed takes the Stage,
Disingenuousness will soon take over.
Ego run amok expresses rage ––
Needling challengers’ interest and inventions,
Creating tensions, refusing to engage,
Endowing Honesty with bad intentions.
Doubts about oneself makes fields of clover
A potent allergen of which mere mention
Yields fits of pique that might define an Age!
~ FreeThinke
One of God’s Great “Don’ts”
My Utmost for His Highest - July 4, 2015
Do not fret— it only causes harm. —Psalm 37:8
Fretting means getting ourselves “out of joint” mentally or spiritually. It is one thing to say, “Do not fret,” but something very different to have such a nature that you find yourself unable to fret. It’s easy to say, “Rest in the Lord, and wait patiently for Him” (Psalm 37:7) until our own little world is turned upside down and we are forced to live in confusion and agony like so many other people. Is it possible to “rest in the Lord” then? If this “Do not” doesn’t work there, then it will not work anywhere. This “Do not” must work during our days of difficulty and uncertainty, as well as our peaceful days, or it will never work. And if it will not work in your particular case, it will not work for anyone else. Resting in the Lord is not dependent on your external circumstances at all, but on your relationship with God, Himself.
Worrying always results in sin. We tend to think that a little anxiety and worry are simply an indication of how wise we really are, yet it is actually a much better indication of just how wicked we are. Fretting rises from our determination to have our own way. Our Lord never worried and was never anxious, because His purpose was never to accomplish His own plans but to fulfill God’s plans. Fretting is wickedness for a child of God.
Have you been propping up that foolish soul of yours with the idea that your circumstances are too much for God to handle? Set all your opinions and speculations aside and “abide under the shadow of the Almighty” (Psalm 91:1). Deliberately tell God that you will not fret about whatever concerns you. All our fretting and worrying is caused by planning without God.
~ Oswald Chambers
Wednesday, July 1, 2015
Sunday, June 28, 2015
Once I had a secret love
That lived within the heart of me
All too soon my secret love
Became impatient to be free
So I told a friendly star
The way that dreamers often do
Just how wonderful you are
And why I'm so in love with you
Now I shout it from the highest hills
Even told the golden daffodils
At last my heart's an open door
And my secret love's no secret anymore.
Doris, we hardly knew ye!
Friday, June 26, 2015
Wednesday, June 24, 2015
Tuesday, June 23, 2015
On the Light Side
__________ INEQUALITY __________
Today, there is no worse affliction
Than the curse of sex addiction.
Especially, if it's detected
From the hetero-male directed.
Apparently, now it’s AOK
To parade naked, if you're gay,
But dare to give a broad the eye,
And you'll soon be hung out to dry.
Gays in public squares may tarry
Shrieking for the right to marry,
But no more do men dare to flirt
With e'en a wretched piece of skirt.
Since men are free no more to play,
Do feminists hope they'll all turn gay,
Or better yet be a Pretender
Cut off their balls, and change their gender?
~ FreeThinke
Sunday, June 21, 2015
A Different Side of Thomas Hood
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| Illustration to the Vauxhall Sonnet, engraving by Thos. Rowlandson |
Sonnet to Vauxhall
“The English Garden” - Mason
The cold transparent ham is on my fork—
It hardly rains—and hark the bell!—ding-dingle—
Away! Three thousand feet at gravel work,
Mocking a Vauxhall shower!—Married and Single
Crush—rush;—Soak’d Silks with wet white Satin mingle.
Hengler! Madame! round whom all bright sparks lurk
Calls audibly on Mr. and Mrs. Pringle
To study the Sublime, &c.—(vide Burke)
All Noses are upturn’d!—Whish-ish!—On high
The rocket rushes—trails—just steals in sight—
Then droops and melts in bubbles of blue light—
And Darkness reigns—Then balls flare up and die—
Wheels whiz—smack crackers—serpents twist—and then
Back to the cold transparent ham again!
~ Thomas Hood (1799-1745)
Hood’s output was created at great cost to his health. In his early days he was a talented engraver working alongside artists such as Thomas Rowlandson (a man with whom he later often collaborated), but was compelled to abandon this profession and seek an outdoor life to recover his strength. It was a tough existence, for Hood became an invalid in 1841 and was saved from financial ruin thanks only to the intervention of Prime Minister Sir Robert Peel, who was a great fan of his works.
When Hood eventually died, his family were granted a state pension –– and the public continued to adore him. A memorial was later built by public subscription in Kensal Green cemetery.
As the century progressed Hood’s poetry and witticisms remained so familiar as to be often quoted in ordinary conversation. As late as 1903 William Rossetti (of Pre-Raphaelite brotherhood fame), perhaps somewhat extravagantly, described Hood as ‘the finest English poet between the generations of Shelley and Tennyson.’ However, fashions change, and so from these heady heights of appreciation Hood has quietly slipped into obscurity, and has long-since vanished from the standard English literature curriculum.
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