Saturday, June 15, 2013

 The soul selects her own Society ––
Then shuts the Door ––
On her divine Majority
Obtrude no more ––
Unmoved –– she notes the Chariots –– pausing ––
At her low Gate ––
Unmoved, an Emperor is kneeling
Upon her Mat ––
I've known her from an ample nation
Choose one ––
Then –– close the valves of her attention ––
Like stone.

~ Emily Dickinson (1830-1886)

On this the First Anniversary of the day FreeThinke’s Blog began, our days of active participation in the blogosphere have come to an end. We have been planning for some time to cease operations altogether on this date.

The atmosphere throughout the blogosphere is malignant. It is bound to have a deleterious effect on our health both mental and physical, if we remain involved with it much longer. The blogs have become nothing but a repository for childish hatred, extreme cynicism, insolence, bilious rhetoric, malevolence, spite, and lunacy.

What we have learned about human nature through this experience is frankly horrifying. The recent spate of moronic hate mail in response to our efforts to foster an atmosphere of amity, comity, relative sanity and good humor has been enough to gag a maggot.

More and more we feel soiled by this process.

There have been a small handful who've shown understanding, kindness, appreciation and support, and for them we shall always be thankful, but a small handful is not enough to warrant our continuing to pour effort into an obvious exercise in futility. 

Our best efforts here have been largely ignored –– or perverted by willful misunderstanding. 

Only a seriously ill person would continue to drink from an open sewer on a daily basis. 

We wish you well, as we retire to pray our country may one day begin to grow and prosper mentally, morally, culturally and spiritually once again.

~ FreeThinke

Friday, June 14, 2013

I never hear the word "escape"
 Without a quicker blood ––
A sudden agitation ––
A flying attitude.

I never hear of prisons broad
By soldiers battered down
But I tug –– childish –– at my bars ––
Only to fail again.

~ Emily Dickinson (1830-1886)

~ § ~

__________________________________ Her House

________________ Creamy quiet rooms
____________________ filled with light ––
________________ Sparsely furnished rooms 
____________________ filled with light ––
________________________ almost black
________________ An island here and there ––
____________________ polished wood ––
________________________ darkly gleams.

________________ Beeswax and bureau scarves ––
____________________ echoes of lavender from Before ––
________________________ captured in a drawer.

________________ A solitary bee
____________________ for company.

________________ A dainty Hitchcock chair ––
____________________ a skeleton in black
________________________ against the light ––
________________ A churchyard framed in white ––
____________________ crisp unspotted white.

________________ A stillness so pure
____________________ one could hear
________________________ the waltzing whir
____________________________ of moth wings ––
____________________ Somewhere
________________________ in the attic.

~ FreeThinke, The Sandpiper, (1994)

A Pilgrimage to Amherst’

The great American poet, Emily Dickinson may have died in 1886, but even so she has functioned as the Big Sister I never had –– a soulmate –– a confidante –– and an endless source of empathy and inspiration since I discovered her in a high school English class at the age of 14.

I once made a pilgrimage to visit Emily's House and her grave in Amherst. It was March. Snow still lay on the ground. The house was closed to the public, but that turned out to be an advantage. I had the property all to myself, and derived a remarkable sense of oneness with its former inhabitant from walking around her snow-encrusted garden, gazing up at her window. Contemplating which of the trees had been there when she still walked the earth. Quoting her poetry aloud –– and some of mine. Thanking her. Praying for her.

I spent hours there absolutely transfixed. I was in tears much of the time, but it felt good. Probably the closest thing I've ever had to a mystical experience.

If anyone had observed me, they undoubtedly would have thought me insane –– possibly dangerous. Fortunately, I was alone –– a Great Gift. Solitude can make it easier to touch the Heart of Reality more than Confrontation –– or merely pleasant social interaction.

As sunset approached I walked the short distance to her grave –– a modest affair that took me some time to find –– and there I told her once again how much she meant to me. Then I thanked her, and left.

Dinner at The Lord Jeffery Inn –– a place I had known and loved with my parents in my pre-Kindergarten days –– helped bring me back to earth, although the place had remained remarkably unchanged in the nearly-sixty years since I had seen it last, and for a tremulous moment I felt I could see my pretty young mother in her yellow linen suit from Bonwit-Teller's standing next to her suitcase in black and white hound's tooth-checked leather trimmed with light brown alligator skin, and my handsome father in his Glenn Plaid double-breasted suit checking in at the counter.

Another emotional moment, but the excellent dinner I had there proved a comfort, and brought a welcome sense of closure to the experience I'd had that remarkable day.

"Much madness is divinest sense ... " she said. I cannot fail to agree.

Thursday, June 13, 2013

The Desperate Times

 About Edward Snowden

Normally, I would be dead set against any American who wasn't strictly on "OUR SIDE," but when when "our side" isn't really ON "our side" anymore, I feel we ought to hail anyone who dares to expose the hideous fraud which administers "our" affairs in ways contrary to "our" best interests as somethng of a HERO.
That said, Ed Snowden's prison pallor and nerdy, geeky personality (sort of like that of Jack Loo!) marks him as a loser –– no one I'd want to meet for lunch or dinner.
I admit this is just a snap judgment on my part based on very little reading –– and as always in matters of this sort, "it all depends on who ox is being gored," –– I guess. 

I still hate Daniel Ellsberg's and the “Winter Soldier’s” effin’ guts, but I still believed in my country in those bygone days. Sadly, I no longer do, and if there were still a "New World" to escape to, I'd go there in a heartbeat.


This is a Blogblighter

 We strongly urge compulsive mudslingers 
and cyber-graffiti artists to join


Membership is offered free-of-charge as a Public Service. 

It's never too late to turn your life around. 
While there's life, there's hope –– even for YOU.

There's a

All you need to do to qualify for membership is to express your desire to stop being a bloody nuisance in the blogosphere.

Families of compulsive BLOGBLIGHTERS are cordially invited to join BLOGANON –– a support group for the families and victims of the criminally insane.

~ § ~

Wednesday, June 12, 2013

It dropped so low – in my Regard –
I heard it hit the Ground –
And go to pieces on the Stones
At bottom of my Mind –

Yet blamed the Fate that flung it – less
Than I denounced Myself,
For entertaining Plated Wares
Upon My Silver Shelf –
~ Emily Dickinson (1830-1886)

Tuesday, June 11, 2013

Our lives are Swiss –– so still –– so cool
Till some odd afternoon 
The Alps neglect their curtains
And we see farther on.

Italy stands the other side ––
While like a guard between
The solemn Alps –– the siren Alps ––
Forever intervene.

~ Emily Dickinson (1830-1886)

Monday, June 10, 2013

 interviewed by

One cold night, as an Arab sat in his tent, a camel gently thrust his nose under the flap and looked in. 
"Master," he said, "let me put my nose in your tent. It's cold and stormy out here." 
"By all means," said the Arab, "and welcome" as he turned over and went to sleep.
A little later the Arab awoke to find that the camel had not only put his nose in the tent but his head and neck also. 
The camel, who had been turning his head from side to side, said, "I will take but little more room if I place my forelegs within the tent. It is difficult standing out here." 
"Yes, you may put your forelegs within," said the Arab, moving a little to make room, for the tent was small.
Finally, the camel said, "May I not stand wholly inside? I keep the tent open by standing as I do." 
"Yes, yes," said the Arab. "Come wholly inside. Perhaps it will be better for both of us." So the camel crowded in. 
The Arab with difficulty in the crowded quarters again went to sleep. When he woke up the next time, he was outside in the cold and the camel had the tent to himself. 

Sunday, June 9, 2013

 Winston Churchill as a young man

Churchill as Britain's Prime Minister

"How dreadful are the curses which Mohammedanism lays on its votaries!  Besides the fanatical frenzy, which is as dangerous in a man as hydrophobia in a dog, there is this fearful fatalistic apathy.  The effects are apparent in many countries, improvident habits, slovenly systems of agriculture, sluggish methods of commerce, and insecurity of property exist wherever the followers of the Prophet rule or live.

“A degraded sensualism deprives this life of its grace and refinement, the next of its dignity and sanctity.  The fact that in Mohammedan law every woman must belong to some man as his absolute property, either as a child, a wife, or a concubine, must delay the final extinction of slavery until the faith of Islam has ceased to be a great power among men.

“Individual Muslims may show splendid qualities, but the influence of the religion paralyses the social development of those who follow it.  No stronger retrograde force exists in the world.  Far from being moribund, Mohammedanism is a militant and proselytizing faith.  It has already spread throughout Central Africa, raising fearless warriors at every step;  and were it not that Christianity is sheltered in the strong arms of science, the science against which it had vainly struggled, the civilization of modern Europe might fall, as fell the civilization of ancient Rome ..."

[NOTE: The above speech was written in 1899 (The River War, 1899, first edition, is not available online). These words were delivered in 1899 when Churchill was a young soldier and journalist. They express the views of Islam many have come to hold today in colorful Churchillian prose.  Winston Churchill was, without doubt, one of the most significant leaders of the 20th century –– a brave soldier, a fine journalist, an extraordinary politician and statesman, and a great war leader as Britain’s Prime Minister to whom the Western world must be forever indebted.  A prophet in his own time he died on 24th January 1965, at age 90 after a lifetime of service to his country, and was accorded a State Funeral.]

SOURCE: Winston Churchill: The River War, first edition, Vol II, pp 248-250, London, 1899).

[FYI: SNOPES does not deny this, but takes considerable pains, of course, to denigrate Sir Winston as a racist, imperialist icon and an emblem of Western Shame in a series of responses left by leftists –– who else?]

Saturday, June 8, 2013

Yesterday’s Red Herring 
Still Stinks Out Loud

 What was the gist of that post?

We received some intelligent responses, but all of them missed 
the point we were trying to make.

Poor reading comprehension on the part of readers?

 –– OR––

Poor communication skills on the part of the editor?

Let’s try it again.

What Was the Red Herring?

A. To stir up hatred against Islam?

B. To promote homosexuality?

C. To denigrate Marxism?

D. To condemn all religion?

E. To indicate how relatively trivial matters dominate the discourse and distract us from issues of genuine concern?

F. To trap readers into exposing their fundamentally destructive, pointedly negative orientation?

G. All of the above? If so why?

H. None of the above? If so why?

Please discuss ...

Friday, June 7, 2013



Lest somehow you could manage
In every bed to be
There could be no advantage
To banning sodomy.

The state exists –– or should exist –– to protect us from criminals and from any and all forms of attack against our sovereignty or territorial integrity. We should be able to discriminate fiercely and decisively against enemies that arise within our own ranks. In a sane society the stinking red herring of homosexual marriage –– or any form of private behavior between consenting adults –– could never qualify as that powerful an enemy.

For good or for ill the state should have no power to legislate for or against matters of taste, style, or behavior, unless the overt expression of those things impinge on the rights of others to enjoy their lives as they see fit.

What is the choice? Give the state the power to discriminate against gays? Or give the state the power to discriminate against religions? ... I say get the state out of it completely.

I would agree completely again, if it were not for the issue of “religion.” I, personally, refuse to define or accept anyone else’s definition of ISLAM as a “religion.” ISLAM is NOT a RELIGION. It is a SUBVERSION, an INCURSION an INVASION, a CORRUPTION and a PERVERSION of every principle on which this country was founded, and as such it –– and all the other “enemies within” should be vigorously discriminated against. I said VIGOROUSLY not VIOLENTLY.

The idea that homosexuality per se –– a natural human phenomenon that has appeared in every culture at all levels and among members of every “faith,” since time immemorial –– should be classified as injurious to society is arrant nonsense.

The political objectives behind the Gay Liberation Movement, however, are a other thing altogether.  Satan makes use of anything and everything within reach to work his deceitful wiles. 

Satan, however, is not in sex, but in all the vile, psychologically maiming superstitions that grew up around sex.

Thursday, June 6, 2013

Tiptoe Through the Poo Poo
 Dedicated to Our Darling Tribe of Trolls

Tiptoe through the poo poo
At the websites in the blogosphere, then
Tiptoe thought through the poo poo, and see
Me try to tiptoe ‘round the witless.
Join me quickly; do it gin-ger-ly,
And tiptoe through the poo poo with me.

Knee deep in doo doo we’ll sink
Sniffing the ungodly stink,

And when I slip slide through the poo poo
And you do too
Will you pardon me
And sit down in the poo poo with me?

And when we step out of the poo poo
at the website
Will you come with me,
And wash off all the poo poo with me?

~ Anne Animus

Heh heh heh! We're gonna gitcha!

Wednesday, June 5, 2013

When was the last time you considered how Mount Rushmore must look from the Canadian side?
NOW do you see what I mean when I talk about the virtue of making every effort to consider all things from every imaginable perspective?

Tuesday, June 4, 2013

Sunday, June 2, 2013


Do you remember these ads back in the in innocent days of yore –– or have you spent all these years trying to forget?

If you consider these ads "demeaning to women," you must be a Post-Modern Feminist.

Why was no one upset when they first came out back in the 1950's? Why did no one consider them pornographic? Even "churchladies" of the period found them quite acceptable, because they appeared in The Ladies Home Journal and all the other respectable magazines of the period.

Saturday, June 1, 2013

What's the Trouble with Modernism?  

It spends most of its time angrily ATTACKING, or sullenly DISAPPROVING, or childishly REBELLING. It rarely-if-ever evokes Empathy, inspires a deeper appreciation of Beauty, Affection or Mirth, neither does it attempt to appreciate Tenderness or inspire Courage, Loyalty and Devotion to anything higher than Self. 

Taken altogether most of the "Art" and "Philosophy" of the past century might be interpreted as a gigantic TEMPER TANTRUM –– ACCUSATION –– a nose-thumbing REJECTION and HATRED of REALITY. In other words it's largely been a cynical celebration of NIHILISM. It seems nothing more nor less than an all-out embrace of utter IRRATIONALITY.

I dislike letting myself be defined by others, because in truth I don’t fit neatly into any pre-constructed pigeonhole –– and don’t want to. I much prefer to design and build my own life. However, I suppose I must qualify most closely as a true PALEO-Conservative –– a term I don't even believe in, because it assumes there is another, more "modern" form of Conservatism –– NEO-Conservatism –– which is a TRAVESTY of the real thing. 

Anything that strives to be different merely for the sake of being different is only a childishly perverse IMITATION of what is real and good. Doing the exact opposite of any established, value, virtue or accepted norm is nothing more than a form of imitation.  It takes a great deal more than that to produce something genuinely original. 

Any fool can give Beauty a black eye, a broken nose or a fat lip. That in no way means he, she or it has established NEW STANDARDS of BEAUTY.