August 31, 2013 || 3:38 PM I have been reading about the Obon ceremony in mid-summer in Japan. It is a three-day festival to celebrate the dead. Their graves are cleaned and decorated by their descendants, and families gather together for parties and festivals. Their is a special sort of folk dance, to entertain the dead, I think. The thought of my mother flashed through my mind. I saw her in my imagination, standing there […]
Originally posted on <a href="https://cincinnatimercantile.wordpress.com/2013/08/30/the-perfect-guest/">Stacked</a>: <br /> There have been many wonderful guests in the Library in the long life of this institution. It is hard to imagine that any visit will surpass the pleasure of Seamus Heaney’s. He was a man without airs. An Irishwoman we know said that Northern Irish people were foreigners, but in our view Mr. Heaney, an Ulsterman, was the quintessence of all that is remarkable and fine in Irish literature and…
The main thing is to write for the joy of it. Cultivate a work-lust that imagines its haven like your hands at night, dreaming the sun in the sunspot of a breast. You are fasted now, light-headed, dangerous. Take off from here. And don’t be so earnest. via Seamus Heaney, Acclaimed Irish Poet, Dies at 74 – NYTimes.com.
Sunflowers from the Farmer’s Market in Boulder, Colorado.
Sometimes, when supposedly intelligent people make public statements, I find it impossible that they were ever mistaken as intelligent in the first place. For instance: I find it to be an offensive irony, a toxic irony, that Lyndon Baines Johnson—the founder of the so-called Great Society, which I consider to be the greatest insult to the individual man since Immanuel Kant first laid out his preposterous theory of the noumenal, that is to say, not […]
Explaining Socialism To A Republican.