NOTE: Jim Goad of Taki’s Mag came up with these artifacts in his piece Does It Matter if Hillary Clinton is a Carpet Muncher? I just had some fun with the captions.
Tags: Saph Inflection?
The Islamic State in Iraq and Syria. A very, very rude beast. It takes the words of a poet to begin to describe the horrors these furies are inflicting in such a resolute and businesslike way. If you haven’t read it, or haven’t read it in a while, you might read or reread Yeats’ The Second Coming.
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
Maybe after that Matthew Arnold’s Dover Beach.
Ah, love, let us be true
To one another! for the world, which seems
To lie before us like a land of dreams,
So various, so beautiful, so new,
Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light,
Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain;
And we are here as on a darkling plain
Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight,
Where ignorant armies clash by night.
[UPDATE]: When I first put this out to the web I was so affected by those pictures that I omitted the relevant portions of text and also hyper-links to the entire poems. That is fixed. I am not usually unmoored by gory photographs. Service years ago on a grand jury inured me to revulsion at pictures of wounds and dead bodies. No, the thing about the pictures which threw me was the feeling that something implacable, insatiable, something raw and ragged lurked just behind the surfaces of the photos, something more akin to Mordor or Azkaban than something that, horrible though it was, might look better in the morning. I don’t know if anyone who was able to survive these horrors will ever know dawn or morning again.
At least that is what I felt. That only great poetry could reach deeply enough inside to touch the place that is sickened by words and pictures like these in this bulletin from The Telegraph.
That was my first thought.
My second thought was for the people who were driven to apoplexia by just the idea that we might have put some water up the noses of a few people who like to organize parties like these.
My third thought was how glad I was that Barack Obama, having personally killed Osama bin Laden, had fled from Iraq so that all our weapons, tanks, half-tracks, planes, and military bases could be taken over by people who would put them to such good use.
In fact, considering where everybody around Obama has to keep his head in order to stay on his good side and not force him to make a moue they ought to be checking the nose-hairs of his foursome for crab lice.
The word headwinds takes on a new meaning when your head is up someone’s behind.