Something is rotten at Fox News (YouTube)
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Day: August 24, 2018
davidbrucehaiku: FOR I WAS HUNGRY
https://pixabay.com/en/people-homeless-male-street-850097/
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FOR I WAS HUNGRY
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For I was hungry
— How to get into Heaven —
And you gave me food
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NOTE: Read Matthew 25:31-46
Matthew 25:31-46 1599 Geneva Bible (GNV)
31 And when the Son of man cometh in his glory and all the holy Angels with him, then shall he sit upon the throne of his glory,
32 And before him shall be gathered all nations, and he shall separate them one from another as a shepherd separateth the sheep from the goats.
33 And he shall set the sheep on his right hand, and the goats on the left.
34 Then shall the king say to them on his right hand, Come ye blessed of my father: take the inheritance of the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world.
35 For I was an hungered, and ye gave me meat: I thirsted, and ye gave me drink: I was a stranger, and ye took me in unto you.
36 I was naked, and ye clothed me: I was sick, and ye visited me: I was in prison, and ye came unto me.
37 Then shall the righteous answer him, saying, Lord, when saw we thee an hungered, and fed thee? or athirst, and gave thee drink?
38 And when saw we thee a stranger, and took thee in unto us? or naked, and clothed thee?
39 Or when saw we thee sick, or in prison, and came unto thee?
40 And the king shall answer, and say unto them, Verily I say unto you, inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it to me.
41 Then shall he say to them on the left hand, Depart from me ye cursed, into everlasting fire, which is prepared for the devil and his angels.
42 For I was an hungered, and ye gave me no meat: I thirsted, and ye gave me no drink:
43 I was a stranger, and ye took me not in unto you: I was naked, and ye clothed me not: sick, and in prison, and ye visited me not.
44 Then shall they also answer him, saying, Lord, when saw we thee an hungered, or athirst, or a stranger, or naked, or sick, or in prison, and did not minister unto thee?
45 Then shall he answer them, and say, Verily I say unto you, inasmuch as ye did it not to one of the least of these, ye did it not to me.
46 And these shall go into everlasting pain, and the righteous into life eternal.
***
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David Bruce: William Shakespeare’s 3 HENRY VI: A Retelling — Act 2, Scene 6
— 2.6 —
In another part of the battlefield, an injured Lord Clifford knew he was dying.
Alone, he said, “Here burns my candle out; yes, here it dies. My candle, while it lasted, gave the Lancastrian King Henry VI light.
“Oh, House of Lancaster, I fear your overthrow more than my body’s parting with my soul! Love and fear of me glued many friends to you, and now that I am falling, your tough commixture melts — your strong alliances dissolve.
“Impairing Henry and strengthening wickedly proud York, the common people swarm like summer flies; and where do gnats fly but to the Sun? And who shines now but Henry’s enemies?
“Oh, Phoebus Apollo — Henry — if you had never given consent that Phaethon — the Duke of York — should control your fiery steeds, your burning Sun-chariot would never have scorched the Earth!
“And, Henry, had you ruled as Kings should do, or as your father and his father did, giving no ground to the House of York, they never then had sprung up like summer flies. I and ten thousand other men in this luckless realm would not have left any widows mourning for our death, and you this day would have kept your throne in peace.
“For what nourishes weeds but gentle air? And what makes robbers bold but too much lenity?
“But useless are my complaints, and incurable are my wounds. I have no way to flee, nor do I have the strength to sustain flight.
“The foe is merciless, and will not pity me, for at their hands I have deserved no pity. The air has gotten into my fatal wounds, and much shedding of blood makes me faint.
“Come, York and Richard, Warwick and the rest. I stabbed your fathers’ bosoms; now split my breast.”
He fainted.
A trumpet called the Lancastrian army to retreat, leaving the Yorkist army triumphant.
The Yorkists Edward, George, Richard, the Marquess of Montague, and the Earl of Warwick arrived. Some Yorkist soldiers were with them.
Edward said, “Now we rest, lords. Good fortune bids us pause and smooth the frowns of war with peaceful looks.
“Some troops pursue the bloodthirsty-minded Queen, who led calm Henry, although he were a King, as a sail, filled with a fretting gust, commands and forces an argosy — a large merchant ship — to make headway against the waves.
“But, lords, do you think that Lord Clifford fled with them?”
“No, it is impossible that he should escape,” the Earl of Warwick said, “for although before your brother Richard’s face I speak the words, Richard marked him for the grave, and wherever Lord Clifford is, he’s surely dead.”
Lord Clifford groaned and died.
Edward said, “Whose soul is that which takes its sorrowful departure?”
Richard said, “A deadly groan, like life departing and leaving death.”
“See who it is,” Edward said, “and now the battle’s ended, whether he is friend or foe, let him be gently treated.”
Richard looked at the corpse and said, “Revoke that sentence of mercy, for it is Clifford, who not contented that he lopped the branch in hewing Rutland when his leaves put forth, set his murdering knife to the root from whence that tender spray did sweetly spring. I mean that Lord Clifford murdered our Princely father, the Duke of York.”
The Earl of Warwick said, “From off the gates of York fetch down your father’s head, which Clifford placed there. Instead, let this head take its place. Measure must be repaid with measure. An eye for an eye; a tooth for a tooth.”
Edward said about Lord Clifford’s body, “Bring forth that fatal screech owl to our house, that owl that sang nothing but death to us and ours. Now death shall stop his dismal threatening sound, and his ill-boding tongue no more shall speak.”
The Earl of Warwick looked at Lord Clifford’s body and said, “I think his understanding has left him.
“Speak, Clifford, do you know who is speaking to you?
“Dark, cloudy death casts a gloom over his beams of life, and he neither sees us nor hears what we say.”
“Oh, I wish he did!” Richard said. “And so perhaps he does. Perhaps it is just his trick and he is pretending to be dead because he wants to avoid such bitter taunts as those that he gave our father in his time of death.”
George said, “If you think so, then vex him with sharp, cutting words.”
“Clifford, ask for mercy and obtain no grace,” Richard said.
“Clifford, repent in unavailing penitence,” Edward said.
The Earl of Warwick said, “Clifford, make excuses for your crimes and sins —”
“— while we devise cruel tortures for your crimes and sins,” George said.
“You ‘loved’ York,” Richard said, “and I am a son of the old Duke of York.”
“You ‘pitied’ Rutland,” Edward said. “I will ‘pity’ you.”
“Where’s Captain Margaret, to protect you now?” George asked.
“They mock you, Clifford,” the Earl of Warwick said. “Swear as you were accustomed to swear.”
“What, no oath!” Richard said. “The world goes hard when Clifford cannot spare his ‘friends’ an oath. I know by that he’s dead, and by my soul, if this right hand could buy two hours of life for him, so that I in all contempt might rail at him, this hand would chop off my other hand, and with the blood that spurts out I would choke and strangle and drown this villain whose unquenchable thirst for blood the deaths of the old Duke of York and young Rutland could not satisfy.”
“Yes, he’s dead,” the Earl of Warwick said. “Off with the traitor’s head, and put it in the place where your father’s head now stands. And now triumphantly march to London, where you will be crowned England’s royal King: Edward IV. From London I, Warwick, will cut the sea to France, and ask for the Lady Bona, sister-in-law of the King of France to be your Queen. With that marriage, you shall strongly join, as with a sinew, both these lands — England and France — together. And, having the King of France as your friend, you shall not dread the scattered foes — the Lancastrians — who hope to rise again. For although they cannot greatly sting to hurt, yet look to have them buzz to offend your ears. They will circulate rumors about you.
“First I will see the coronation, and then I’ll cross the sea to Brittany to bring about this marriage, if it pleases my lord.”
“Do as you will, sweet Warwick,” Edward said. “Let it be done, for with your strong shoulder as my support I build my throne, and I will never undertake the thing for which your counsel and consent are lacking.
“Richard, I will make you Duke of Gloucester, and George, I will make you Duke of Clarence.”
Using the royal plural, he said, “Warwick, with the consent of and acting as ourself, shall do and undo as pleases him best.”
Richard joked, “Let me be the Duke of Clarence, and let George be the Duke of Gloucester because Gloucester’s Dukedom is too ominous. The previous three Dukes of Gloucester have died violent deaths.”
The Earl of Warwick said, “Tut, that’s a foolish observation. Richard, you will be the Duke of Gloucester. Now let’s go to London to see to the rituals that will give all of you possession of these honors.”
***
Copyright by Bruce D. Bruce; All Rights Reserved
***
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David Bruce: Work Anecdotes
As a child, L.M. Montgomery, author of Anne of Green Gables, was lonely but imaginative. She named her geranium “Bonny” and even gave trees such names as “Little Syrup.” In addition, she invented imaginary friends who lived behind the two glass doors of a cabinet. Behind one glass door lived Katie Maurice, an imaginary friend of her own age. Behind the other glass door lived an older imaginary friend: Lucy Gray. Of course, as an adult Ms. Montgomery put her imagination to use writing novels and other literary works of art. When she was a teacher, she forced herself to get up and write one hour an day before teaching. She did this even in winter, when it was so cold that she had to wear a heavy coat as she wrote. Later in life, after she had achieved success, she wrote, “When people say to me, as they occasionally do, ‘Oh, how I envy you your gift, how I wish I could write as you do,’ I am inclined to wonder, with some inward amusement, how much they would have envied me on those dark, cold, winter mornings of my apprenticeship.”
Oral historian Studs Terkel may be the world’s greatest interviewer, but he is inept when it comes to mechanical things such as making sure that a tape recorder is turned on. One day, he was interviewing an African-American woman with three kids, all of whom were living in public housing. She asked him, “’Have you noticed that machine is not working?” He had pushed the wrong button. She pushed the right button, and the tape recorder began to work. Mr. Terkel says, “From that point on, she became not only my equal but my better. And that is important, because when you are interviewing a person, that person must count.” Then she spoke eloquently about her life. After the interview, Mr. Terkel says that “the kids want to hear mummy’s voice. I play the tape back. She’d given the most eloquent account you could imagine of her life; a black person’s outing in a white world. It was so moving. When it finished, there was a pause. She said: ‘My God —I never knew I felt that way.’” Mr. Terkel adds about himself, “It can help to be inept.”
Bob and Ray, aka Bob Elliott and Ray Goulding, worked together for decades as comedians, and apparently the entire time they were trying to make each other laugh, and as a side effect they made their audiences laugh. According to Andy Rooney, who wrote a foreword to one of the collections of Bob and Ray’s scripts, the two men “have three distinct personalities. There’s Bob’s, there’s Ray’s, and then there’s Bob & Ray’s.” According to Mr. Rooney, when you met the two men separately, “two duller people you never talked to.” And Chris Elliott, Bob’s son, who is also a comedian, says that for years he thought his father was some kind of a businessman. Only at age 11 did Chris realize that his father worked as a comedian for a living. Of course, Bob and Ray were very close. Late in their career together, Ray joked, “I’ve been married to my wife for thirty-seven years, and to Bob for thirty-five.”
Jack Kirby is King of Comics, and his art filled many, many comic books. He was known for working well and quickly, filling page after page with high-quality artwork. However, early in his career Mr. Kirby worked for Victor Fox, a man who paid artists poorly and who wanted profits much more than masterpieces; therefore, Mr. Kirby took shortcuts in his artwork. For example, he would draw a large cloud, which took little work, then add a tiny, quickly drawn airplane to fill a panel of a comic book. One day, he filled an entire panel with the word “Wow.” Mr. Fox was puzzled, and he asked Mr. Kirby what was the point of the word “Wow.” Mr. Kirby stumbled out an explanation about relating to kids on their level. This satisfied Mr. Fox, and very quickly his other artists started to fill panels with the word “Wow,” knowing—as Mr. Kirby did—that this was a quick way to create a panel.
Not much is known about the life of the ancient Greek mathematician Archimedes, and much of what has been recorded by ancient historians about him probably falls into the category of gossip and legend rather than biography. For example, supposedly Archimedes was such a constant thinker about his work that he forgot to eat or to bathe, and sometimes people had to literally pick him up and carry him to the baths so that he could be clean again. Even then, he would draw diagrams on the ground or in the oil rubbed onto his body because he was so preoccupied with mathematics and other intellectual work.
A student developed a problem, and a teacher helped the student learn how to solve the problem, and the teacher was proud of her work. The teacher’s home developed a plumbing problem, and a plumber took care of the problem, and the plumber was proud of his work. The plumber’s car developed a problem, and an automobile mechanic took care of the problem, and the mechanic was proud of his work. The automobile mechanic developed a health problem, and a doctor took care of the problem, and the doctor was proud of her work. And so on and so on. The moral? All trades have their experts.
At age 16, White Rabbits bass player Adam Russell dropped out of high school because he was annoyed that his teachers insisted that he listen to them instead of reading books such as philosophy texts by Nietzsche, Moby Dick, and physics textbooks during class. Later, he moved to New York where he played music and got a job in the Strand bookstore, for which he had to take a test before being gainfully employed. The test included such questions as “Who wrote The Age of Innocence?” and “Who wrote Catcher in the Rye?” Not surprisingly, he had no trouble passing the test.
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Copyright by Bruce D. Bruce; All Rights Reserved
***
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Edgar Lee Masters: Seth Compton (Spoon River Anthology)
WHEN I died, the circulating library
Which I built up for Spoon River,
And managed for the good of inquiring minds,
Was sold at auction on the public square,
As if to destroy the last vestige
Of my memory and influence.
For those of you who could not see the virtue
Of knowing Volney’s “Ruins” as well as Butler’s “Analogy”
And “Faust” as well as “Evangeline,”
Were really the power in the village,
And often you asked me
“What is the use of knowing the evil in the world?”
I am out of your way now, Spoon River,
Choose your own good and call it good.
For I could never make you see
That no one knows what is good
Who knows not what is evil;
And no one knows what is true
Who knows not what is false.
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“Art is not made for anybody and is, at the same time, for everybody.” — M o o r e z a r t
Originally posted on Art of Quotation: “Art is not made for anybody and is, at the same time, for everybody.” Piet Mondrian, painter
via “Art is not made for anybody and is, at the same time, for everybody.” — M o o r e z a r t
davidbrucehaiku: A BEAUTIFUL DAY
https://pixabay.com/en/sky-flowers-nature-bloom-summer-3618233/
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Not all beautiful
Days have clear bright blue skies and
White cumulous clouds
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Five cows — The Cheesesellers Wife
Five cows on the bridge watch the traffic As it stutters on the road below Dark shapes against the winter sun Standing where the cold wind blows Five cows on the bridge watch the traffic An audience for our tragic play As we rush to and fro Missing the slow beat of life around us […]
Cherita #14 — TANYA CLIFF
dissonant chord struck guitar strings pulled too tightly their tension teased latent teardrops from the heavy air ~ Words and Photography ©2018 Tanya Cliff ~ to contact me Posted in poetry & cherita. Bookmark the permalink.
Because I Liked You by A.E. Housman — The Cheesesellers Wife
Because I liked you better Than suits a man to say, It irked you, and I promised To throw the thought away. To put the world between us We parted, stiff and dry; ‘Good-bye,’ said you, ‘forget me.’ ‘I will, no fear’, said I. If here, where clover whitens The dead man’s knoll, you pass, […]
via Because I Liked You by A.E. Housman — The Cheesesellers Wife
davidbruceblog #2 