All posts by Rondi Adamson

Limits

This piece by Andrew Sullivan reminds me why I used to – between 2000 and 2006/7 or thereabouts – read his blog every single day. I was trying to find a “money quote” (as we old bloggers used to call it) to feature, but the whole thing is excellent.

I’ll give you this much, about the current wokesters…

To watch this version of the left capture all of higher education and the mainstream media, to see the increasing fury and ambition of its proponents, could make a reactionary of nearly anyone who’s not onboard with this radical project.

…but I’ll caution you to read the entire column (link above).

Auden’s “Refugee Blues”

A powerful poem, written in 1939, about the plight of European Jews.

REFUGEE BLUES

Say this city has ten million souls,
Some are living in mansions, some are living in holes:
Yet there’s no place for us, my dear, yet there’s no place for us.

Once we had a country and we thought it fair,
Look in the atlas and you’ll find it there:
We cannot go there now, my dear, we cannot go there now.

In the village churchyard there grows an old yew,
Every spring it blossoms anew:
Old passports can’t do that, my dear, old passports can’t do that.

The consul banged the table and said,
“If you’ve got no passport you’re officially dead”:
But we are still alive, my dear, but we are still alive.

Went to a committee; they offered me a chair;
Asked me politely to return next year:
But where shall we go to-day, my dear, but where shall we go to-day?

Came to a public meeting; the speaker got up and said;
“If we let them in, they will steal our daily bread”:
He was talking of you and me, my dear, he was talking of you and me.

Thought I heard the thunder rumbling in the sky;
It was Hitler over Europe, saying, “They must die”:
O we were in his mind, my dear, O we were in his mind.

Saw a poodle in a jacket fastened with a pin,
Saw a door opened and a cat let in:
But they weren’t German Jews, my dear, but they weren’t German Jews.

Went down the harbour and stood upon the quay,
Saw the fish swimming as if they were free:
Only ten feet away, my dear, only ten feet away.

Walked through a wood, saw the birds in the trees;
They had no politicians and sang at their ease:
They weren’t the human race, my dear, they weren’t the human race.

Dreamed I saw a building with a thousand floors,
A thousand windows and a thousand doors:
Not one of them was ours, my dear, not one of them was ours.

Stood on a great plain in the falling snow;
Ten thousand soldiers marched to and fro:
Looking for you and me, my dear, looking for you and me.

Boris

I refuse to be irrational about Boris – in fact, I rather like him. Whether he can weather the Brexit storm is another matter, but I like some of his decisions so far: Piti Pratel, Dom Cummings, for starters; getting rid of at least 17 ministers. Here’s a fair portrait of the man.

A propos Brexit, I though poor Theresa May was treated abominably for her efforts – I have enormous respect for the woman. I know a “feminist” who criticized her for crying when she stepped down! I found that rather mean-spirited. What was wrong with her having that honest moment? I am certain that if May were a Labour politician this “feminist” would not have criticized her so harshly.

And here is a link from a few months ago – “Brexit: the Musical.” It perhaps seems a bit dated now, but I found it hilarious. And it might yet come to pass.

To the Moon

I do not understand people who are cynical about the moon landing, about space exploration in general. This is the best of America, the best of humanity – the desire to learn, to explore; the curiosity; the discoveries that give us goosebumps. I do not remember the moon landing — though my oldest brother always told me I was watching with the rest of the family — but I love watching these clips.