Fine and fitful, fair are the briars...........
Whatsoever they might be.
But the prospect of man is a
bleak one.
Yet no tornadic winds,
as yet, encapsulate him
and toss him about by
reason of it's buffeting blasts.
What comes of he who
is so ship-tossed
and tempest-tossed,
borne along by the fearful winds which
do little else
but assail his humble craft?
What humble craft?
What of writing?
What of poetry
What of pottery-what?
Can I, or you, or anyone, eke out
e'en the meagerest living in this creativity-loathing
foolish world?
The world where the truth must be known:
No man, unless he displays the nontalent necessary to be
harnessed by the corrupt state to seize and fool and enslave the people.....
and proof that he attended the multitudinous exclusionary bastions of some convulsive perversion of education?
Of their education-of re-education?
Their plenary powers, given to them by foolish men, unscrupulous men, and ignorant men,
these, they must be stripped away from them
And mankind be freed.
I envision a world so horrid, so unresisting, so hopeless, that not More, nor Orwell, nor Huxley, nor any of them, nor all of them combined, could ever envisaged it....that is a possible outcome if things are not changed.
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