SONG FOR ST. TAMMANY'S DAY
Of Andrew, of Patrick, of David, and George,
What mighty achievements we hear!
While no one relates great Tammany's feats,
Although more heroic by far, my brave boys,
Although more heroic by far.
These heroes fought only as fancy inspired,
As by their own stories we find;
Whilst Tammany, he fought only to free
From cruel oppression mankind, my brave boys,
From cruel oppression mankind.
When our country was young and our numbers were few
To our fathers his friendship was shown,
(For he e'er would oppose whom he took for his foes,)
And he made our misfortunes his own, my brave boys,
And he made our misfortunes his own.
At length, growing old and quite worn out with years,
As history doth truly proclaim,
His wigwam was fired, he nobly expired,
And flew to the skies in a flame, my brave boys,
And flew to the skies in a flame.
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_____ On St. Tammany's Birthday _____
A shame the name of Tammany’s been linked
With the vilest of politicos named Tweed,
Who ran New York in manner quite distinct
Eschewing never any dirty deed.
The entity still known as Tammany Hall
Shall live in infamy, and so obscures
The truth about its namesake, overall
A noble savage, whose good name endures
Only in the writings of The Sachem,
Neddy, who on Tammany heaped praise.
But kind words today are scarce. We rarely watch ‘em,
Because none restores these days, instead they raze.
Of Tammany, himself, we should think kindly,
Not follow false associations blindly.
~ FreeThinke
Lest We Forget - Today is Mothers Day
________ To Any Reader ________
As from the house your mother sees
You playing round the garden trees,
So you may see, if you will look
Through the windows of this book,
Another child, far, far away,
And in another garden, play.
But do not think you can at all,
By knocking on the window, call
That child to hear you. He intent
Is all on his play-business bent.
He does not hear; he will not look,
Nor yet be lured out of this book.
For, long ago, the truth to say,
He has grown up and gone away,
And it is but a child of air
That lingers in the garden there.
~ Robert Louis Stevenson (1850-1894)
You're a week off on Mother's Day, FT. We'll have to re-post this, then. ;)
Heard or seen any reports from Red Square today, FJ?
Ain't this supposed to be a
BOOM chicky chicky boom
Chicky chicky BOOM chicky
BOOM chicky chicky boom
Chicky chicky BOOM chicky ...
time fer dem Rooskies, or have they given all dat up?
May Day in Russia? Nope.
It's alright to be a Russian nationalist... but only if when nation represents its' citizens (not the oligarchy). When it stops doing that (respecting its' own citizens), let the revolution begin! ;)
;p
DId you know know that the distress cry "MAY DAY" is a anglicization of the French "M'AIDER" (pronounced May Day)?
In French m'aider simply means "help me."
Before REVOLUTION is possible the people must first experience REVULSION, n'est-cee-pas?
It will never happen among the common Crowd as long as they are kept "Fat, Dumb and Happy."
That's what "Socialism" has become –– a way to palliate the Mob with Bread and Circuses.
Socialistic policies essentially BRIBE the masses into acquiescence.
The masses are asses, of course, and evermore shall be so, I fear..
I didn't know that. Why did a french phrase become a distress call? Because French was the lingua franca of int'l diplomacy? Or because Louis XVI was an Enlightenment putz?
The masses are hysterics. It's when the Masters become ridiculous in the eyes of the masses that the mob deposes them. "Authority" no longer finds defenders.
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