Poetry Time

A Version of Pasternak's "Hamlet"

The hour is at hand: it calls the actor.
The crowd grows still as I step through the arch.
There's the cue: an echo from the future.
I must come forth and give the fated speech.

A thousand eyes, in darkness, throng about me;
Like Roman swords, they'll pierce me till I bleed.
O if it be Thy will, Abba, Father,
Then take the proffered cup away from me.

For I adore your rigorous conception,
And am content to play my given role.
But these new lines will scorch the throat that speaks them;
This once, I pray, remove me from the bill.

No: I see the acts have all been plotted;
The journey's end already has been willed.
I'm alone, while the world drowns in falsehood.
Cross this stage, and you cross a killing field.

Translated by Chris Floyd

Courtesy of Empire Burlesque.

'Let's get ready to rumble'

 
 

Okay.

Well...brrreaking news...there's a meta shitstorm going on at Teh Daily Kos (when isn't there?) and I've decided to let the various players involved use this place to fight it out because that's what we do here - meta.

Now, I don't know exactly what this is all about. There's talk of "ponies" and "pragmatics" and "hero worshippers" and "dirty fucking hippies" and "racism" and "rainbows" and "secret cabals" and the wreck list and various conspiracy theories. And this all involves "factions" (although I'm pretty sure we're not talking about the Crips and the Bloods here).

In other words: same shit, different day.

So, if you want to have it out, here are the rules:

1. There are no rules.
2. See rule number one.

If you're new here, this was our first post back in 2006 when a bunch of us migrated here from Booman Tribune and Daily Kos.

There are no referees here. You're on your own. (Unless somebody's posting spam trying to sell faux Rolex™ watches - then we might step in.) So, no complaining to the management if somebody hurts your feelings. We don't care.

Any questions?

Oh yeah - NO "pootie" pics. And they're called "cats", for fuck's sake: CATS.