from Seamus Heaney’s “The Cure at Troy" 1991.
History says, Don’t hope
On this side of the grave.
But then, once in a lifetime
The longed-for tidal wave
Of justice can rise up,
And hope and history rhyme.
from U2's "Peace on Earth" 2000.
Hear it every Christmas time
But hope and history won't rhyme
So what's it worth?
This peace on earth.
______________
Sunday, October 08, 2006
Friday, October 06, 2006
Animal Noises
When Li'l A was a toothless, smiling wonder, Thatha, his grandfather, used to entertain him with animal noises. These are a few that i remember, Thatha's annotations are noted parenthetically:
"Naiiiiiiah-Naiiiiiiah" (that's a horse)
"Bow! bow-bow bow" (dog)
"Wroof, wroof woof" (another dog)
"Phrrrt phrruut" (elephant)
!!!!????Uhhh????!!!!
I protested for the sake of honor and integrity in the re-production of animal noise: "That's not an elephant!"
"It is," Thatha insisted. And he enlightened me thusly, "I didn't say it was an elephant trumpeting, that's the sound of an elephant farting."
Ok. Fair enough.
____
"Naiiiiiiah-Naiiiiiiah" (that's a horse)
"Bow! bow-bow bow" (dog)
"Wroof, wroof woof" (another dog)
"Phrrrt phrruut" (elephant)
!!!!????Uhhh????!!!!
I protested for the sake of honor and integrity in the re-production of animal noise: "That's not an elephant!"
"It is," Thatha insisted. And he enlightened me thusly, "I didn't say it was an elephant trumpeting, that's the sound of an elephant farting."
Ok. Fair enough.
____
Thursday, October 05, 2006
Putting the 'Amis' in 'Islamism' (A Followup)
I originally referred to Martin Amis's thoughts on 'Islamism' here. Though it's latish now, i’d like to point to two very articulate responses to Amis's article, which originally appeared in The Guardian.
Riposte one is by Dave Bonta who guested over at Modal Minority with the reminder that 9-11 (the 2006 version) marks one hundred years of the beginning of Satyagraha.
Riposte two is by Pankaj Mishra, whose article in The Guardian does the typical Pankaj Mishra thing where he explains every! thing! as if we’ve been away in another universe and haven’t kept in touch with earth happenings for ages. Still and all, a good article.
_____
Riposte one is by Dave Bonta who guested over at Modal Minority with the reminder that 9-11 (the 2006 version) marks one hundred years of the beginning of Satyagraha.
Riposte two is by Pankaj Mishra, whose article in The Guardian does the typical Pankaj Mishra thing where he explains every! thing! as if we’ve been away in another universe and haven’t kept in touch with earth happenings for ages. Still and all, a good article.
_____
Tuesday, October 03, 2006
Monday, October 02, 2006
"You must be the change you wish to see in the world."

Be The Change needs volunteers for projects (incl. soup kitchen, food pantry, meal delivery, and school beautification) in New York on October 7th.
Li'l A and i are up for the soup kitchen.
More at Be the Change.
Happy Gandhi Jayanti, y'all!
__________
Sunday, October 01, 2006
When Life Hands you Lemons…
It's surely time to make your much-loved salad.
For the dressing: Whisk lemon juice, olive oil, balsamic vinegar, pinch of fresh pepper and crushed garlic.
Pour on: Layered baby greens, tomatoes, baby carrots, kalamata olives, red beans, and crumbled feta.
Bonus cosmic thumbs-up (wink on the side): When you find peace at the center of your tomato :).

For the dressing: Whisk lemon juice, olive oil, balsamic vinegar, pinch of fresh pepper and crushed garlic.
Pour on: Layered baby greens, tomatoes, baby carrots, kalamata olives, red beans, and crumbled feta.
Bonus cosmic thumbs-up (wink on the side): When you find peace at the center of your tomato :).



PIPE
In the darkness
She reads his mind,
Brailing the sure heft,
The extent of his body.
Considered kisses
Are soft as cotton;
She can ignite them
Like matchsticks.
Then coolly watch:
They’ll burn slo-mo
All the way down,
Kiss her fingertips.
Cocooned by breath
Shaped like a kiss,
Think--the perfect color
Should be called 'Kiss,'
Would stick irresistibly
And ever so lightly
As if reluctant
To separate.
Usually, only sleep
Casually divides them--
Wait, and they fuse again
Confused by dream-space.
________
She reads his mind,
Brailing the sure heft,
The extent of his body.
Considered kisses
Are soft as cotton;
She can ignite them
Like matchsticks.
Then coolly watch:
They’ll burn slo-mo
All the way down,
Kiss her fingertips.
Cocooned by breath
Shaped like a kiss,
Think--the perfect color
Should be called 'Kiss,'
Would stick irresistibly
And ever so lightly
As if reluctant
To separate.
Usually, only sleep
Casually divides them--
Wait, and they fuse again
Confused by dream-space.
________
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