Done With All Things

*



I am done with all things, I give it unto you.'
So he flung the bread and the strips of
bacon among the beggars, and they fought
with many cries until the last scrap was
eaten. But meanwhile the friars nailed the
glee man to his cross, and set it upright in
the hole, and shovel led the earth in at the
foot, and trampled it level and hard. So
then they went away, but the beggars stared
on, sitting round the cross. But when the
sun was sinking, they also got up to go, for
the air was getting chilly. And as soon as
they had gone a little way, the wolves, who
had been showing themselves on the edge
of a neighbouring coppice, came nearer,
and the birds wheeled closer and closer.

'Stay, outcasts, yet a little while,' the cruc-
ified one called in a weak voice to the beg-
gars, 'and keep the beasts and the birds
from me.' But the beggars were angry
because he had called them outcasts, so
they threw stones and mud at him, and
went their way. Then the wolves gathered
at the foot of the cross, and the birds flew
lower and lower. And presently the birds
lighted all at once upon his head and arms
and shoulders, and began to peck at him,
and the wolves began to eat his feet. 'Out-
casts,' he moaned, 'have you also turned
against the outcast?'
WB Yeats

When you are old and grey and full of sleep,
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;
How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true,
But one man loved the pilgrim Soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face;
And bending down beside the glowing bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled
And paced upon the mountains overhead
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.
WB Yeats

Hope and Memory have one daughter and her name is Art, and she has built her dwelling far from the desperate field where men hang out their garments upon forked boughs to be banners of battle. O beloved daughter of Hope and Memory, be with me for a little.
From Yeats last poem.



Oh how did it get to this, where the only rational response was retreat into fantasy, where cruel bureaucrats and unfeeling politicians created havoc, and no one cared, no one spoke out, no one belled the cat? It had become an impossible place to reside. We were caught in unfeeling arms, dreams peopled by drooling savants, savage days, cold light, cruel nights. We could only praise the memory of another era, look back on a time when men spoke out for men, when the simpering betrayals were not absolute. Creeping, crawling, they plundered in their careless way, they savagely imposed their beliefs and sneered whole heartedly at those who dared to disagree.

All was lost, lost, when a savage day sloped towards Bethlehem, when cries of discontent were not ignored, when people genuinely did care for the working class. Now it had all become idealised, and most of them wouldn't have known what a day's work consisted of. He was saddened by the discontent permeating every wall and flower. Twenty three hundred people a week cross the border fleeing into Queensland, Richard said last night. When I made the decision to go I thought I was the only one, but every one's going.

Sydney has become impossible, he replied. The traffic, the chaos, the parking, the stress, the corruption. Corruption is everywhere, Trevor said, laughing at the memory of white shoe gangs, the Gold Coast spivs. Every one's leaving, I chimed in. It's not just that the government is so hopeless and horrible. It's the living things. The rents, the mortgages. The struggle just to survive. No one can make ends meet any more. It's just become impossible. People are sitting in these endless traffic queues to get to work, jammed for hours, paying massive fees on the toll ways, nothing adds up, they just can't survive.

We all agreed, there in the winter night in the heart of Redfern, here where the scummy asphalt lined roads intersect with the mysterious cross hatched networks of terrace lined streets, here where every thing comes to us and the heartless city encircles us. Could we be free, could we make our own darkness last? he asked. And of everything he had conceived, it was now escape that made the most sense. Every letter is bad news, a bill, harassment. Nothing comforts us. Nothing says I'm sorry, I've made your life hell.

They're talking now about the failure of the Rudd government: the test of a good government is whether or not it's made the lives of ordinary people better. And on that he has completely failed. More disasters are to come, as the left feeds on its own successes. They talked of transparency and accountability, of open government, but it was all nothing but words. They are as secretive and as unaccountable as any government we have ever seen. They are cruel and indifferent to the consequences of their own theory; and us mere plebs just get in the way of their grand ideas, their emoting over the country's "most vulnerable".

Facts haven't met theory for a long time, there isn't a plague of domestic violence like they tell us there is, there isn't an obesity crisis, the planet is not warming, women don't get paid less for doing the same jobs, but all of these lies are peddled at us every day; and no one cares. The obscene difficulty of living in this city has made much and many of our lives impossible, and cruel heart, cruel indifference, nobody cares. Richard's leaving to start a new life. His "babe" and their five kids have already gone, are already settling into the Sunshine Coast. It was his last night and we could feel the prickly gloss of the divine, poking into our consciousness. The walls glistened and the sky echoed.

And we said our quiet farewells. I don't ever want to come back to Sydney, he declared. I don't ever want to see it again. We're left here, slowly dying, and the darkness of the city has enveloped our souls. Think of the power behind you, not the power in front, he said. And all crawled into blackness of the night, all crawled away from the cruel tentacles of the state, all was savaged in darkness and in glory, and all was cruel and vacant. This was the city the socialists had created; they had no soul, only the sleazy convictions of their own pack mentality. There was no safe space, not here. And all was lost, in darkness and in chaos.



THE BIGGER STORY:

http://afp.google.com/article/ALeqM5gxvUh_AgnZN7SZ1U7PplUvo_HVHA

HARARE (AFP) — Robert Mugabe awaited Saturday confirmation of victory in Zimbabwe's one-man election and prepared for a rapid inauguration as US President George W. Bush ordered new sanctions against the Harare regime.

Although officials had still to declare results from the 210 constituencies, counting had been completed and the tallies were being collated.

"After the closing of polling stations yesterday (Friday), presiding officers started counting. That process has been completed," Utloile Silaigwana, a spokesman for the Zimbabwe Electoral Commission, told reporters.

Mugabe is certain of a landslide victory after opposition leader and first round winner Morgan Tsvangirai boycotted Friday's run-off poll.

While Zimbabwe had to wait five weeks for the results in the first round on March 29, government sources said 84-year-old Mugabe was expected to be inaugurated on Sunday before flying off to an African Union summit in Egypt.

"The inauguration is tomorrow at 10 am (0800 GMT)," said one source close to Mugabe.

A visitor to State House, his official residence, said tents were being set up for the ceremony which will mark the start of his sixth term.
http://www.nytimes.com/2008/06/28/us/politics/28unity.html?ei=5087&em=&en=300f861c599783f1&ex=1214798400&adxnnl=1&adxnnlx=1214686013-PJ7UrHdMKbsS7sAiMaby3w

UNITY, N.H. — Senators Barack Obama and Hillary Rodham Clinton set off on their maiden political voyage on Friday, trading their rivalry from the presidential primary battle for a newfound display of harmony intended to set a fresh tone for any Democrats still harboring bitterness from their grueling duel.

It was a day of choreographed unity — their destination was a rally here in this small western New Hampshire town — with the two senators appearing together before the cameras for the first time. Three weeks after suspending her campaign, Mrs. Clinton renewed her endorsement and pledged to do all she could to help Democrats win the White House in the fall.

“Unity is not only a beautiful place, it’s a wonderful feeling, isn’t it?” Mrs. Clinton said. “I know what we start here in this field of unity will end on the steps of the Capitol when Barack Obama takes the oath of office.”

Mr. Obama and Mrs. Clinton strode onto an outdoor stage here, arm-in-arm, waving to a friendly crowd. Their messages complemented one another, as did his blue tie and her blue pantsuit.

“For sixteen months, Senator Clinton and I have shared the stage as rivals,” Mr. Obama said. “But today, I couldn’t be happier and more honored that we’re sharing it as allies in the effort to bring this country a new and better day.”

http://www.news.com.au/entertainment/story/0,26278,23937923-5013560,00.html

THE Bahamas has been declared a no-fly zone over Greg Norman's $2million wedding today as part of a security crackdown to protect the VIP guest list.

Norman has virtually taken over the small Commonwealth country for his lavish nuptials with tennis great Chris Evert, renting an entire island and enlisting the Bahamas police force to ensure intruders and the press stayed away.

With guests including former US presidents George Bush Sr and Bill Clinton, authorities on Friday granted a request to ban aircraft from flying over Paradise Island where the wedding was to take place.

Clinton is a long-time friend of Norman and Bush is a friend of Evert, having regularly played in her annual charity tennis tournament in Florida.

Secret service teams assembled on the island and on Friday the resort's private beach was swarming with uniformed police and security officers.