Americans need to PLANT THEIR FEET RIGHT BACK IN THE COUNTRY THAT THEIR FOREFATHERS FOUGHT AND DIED FOR. Their task was epic in ridding the country of the money changers (international Satanic central bankers) and carrying Humanity forward as both the new Israel and Islam in the UNIVERSAL IDEALS that both freed and progressed us as a FAMILY OF MAN. The romantic stuff is not going to get us anywhere in these END TIMES. Take up the sword and fight like hell:
A pensive narrative for the morning here in Malaysia. Yet its touch of Paradise Lost triggered a chain of nostalgic memories of India, which I left 42 years ago. The past is the only dependable anchor in one's life. For all its missteps, regrets and sorrows, it is a rock in the turbulent seas of the present.
Indeed, a very long time. But here's the thing, Kevin. The few times I went back to look up familiar haunts on my periodic visits to India, I was deeply disappointed. Nothing was the way I remembered. People, places, landmarks, even the street lingo had changed so much as to make me feel a stranger in my own homeland. I swore never to attempt a physical resurrection of the ghosts of my past. The past is best left in our frozen memories, treasured like a rare first edition of a classic, not to be dusted off and brought into the harsh glare of the present. Life is a one way street after all.
It looks like a miniature watermelon, but it's actually a gherkin. It's a bit like a cross between a cucumber and a zucchini, but small and kind of spicy. It's good when lightly stir-fried.
I grew up in 1950s and 1960s America, which was much different from what it is like today. No one really thought about god and country back then as it just was...
Today, everything is under assault from one direction or the other.
I have wanted to leave the country for a very long time. I knew in 1985 that America was going into decline under the Reagan Administration. There was a science-fiction book out called "NYPD 2025", which I read. Not very well; written but so prophetic of our America even then.
The book described a fallen nation in which a small unit of dedicated police officers were still trying to implement a decent form of law and order. Called "COP" or the "Combat Operations Police", these police officers attempted to stop the very crimes we are all witnessing so often now.
I had hopes of moving to Austria as my wife and I used to travel there regularly for over 20 years. But on our last trip in 2014, I saw that everything I had fallen in love with in that country for was completely gone.
There was this wonderful, little Italian place we would always go called "Pizza Haus". It wasn't a fast-food place or anything like that. In fact, Vienna had few such places until more recently.
However, "Pizza Haus" was a very quite little cafe that had great pasta and salads along with their terrific pizza.
On our last trip we once again went up Mariahilfestrasse to "Pizza Haus" and found it all boarded up.
I knew then that my beautiful Austria had completely disappeared...
Another place we frequented once a very old Kaffehaus. It had been there since the the turn of the 19th century to the 20th. I actually had a picture of its area during WWI where it was bombed with Italian prose. Back then the Italian Air Force would never allow for the bombing of a civilian center. So a very popular Italian poet who had made his way into the aviation section of the Italian Armed Forces wrote poetry and dropped it over Austria cities and towns.
This wonderful little dive with a very large clientele disappeared in 2013. It was a mainstay of Viennese life during the lunch and dinner hours. During the warm months sores of people would sit at its outside tables.
What replaced this somewhat historical landmark was a wine-bar that I never saw populated.
Many people our age want to return to those years when things were better hidden and the world wasn't constantly ready to blow itself up.
Maybe if so many of our military analysts who spend time pontificating about the dangers our country pose and instead put their time into organizing their contacts and colleagues to come together to take down this horrific excuse for a government, we could return just a little to this bygone era.
But until then, we simply have to sit back and watch the show...
When you mentioned Cormick McCarthy, I had never heard of him, although I had heard of the book "Blood meridian." So I went out and got copies of eight or nine of his books and read them all in a week or two.
"no Country for Old Men" is my favorite, especially the scene outside the motel, where the old man and the girl are suddenly gunned down by a hit man. As the reader, i became attached to these two characters and was shocked and saddened by their demise.
I'll never forget this passage. The sense of total and final loss. Reminds me of Gaza in a not so strange way.
“Once there were brook trout in the streams in the mountains. You could see them standing in the amber current where the white edges of their fins wimpled softly in the flow. They smelled of moss in your hand. Polished and muscular and torsional. On their backs were vermiculate patterns that were maps of the world in its becoming. Maps and mazes. Of a thing which could not be put back. Not be made right again. In the deep glens where they lived all things were older than man and they hummed of mystery.”
Loved learning more details about your personal history and journey and how that relates to your favorite exilic writers!
Thanks, Amy. I appreciate your appreciation!
Beautiful piece, Kevin.
Americans need to PLANT THEIR FEET RIGHT BACK IN THE COUNTRY THAT THEIR FOREFATHERS FOUGHT AND DIED FOR. Their task was epic in ridding the country of the money changers (international Satanic central bankers) and carrying Humanity forward as both the new Israel and Islam in the UNIVERSAL IDEALS that both freed and progressed us as a FAMILY OF MAN. The romantic stuff is not going to get us anywhere in these END TIMES. Take up the sword and fight like hell:
http://thespiritualun.org/Oneness&CommonEnemy.htm
A pensive narrative for the morning here in Malaysia. Yet its touch of Paradise Lost triggered a chain of nostalgic memories of India, which I left 42 years ago. The past is the only dependable anchor in one's life. For all its missteps, regrets and sorrows, it is a rock in the turbulent seas of the present.
Good point. I think Moroccans have a stronger and healthier connection to their past than Americans do.
42 years away from home is a long time!
Indeed, a very long time. But here's the thing, Kevin. The few times I went back to look up familiar haunts on my periodic visits to India, I was deeply disappointed. Nothing was the way I remembered. People, places, landmarks, even the street lingo had changed so much as to make me feel a stranger in my own homeland. I swore never to attempt a physical resurrection of the ghosts of my past. The past is best left in our frozen memories, treasured like a rare first edition of a classic, not to be dusted off and brought into the harsh glare of the present. Life is a one way street after all.
Isnt that a watermelon?
It looks like a miniature watermelon, but it's actually a gherkin. It's a bit like a cross between a cucumber and a zucchini, but small and kind of spicy. It's good when lightly stir-fried.
Hi Kevin...
Such a sad piece but I understand it well...
I grew up in 1950s and 1960s America, which was much different from what it is like today. No one really thought about god and country back then as it just was...
Today, everything is under assault from one direction or the other.
I have wanted to leave the country for a very long time. I knew in 1985 that America was going into decline under the Reagan Administration. There was a science-fiction book out called "NYPD 2025", which I read. Not very well; written but so prophetic of our America even then.
The book described a fallen nation in which a small unit of dedicated police officers were still trying to implement a decent form of law and order. Called "COP" or the "Combat Operations Police", these police officers attempted to stop the very crimes we are all witnessing so often now.
I had hopes of moving to Austria as my wife and I used to travel there regularly for over 20 years. But on our last trip in 2014, I saw that everything I had fallen in love with in that country for was completely gone.
There was this wonderful, little Italian place we would always go called "Pizza Haus". It wasn't a fast-food place or anything like that. In fact, Vienna had few such places until more recently.
However, "Pizza Haus" was a very quite little cafe that had great pasta and salads along with their terrific pizza.
On our last trip we once again went up Mariahilfestrasse to "Pizza Haus" and found it all boarded up.
I knew then that my beautiful Austria had completely disappeared...
Another place we frequented once a very old Kaffehaus. It had been there since the the turn of the 19th century to the 20th. I actually had a picture of its area during WWI where it was bombed with Italian prose. Back then the Italian Air Force would never allow for the bombing of a civilian center. So a very popular Italian poet who had made his way into the aviation section of the Italian Armed Forces wrote poetry and dropped it over Austria cities and towns.
This wonderful little dive with a very large clientele disappeared in 2013. It was a mainstay of Viennese life during the lunch and dinner hours. During the warm months sores of people would sit at its outside tables.
What replaced this somewhat historical landmark was a wine-bar that I never saw populated.
Many people our age want to return to those years when things were better hidden and the world wasn't constantly ready to blow itself up.
Maybe if so many of our military analysts who spend time pontificating about the dangers our country pose and instead put their time into organizing their contacts and colleagues to come together to take down this horrific excuse for a government, we could return just a little to this bygone era.
But until then, we simply have to sit back and watch the show...
Thank you Kevin for the inside look. Morroco sounds
uncomplicatingly inviting.
I forgot to mention, I hear the Morocco desert is the best place to grow olives in the world, or at least it grows the best olives for olive oil.
When you mentioned Cormick McCarthy, I had never heard of him, although I had heard of the book "Blood meridian." So I went out and got copies of eight or nine of his books and read them all in a week or two.
"no Country for Old Men" is my favorite, especially the scene outside the motel, where the old man and the girl are suddenly gunned down by a hit man. As the reader, i became attached to these two characters and was shocked and saddened by their demise.
That was my first McCarthy book. The Coen Bros. film is pretty good too. It's one of the rare movies that's almost as good as the book.
I'll never forget this passage. The sense of total and final loss. Reminds me of Gaza in a not so strange way.
“Once there were brook trout in the streams in the mountains. You could see them standing in the amber current where the white edges of their fins wimpled softly in the flow. They smelled of moss in your hand. Polished and muscular and torsional. On their backs were vermiculate patterns that were maps of the world in its becoming. Maps and mazes. Of a thing which could not be put back. Not be made right again. In the deep glens where they lived all things were older than man and they hummed of mystery.”
The Road too. Viggo was brilliant
Thank you so much for your today's post which I enjoyed very much !!👍👍💪💪😎😎
Most probably you also have some bathroom(s) finished with the century's old Moroccan technique called tadelact (تدلكت)
’May you & your wife enjoy lots of other "مكتوب" in the future !!
A Remembrance of Things Past is a tough act to follow but you just did it-