Tag: poverty

“Not With A Bang But A Whimper” — The Glamp Of The Saints

“Not With A Bang But A Whimper” — The Glamp Of The Saints

Abrahamic Traditions, activism, autonomy, awareness, bible, bigotry, book review, Challenge, Change, Character of God, Christianity, Church, citizenship, conflict, conservatism, constitution, contemplation, courage, Creation, critical judgment, culture, Current Events, Discernment, election year, Enlightenment, Fascism, Fear, Food, hate, Hospitality, Human Condition, hunger, Ideology, immigration, injustice, Jean Raspail, Minorities, multiculturalism, Nihilism, Pain and Suffering, postmodernism, progressive politics, racism, Refugee's, Religion, resentment, Secularity, T. S. Eliot, The Camp of the Saints, Tolerance, Trump, Uncategorized, violence, Welcoming the other
Glamping ... And when the thousand years are ended, Satan will be released from his prison, and will go out to deceive the nations which are in the four corners of the earth, Gog and Magog, and will gather them together for the battle; the number of whom is as the sand of the sea. And they went up over the breadth of the earth and encompassed the camp of the saints, and the beloved city. -- Revelation chapter 20:7-9a It is unfortunate that the most prescient book ever written about the present mass migration of immigrants from the Third World to the First, especially to the US from Mexico and Central America and to Europe from the Levant, is out of print and therefore unavailable:  Jean Raspail’s eerily prophetic The Camp of the Saints (hereafter Camp).  (The Amazon link says simply t
LET AMERICA BE AMERICA AGAIN, Langston Hughes, Part Two

LET AMERICA BE AMERICA AGAIN, Langston Hughes, Part Two

injustice, poem, Poetry, Poverty
LET AMERICA BE AMERICA AGAIN Let America be America again. Let it be the dream it used to be. Let it be the pioneer on the plain Seeking a home where he himself is free. (America never was America to me.) Let America be the dream the dreamers dreamed— Let it be that great strong land of love Where never kings connive nor tyrants scheme That any man be crushed by one above. (It never was America to me.) O, let my land be a land where Liberty Is crowned with no false patriotic wreath, But opportunity is real, and life is free, Equality is in the air we breathe. (There’s never been equality for me, Nor freedom in this “homeland of the free.”) Say, who are you that mumbles in the dark? And who are you that draws your veil across the stars? I am the poor w
ADVERTISEMENT FOR THE WALDORF HOTEL, Langston Hughes, Part One

ADVERTISEMENT FOR THE WALDORF HOTEL, Langston Hughes, Part One

injustice, poem, Poetry, Poverty
Even as I sorted through books one day - including cookbooks - in preparation for a garage sale to be held before moving into disabled-senior housing, a new cookbook enters. A gift from my son, it's Oscar Tschirky's (1886-1950) recipe collection. Oscar Tschirky was the famous maître d'hôtel at the Waldorf-Astoria, which has some special meaning for me. Occasionally my mom liked to go to the café there for blueberry pancakes. It was as close as she could get to being an elegant respectable lady as the world defines such. The book reminds me of her and the poem that follows. Langston Hughes wrote the poem after walking past the Waldorf during the Great Depression. I've read that it was originally published in New Masses magazine, a long defunct American Marxist publication that was th