Youth, Day, Old Age and Night

…from the quills of the dead white poets

Walt Whitman (1819 – 1892)


Youth, large, lusty, loving – youth full of grace, force, fascination,

Do you know that Old Age may come after you with equal grace, force, fascination?

Day full-blown and splendid –

day of immense sun, action, ambition, laughter,

The Night follows close with millions of suns, and sleep and restoring darkness.

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Unstoppable decline

…from the quill of Antisthenes the Younger

My ignorance of television programmes notwithstanding, I could not avoid noticing undoubtedly newsworthy spat between the two female political analysts arguing about their respective blouses. Perhaps they were finally able to talk about subjects they possibly know something about. Perhaps they are both naturally blowzy and, I guess, not plying their trade on ABC which undoubtedly has a strict dress code for its comrades, just as it has a code for their opinions. (Correct me if you know the true facts as told to you by your ABC. )

Stupid as the whole kerfuffle is, the Whitlamjugend running the Australian media considered it worth of broadcasting time, assuming the public to be on their intellectual level. Pickering’s cartoon is not funny, it is sad:


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The Left’s Clarion Call


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…from the quills of the dead white poets

Karel Toman (18771946)czech_flag_small

Šla do Betléma rovná cesta,

zářila hvězda, všechno bylo prosté.

A za nábožných písní

sny otců našich věčně putovaly

po starém mostě.

Byl, nebyl Betlém?

Však na tom mostě rozmaryna roste

a poutníčkové věrní tiše obrátí se,

když místo

čeládku chlévní najdou.

A vracejí se domů s vírou,

že za rok hvězda stane jistě nad Betlémem

a ta již neoklame.

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Something to worry about

That is, if you are, or aspire to be, a member of the ruling class.

media.declineI doubt that the mainstream media managed to reverse the trend in the last two years. No wonder they want to control/castrate the internet.


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When I heard the Learn’d Astronomer

…from the quills of the dead white poets

Walt Whitman (1819 – 1892)

When I heard the learn’d astronomer,

When the proofs, the figures, were ranged in columns before me,

When I was shown the charts and diagrams, to add, divide, and measure them,

When I sitting heard the astronomer where he lectured with much applause in the lecture-room,

How soon unaccountable I became tired and sick,

Till rising and gliding out I wander’d off by myself,

Picture saved with settings embedded.

In the mystical moist night-air, and from time to time,

Look’d up in perfect silence at the stars.

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If Obama had four more children…


For people who missed this on their ABC – Main Stream Media

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See – nothing to worry about

…in the long run.


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The White Man’s Burden 1899

from the quills of dead white poets

Rudyard Kipling ( 1865 – 1936)

Take up the White man's burden --
  Send forth the best ye breed --
Go bind your sons to exile
  To serve your captives' need;
To wait in heavy harness
  On fluttered folk and wild --
Your new-caught, sullen peoples,
  Half devil and half child.

Take up the White Man's burden --
  In patience to abide,
To veil the threat of terror
  And check the show of pride;
By open speech and simple,
  An hundred times mad plain.
To seek another's profit,
  And work another's gain.

Take up the White Man's burden --
  The savage wars of peace --
Fill full the mouth of Famine
  And bid the sickness cease;
And when your goal is nearest
  The end for others sought,
Watch Sloth and heathen Folly
  Bring all your hope to nought.

Take up the White Man's burden --
  No tawdry rule of kings,
But toil of serf and sweeper --
  The tale of common things.
The ports ye shall not enter,
  The roads ye shall not tread,
Go make them with your living,
  And mark them with your dead!

Take up the White man's burden --
  And reap his old reward:
The blame of those ye better,
  The hate of those ye guard --
The cry of hosts ye humour
  (Ah, slowly!) toward the light: --
"Why brought ye us from bondage,
  "Our loved Egyptian night?"

Take up the White Man's burden --
  Ye dare not stoop to less --
Nor call too loud on freedom
  To cloak your weariness;
By all ye cry or whisper,
  By all ye leave or do,
The silent, sullen peoples
  Shall weigh your Gods and you.

Take up the White Man's burden --
  Have done with childish days --
The lightly proffered laurel,
  The easy, ungrudged praise.
Comes now, to search your manhood
  Through all the thankless years,
Cold-edged with dear-bought wisdom,
  The judgment of your peers!

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Twenty days to shake the world

…from the quill of Antisthenes the Younger

Only twenty days remains for the current occupier of the White House to destroy what he has not managed to destroy so far. In a decade or so the Americans left, if any, will wonder what possessed them to vote for such an immature hypocrite (twice!) The enemies of freedom everywhere already celebrate. Who would have thought that in 2017 a Russian dictator would look, beside Barack Hussein Obama, honest and reasonable.


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The Holy War 1917

…from the quills of the dead white poets

Rudyard Kipling (1865 – 1936)

For here lay the excellent wisdom of him that built Mansoul, that the
walls could never be broken down nor hurt by the most mighty adverse
potentate unless the townsmen gave consent thereto.” — BUNYAN’S Holy War.

A tinker out of Bedford,
A vagrant oft in quod,
A private under Fairfax,
A minister of God--

Two hundred years and thirty
  Ere Armageddon came
His single hand portrayed it,
  And Bunyan was his name!

He mapped for those who follow,
  The world in which we are--
"This famous town of Mansoul"
  That takes the Holy War.
Her true and traitor people,
  The Gates along her wall,
From Eye Gate unto Feel Gate,
  John Bunyan showed them all.

All enemy divisions,
  Recruits of every class,
And highly-screened positions
  For flame or poison-gas;
The craft that we call modern,
  The crimes that we call new,
John Bunyan had 'em typed and filed
  In Sixteen Eighty-two.

Likewise the Lords of Looseness
  That hamper faith and works,
The Perseverance-Doubters,
  And Present-Comfort shirks,
With brittle intellectuals
  Who crack beneath a strain--
John Bunyan met that helpful set
  In Charles the Second's reign.

Emmanuel's vanguard dying
  For right and not for rights,
My Lord Apollyon lying
  To the State-kept Stockholmites,
The Pope,  the swithering Neutrals
  The Kaiser and his Gott--
Their roles, their goals, their naked souls--
  He knew and drew the lot.

Now he hath left his quarters,
  In Bunhill Fields to lie,
The wisdom that he taught us
  Is proven prophecy--
One watchword through our Armies,
  One answer from our Lands:--
"No dealings with Diabolus
  As long as Mansoul stands!"

A pedlar from a hovel,
  The lowest of the low --
The Father of the Novel,
  Salvation's first Defoe,
Eight blinded generations
  Ere Armageddon came,
He showed us how to meet it,
  And Bunyan was his name!
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No hope for Australia

…from the quill of Antisthenes the Younger


The survey may be yet another piece of false news manufactured by the main stream media, attempting to show that they are not so irrelevant as reality indicates. In the tolerant Christmas spirit let’s assume that it is about right. Still – Finland 65% ! Could this be the answer? Finland’s unacknowledged problem.

That so many (43%) Australians believe the media is sad. Declining intelligence in general? Dumbing down of the nation by our uneducational system? Young people’s herd, lemming like mentality? Perhaps it is the fault of post-modern education which, so I understand, encourages barely-formed minds to have views instead of concentrating on absorbing building blocks for rational thinking.” [A fog of generalised imbecility.]

Or three monkeys syndrome? With sec 18C hanging over the head of anyone tempted to think and express his thoughts it would be safer. Despite the myths, Australians are very docile.

Perhaps Australian addiction to the opium of the masses, i.e. spectators’ sports is to blame? However dishonest and biased the sports’ commentators may be they are unlikely to get away with claiming that Cronulla Sharks won and not Collingwood Magpies. Their political colleagues can keep reporting that, e.g. Hillary Clinton won US Presidential election, with impunity. People reading/listening/watching commercial sports only, may not have a reason to suspect the media’s untrustworthiness, and thus could sway the survey result.

For whatever reason – poor fellow, my country.


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Farcical Left




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Some of our readers may have noticed greater than usual irregularities in F/Chaos posts. And, as usual, we have a truthful excuse – the computer technical one. We do not blame Putin’s or Soros’ goons hacking; not even NSA. If we were to point a finger, it would be in the direction of China, specifically its workmanship, designed obsolescence and “quality control”. This is not “false news” – we are not that big yet.

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21st December, 1958 : General Charles de Gaulle, France’s Prime Minister was today elected the first President of the Fifth Republic by a huge majority. His support was especially strong in French overseas possessions, where Communist and Radical-Socialists candidates failed in many places to get a single vote. De Gaulle supports the entrance of Britain into the Common Market to offset West Germany’s growing power. For Algeria, the new President has announced “punitive or repressive measures” against the rebels.

[ A hard act for Marine Le Pen to follow ]marine-le-pen

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Real fight coming to your fake news screens soon

Now it starts. The Electoral College did its duty and so the progies’ gloves are off. People beware! You ain’t seen nothing yet.


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By the waters of Babylon

from the quills of dead white poets

Lord Byron (1788 – 1824)

(From “Hebrew Melodies”)

In the valley of waters we wept on the day
When the host of the Stranger made Salem his prey;
And our heads on our bosoms all droopingly lay,
And our hearts were so full of the land far away!

The song they demanded in vain – it lay still,
In our souls as the wind that hath died in the hill –
They called for the harp – but our blood they shall spill
Ere our right hands shall teach them tone of their skill.

All stringlessly hung in the willow’s sad tree,
As dead as her dead-leaf, those mute harps must be:
Our hands may be fettered – our tears still are free
For our God – and our Glory – and Zion, Oh Thee!


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Čekání na Blanické rytíře


Pavel Jacko

Lidé nevzdělaní, chudí duchem, členové politických stran i jinak znevýhodnění občané se občas sarkasticky ptají: Existuje vůbec něco, co Jára da Cimrman neuměl? Inu, je třeba prokázáno, že Jára da Cimrman nikdy na olympijských hrách neobdržel medaili za krasobruslení. Nactiutrhači se ale tímto faktem dlouho těšit nemohou, neboť vliv Járy da Cimrmana i na tak vzdálenou disciplinu si můžeme snadno ověřit. Mistr totiž vynalezl brusle. Bylo to za jeho pobytu ve Švýcarech, kde si jednoho odpůldne vyšel na Matterhorn a byl na vrcholu zastižen změnou počasí. Náhlý březnový mrazík zastavil tání, pokryl horu ledem a učinil normální sestup nemožným. Jelikož se Jára da Cimrman nechtěl opozdit na lekci aritmetiky, kteréžto lekce dával Bertíkovi Einsteinovi, připravujícímu se na reparát, nechal zamrznout do svých pohorek břitvy, které nosil s sebou v aktovce od té doby, co se naučil holit obouruč. Není známo, jaké tekutiny Mistr použil k upevnění břitev, ale můžeme si být jisti, že problém vyřešil s vynalézavostí sobě vlastní.

pine-tree-snowPřestože stál na bruslích pochopitelně poprvé, sjel Matterhorn víceméně bez nehody. Jen tak mimochodem vynalezl jódlování, když neodhadl správnou výšku smrčku, který obkročmo přejížděl. Ve vesnici pak porazil těžkochápavého Bertíka, který považoval Mistrův zpěv slovanské písně Komu se hora zelená za německý příkaz Kommen Sie hier! Oba přečkali srážku bez úrazu. Zajímavé je, že Bertík pak udělal reparát snadno a jeho prospěch se natolik zlepšil, že opustil rodnou ves a podařilo se mu uchytit se coby poslíček na patentovém úřadě, což také potvrzuje všestranný a blahodárný vliv Járy da Cimrmana.

Tím ovšem dopad jedné Mistrovy vycházky nekončí. Když Mistr příští zimu pořádal v Tyrolích lekce jódlování podle své už tehdy klasické smrčkové metody, vedlo to k dramatickému rozšíření módy nošení kožených kalhot mezi obyčejně konzervativními horaly.

A bylo to také v Tyrolích, kde náhodné setkání a provokativní otázka přivedly Mistra k jinému poli působnosti. Jára da Cimrman byl ubytován v hostinci Erstauführung ve vesnici Bewundernswertbestimung. Nějaká komediantská společnost tam pořádala představení a její principál Sammy Beckett, žárlivý na úctu, které Mistr mezi vesničany požíval, řekl po několika korbelích malvazu, že jódlovat, štěpit atom a vynalézat bumerangy umí leckdo. Že to jsou věci praktické, přízemní, ale že věky přečkává pouze umělecké dílo. Ne každý umí vytesat sochu, namalovat obraz či napsat divadelní hru. Za vrchol lidské originality Sammy Beckett považoval schopnost vymyslet absurdnosti, pokud možno v divadelní hru spojené, neboť na tomto poli pokládal sám sebe za mistra. Jára da Cimrman by jistě neztrácel svůj drahocenný čas jakoukoli reakcí na takové nabubřelé výroky, kdyby právě tu noc lavina nezzavalila Erstauführung až po střechu. A tak se stalo, že Mistr napsal hru „Absurdum na kvadrát“ s podtitulkem „Dialektika“. Původní písemný záznam se bohužel nezachoval. Následující popis některých scén pochází z pamětí hostinského Wilhelma von Tele a hosta, sudetského Němce Krak z Onošic:

Mordýř loupežný vesnici přepadl a obyvatelstvo vyvražďovati počal. Když obyvatelé srotili se a trochu na frak mu dali, blahosklonně oznámil, ž e vesnici osudu svému ponechá. I vesničané z okolí s jásotem zprávu tu přivítali, ne že by chválu pěli na své sousedy, kteří na odpor se postavili a sebe i je od osudu zlého ochránili, ale blahořečili mordýřově moudrosti a laskavosti, vždyť on všechny vyvražditi mohl

Konšelé rozhořčeni byli, když na zasedání městské rady Medvědoff, člověk úskočný a vůdce tlupy rabiátů, navrhl zničení všech kuší kromě těch nejnovějších v zájmu zachování klidu a pokoje ve městě. Z tesáku mu v tu dobu kapala krev jeho souseda, kterému proniczanic hrdlo proříz. Rozhořčení se proměnilo v čin, když konšelé odhlasovali, že přinejmenším po tři dny krámy Medvědoffovi a jeho tlupě chleba neprodají a Medvědoff bude si muset pro nej posílat na druhý konec města. Dohoda o brzké likvidaci zastaralých samostřílů byla pak mezi konšely a tlupou uzavřena v přátelském ovzduší. Bylo dále dohodnuto, že kuše budou ničeny zároveň s luky, šípy, palicemi a tesáky, které měly být zničeny podle smluv předcházejících, ale s technických důvodů nebyly…“

Ve Frantíkově vládne zlý čarodějník, který podobu mnohachapadlové chobotnice má a který chapadly svými obyvatele pevně či méně pevně drží, na život jejich dozírá, smradem svým zemi pokrývá a jinal život ztěžuje. Kde chapadlo se smekne, lidé z dosahu jeho utečou, ale jen co jizvy se jim trochu zahojí a plíce čerstvého vzduchu nalokají, o odpuštění čarodějníka prosí…“

Josefov byl kdysi černým suknem pokryt a občané dodnes pod ním trpí, sukno však nyní slábne, trhá se, díry jasnou oblohu ukazují, ale celé generace dál odevzdaně čekají, až rytíř jakýsi sukno pro ně mečem rozetne…“

Na dalším osudu hry se svědkové nemohou shodnout. Podle Wilhelma se Sammy Járovi da Cimrmanovi omluvil; podle Kraka Sammy naopak tvrdil, že hra absurdní není a ukazuje normální stav věcí světských. Ale to už jsou rozdíly malicherné, dnešnímu čtenáři nic neříkající. Škoda jen, že hra celá se nezachovala, možná, že s odstupem času bychom se problémům jejím zasmáli.

Publikováno v Krajanských listech v březnu 1988

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poseidon-targanulla14th December, 1906 : The Poseidon rush at Tarnagulla, near Bendigo, promises to prove the richest gold field opened in Victoria for many years. Two exceptionally large nuggets were discovered there today. About 3 p.m. T Stephenson and B Williamson picked up a lump of gold weighing 373 ounces. A few minutes later a shout from an adjoining claim announced the discovery of another large piece. With that, S Woodall, one of the party of four, staggered out of his hole with a lump of gold weighing about one cwt. It is over a foot in length and resembles the Welcome Stranger, though it is smaller.

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