Far be it for me to say, but word on the street is John had better take Jim Carrey with him because Jim is freaking out on Twitter.

I apologize for that digression. I often post while I think, and that was the case with the previous meanderings.

For the last day of poetry month I’m going with this timely piece by Langston Hughes.

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 white, fooled and pushed apart,
I am the Negro bearing slavery’s scars.
I am the red man driven from the land,
I am the immigrant clutching the hope I seek–
And finding only the same old stupid plan
Of dog eat dog, of mighty crush the weak.

I am the young man, full of strength and hope,
Tangled in that ancient endless chain
Of profit, power, gain, of grab the land!
Of grab the gold! Of grab the ways of satisfying need!
Of work the men! Of take the pay!
Of owning everything for one’s own greed!

I am the farmer, bondsman to the soil.
I am the worker sold to the machine.
I am the Negro, servant to you all.
I am the people, humble, hungry, mean–
Hungry yet today despite the dream.
Beaten yet today–O, Pioneers!
I am the man who never got ahead,
The poorest worker bartered through the years.

Yet I’m the one who dreamt our basic dream
In the Old World while still a serf of kings,
Who dreamt a dream so strong, so brave, so true,
That even yet its mighty daring sings
In every brick and stone, in every furrow turned
That’s made America the land it has become.
O, I’m the man who sailed those early seas
In search of what I meant to be my home–
For I’m the one who left dark Ireland’s shore,
And Poland’s plain, and England’s grassy lea,
And torn from Black Africa’s strand I came
To build a “homeland of the free.”

The free?

Who said the free? Not me?
Surely not me? The millions on relief today?
The millions shot down when we strike?
The millions who have nothing for our pay?
For all the dreams we’ve dreamed
And all the songs we’ve sung
And all the hopes we’ve held
And all the flags we’ve hung,
The millions who have nothing for our pay–
Except the dream that’s almost dead today.

O, let America be America again–
The land that never has been yet–
And yet must be–the land where every man is free.
The land that’s mine–the poor man’s, Indian’s, Negro’s, ME–
Who made America,
Whose sweat and blood, whose faith and pain,
Whose hand at the foundry, whose plow in the rain,
Must bring back our mighty dream again.

Sure, call me any ugly name you choose–
The steel of freedom does not stain.
From those who live like leeches on the people’s lives,
We must take back our land again,
America!

O, yes,
I say it plain,
America never was America to me,
And yet I swear this oath–
America will be!

Out of the rack and ruin of our gangster death,
The rape and rot of graft, and stealth, and lies,
We, the people, must redeem
The land, the mines, the plants, the rivers.
The mountains and the endless plain–
All, all the stretch of these great green states–
And make America again!

peace

Infinite Jest:

This is for anyone considering an attempt at this gargantuan novel. With more characters on the first two pages than in the last ten books I’ve read, this is novel of a future dystopia (or five future dystopias, it’s hard to tell at p. 120, but I fear the worse) that only a genius who has forgotten to take his Adderall could have written. Reading Infinite Jest has made me realize it may have been a mistake not to have taken up a friend’s invitation to check out the Tibetan Meditation Center situated the mountains not far from here. I was not completely unprepared, having resumed my Yoga classes in May, but be forewarned, reading this book requires the taking or doing of something to sedate thoughts and mollify the spirit. No getting through it otherwise.

The neither here nor there:

There is much we should know, and even more we should be spared. Sanford Calls Mistress His ‘Soul Mate’, and anything written after such a title, is in the later category.

I’m one of those non twittering twitterers. Most of my life occurs offline, and I prefer it that way. I’ve never really felt the need to twitter, but when a bandwagon full of such a diverse variety of virtual humanity called I was more than willing to jump on it for a short test ride. I got off quickly the first time, but jumped on once more when the wagon got larger. It’s still too difficult to manage to fit into my real life, but this twitter for busy people might be just the thing to help with that problem.

Check out the new theme and post your complaints. You can open the menu and the footer with the tabs at the top right and bottom left. Let me know if you prefer them permanently open, as that can be managed. I can also remove all the posts from the first page and make it just as a regular blog, though those who read me from their reader won’t really be affected by this. I aim to please. Especially on Tuesdays.

Peace

Judge Judy? Just because I asked them if they were going to do what I sat around waiting for them to do yesterday? The fixer was a cool though. He fixed my windshield in record time.

On to Iran:

I tend to look at this whole thing, twitter thing, a little differently than most people I suppose. I was pleased to find this via twitter this afternoon. America’s Iranian Twitter Revolution. Some valid points, worth reading.

It was a little annoying to see some of the tweets about this potential revolution. Why? Because I got the impression, after following some of the links to the twit’s blogs, that the bloggers (not all but a majority) appeared to know little if anything about Iran, except possibly where it is, that we don’t want them to have nuclear weapons because they were Islamic terrorists out to nuke Israel and us off the face of the earth. It also boggles my mind, with health care and education, not to mention the economy, in such a state, that unless it’s a revolution in some far away place, something we really shouldn’t have anything to do with ( except publish as many of the photos and real Iranian tweets as possible), it’s not twit worthy. Unlike the major media, who don’t cover health care and education because those that work for major media have both, twitterer’s tend to jump on whatever comes their way as long as it’s easy and takes only a click of a finger or two, making far off revolutions enticing and anything else unlikely.

Be that as it may I found that some of the bloggers, those with no previous knowledge of Iran, it’s history or our policy history with Iran, had over the last week educated themselves, one going far back into ancient history and then going forward, if in a cursory manner, and that really is not a bad thing. Not a bad thing at all.

For now there is some decent coverage from the major media NYT and BBC, and bless Andrew Sullivan’s little heart, he is really in to this.

Doug is waxing poetic on this in Spoiling the saga .
And my god I think Pia is on twitter. I now have to find her.

Shirin Ebadi is going to town. Here are a few links, if you haven’t read them already.

An interesting interview with Shirin Ebadi in may of 2006

Shirin Ebadi agrees with Obama

Iran’s Human Rights Activists Being Arrested, Nobel Prize Winner Tells NPR

Void the Elections or Risk Violence

We may be innovative, but they are brave.