CULTIVATING LIBERALISM
FOR ALL CLIMATES
SINCE 1759
 
Google
 

Free daily alert to Candide's Notebooks
Your email:

By Feedburner (more versatile)
By The Notebooks
(quicker)

Daily Bloggerback
Best of Blogs Round-Up: Friday, February 10

Non-disclaimer: We're liberal to the core, but we include in this daily blog review the political, the social, the cultural and the undefinable from the left, the right, the in-between from all over the globe. And we're suckers for good writing regardless of ideology. Clicking the link will take you to the original post.

Featured Blog I: Cedar Query
What Is and Isn't Lebanese?

It's been a year now, since Lebanon has brandished headline news on American newspapers. Today, as I grabbed the "Express" (a shortened version of the Washington Post), I saw a picture of a protester with the Shahadatan banded around his forehead and the familiar Tabaris building burning behind him. What happened yesterday was at best surreal. An event of hatred that was uncalled for. It's as if the hands of those who want to break Lebanon are itching for yet another plot to break us, break our will of living free, free of hate, fear, and death. It's been a year, a year of tests, one after the other...but how much can the Lebanese take. The anger I saw on the faces of the Achrafieh residents made me realize that patience has limits...and I cannot blame them. Whether in Tripoli or the South, there are hundreds of churches and mazars, never thrown stones at, never ravaged in such a way. Why this time around? Why are Tripolitans driving all the way to Beirut, to throw stones at cars in a Christian neighborhood? Read the rest at The Lebanese Bloggers...

 

Featured Blogger II: Between Counterculture and Consensus
Focus and Fellowship Along with the Fire

Occasional essays here over the past month and a half have pointed the way to the need for the kind of fire and spirit that drive a sustained countercultural movement, a path of resistance to the large cultural currents that are swallowing us up. In many ways, we do need to swim against the tide that carries other people along, and the community of Bumpers is, in many ways, devoted to furthering a way of life that counters what other people (especially in places of entrenched power and leverage) are doing. After all, if "WE" are all on our own, that means "THEY" are causing us to be all on our own. There is an inevitable awareness of segregation that comes from apprehending the reality of the world today, and moreover, there is--to a certain extent and in a very particular sense--a need to further this segregation by making our lives different from "THEIRS." Ah, but in these troubling and overwhelmingly complex times, there must be balance in all things, and so today, one must make a plea for consensus-building, for making a connection in which "WE" can meet "THEM" halfway. I had a post-Super Bowl commentary in mind--not the football kind, but the sociological kind--on Monday. I was ready to comment on the absurdity Detroit experienced amidst its staging of the Big Game: tens of thousands of homeless people living but five minutes from jaw-droppingly lavish and bacchanalian bashes involving crowds whose collective net wealth--from their possessions to their clothing to their contracts to the food and drink they consumed--had to be in the billions, if not the TENS of billions. But the gulf that existed in Detroit last week--and which demanded exposure--was a gulf whose sickening width suddenly seemed to pale in comparison to the breach that was revealed not just between Western Europe and the extremist (not authentically) Muslim world, but between Scandinavian Europe, that seemingly most sensitive of places, and a community that responded to a caricature of violence with.... what else?.... violence. Read the rest at Just a Bump in the Beltway...

 


 


THE DAILY JOURNAL VANPOEM
 

As One Put Naked Into a Cigarette Boat

Continue chiding, since it's part of the new aesthetic,
and parcel to our coming home, as if
we'd disappeared into the burning bush
that calls to those who sit vacantly in parlors
awaiting a fate freighted with song and dance.
I stroll while staring and raging
with difficulty at the stubborn sky.

On my honor I step a little distance
from behind the curtain, only to disappear
the moment no birds sing, which occurs frequently.
Leaves dustier than furniture, the sound
of sleeping grating through the cosmos,
my footstool, my only talisman.
It's been real, arguing on your behalf.
Gray cobweb shadow, falling, floundering,
finding a place to not be shy and think
boldly about the oldness of beauty, a place
to rest its weary insubstantial head.

It may be that I stand on the threshold
of the checkout line, unsure of what
to be impulsive about, which momentous emptiness
to spontaneously identify my alienation with,
what kind of languor to slide into

before being reduced to grubbing for credentials,
locked in that tumid late-afternoon skin,
effervescing in its sea of dreams.
And all the things hearkening back to it,
the boat ride to breaker beach
there at the end of one world
where it paid to rage at the stammering waves
that kicked and screamed solely for my benefit,
staged objections to the inexorable fact of me.

Look: I've installed a turnstile in my kitchen,
so your picture-postcard of desolation has no power over me.
In this doggy-dog world land is made motionless
and the broads are standing on the wharves
with some of that sipping whisky on those silver trays,
which we'd be a bear to pass up. You speak
of the old gods who've washed up on shore,
but I don't see them, don't hear their hue and cry,
though their maze awaits us, will amaze us.
Here, let me get this little rock out of my damn shoe.
Then we can talk about paddling off to parts unknown.

 
Van Foreman
 
 

 


 

Read Pierre’s Latest at


 
The Latest Comments
 

In The Notebooks:
The Latest

Featured Essays:



GOOGLE GOOGLE NEW YORK TIMES NEWSPAPERS NETFLIX UK INDEPENDENT NETFLIX
  
Add to Google Reader or Homepage Subscribe in NewsGator Online Subscribe in Rojo   Add to My AOL Subscribe in FeedLounge Add to netvibes Subscribe in Bloglines Add to The Free Dictionary