Showing posts with label Spells. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Spells. Show all posts

Wednesday 14 June 2017

Fearfulness



" Popular Speech Doesn't Need to Be Defended "
Gov. Jesse "The Body" Ventura

Chaos + Disorder

No one familiar with the history of this country can deny that congressional committees are useful. It is necessary to investigate before legislating, but the line between investigating and persecuting is a very fine one and the junior Senator from Wisconsin has stepped over it repeatedly. 

His primary achievement has been in confusing the public mind as between the internal and the external threats of communism. 


We must not confuse dissent with disloyalty. We must remember always that accusation is not proof and that conviction depends upon evidence and due process of law. 

We will not walk in fear, one of another. 

We will not be driven by fear into an age of unreason, if we dig deep in our history and our doctrine, and remember that we are not descended from fearful mennot from men who feared to write, to speak, to associate and to defend causes that were, for the moment, unpopular



This is no time for men who oppose Senator McCarthy's methods to keep silent, or for those who approve. 

We can deny our heritage and our history, but 
we cannot escape responsibility for the result. 


There is no way for a citizen of a republic to abdicate his responsibilities. 


As a nation we have come into our full inheritance at a tender age. 

We proclaim ourselves, as indeed we are, the Defenders of Freedom, wherever it continues to exist in the world, but we cannot defend freedom abroad by deserting it at home. 

The actions of the junior Senator from Wisconsin have caused alarm and dismay amongst our allies abroad, and given considerable comfort to our enemies. 

And whose fault is that? Not really his. He didn't create this situation of fear; he merely exploited it — and rather successfully. 

Cassius was right. 



"The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, but in ourselves." 


Good night, and Good luck.

Friday 2 June 2017

Swift Curses : "The Queen Margaret Stuff is Difficult"

O thou well skill'd in curses, stay awhile,
And teach me how to curse mine enemies!
"The Queen Margaret Stuff is Difficult"

Male Oxbridge English Literature Professor, 
On why he doesn't understand Richard III

HEAR ME!!, you wrangling pirates, that fall out 
In sharing that which you have pill'd from me!!!

Which of you trembles not that looks on me? 

Can curses pierce the clouds and enter heaven? 

Why, then, give way, dull clouds, to my quick curses! 





Poor painted queen, vain flourish of my fortune! 
Why strew'st thou sugar on that bottled spider, 
Whose deadly web ensnareth thee about? 
Fool, fool! thou whet'st a knife to kill thyself. 
The time will come when thou shalt wish for me 
To help thee curse that poisonous bunchback'd toad.


Stay, dog,!!! for thou shalt hear me. 
If heaven have any grievous plague in store 
Exceeding those that I can wish upon thee, 
O, let them keep it till thy sins be ripe, 
And then hurl down their indignation 
On thee, the troubler of the poor world's peace! 
The worm of conscience still begnaw thy soul! 
Thy friends suspect for traitors while thou livest, 
And take deep traitors for thy dearest friends! 
No sleep close up that deadly eye of thine, 
Unless it be whilst some tormenting dream 
Affrights thee with a hell of ugly devils! 
Thou elvish-mark'd, abortive, rooting hog! 
Thou that wast seal'd in thy nativity 
The slave of nature and the son of hell! 
Thou slander of thy mother's heavy womb! 
Thou loathed issue of thy father's loins! 
Thou rag of honour! thou detested—
look'd for no reply. 
O, let me make the period to my curse!
A murderous villain, and so still thou art.

To serve me well, you all should do me duty, 
Teach me to be your queen, and you my subjects: 
O, serve me well, and teach yourselves that duty!
Duke of Buckingham. Have done, have done.
O princely Buckingham I'll kiss thy hand, 
In sign of league and amity with thee: 
Now fair befal thee and thy noble house! 
Thy garments are not spotted with our blood, 
Nor thou within the compass of my curse.


What, dost thou scorn me for my gentle counsel? 
And soothe the devil that I warn thee from? 

O, but remember this another day, 
When he shall split thy very heart with sorrow, 
And say poor Margaret was a prophetess! 

Live each of you the subjects to his hate, 
And he to yours, and all of you to God's!