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In my part of the world, the earth has begun to awaken from its winterlong sleep. The colours of the day are changing and the earth and its attendant branches of family are blooming into beauty.
Lewis Lapham's work was a rigorous autopsy of American culture, exposing the chasm between our pretensions and our realities. With a historian’s depth and a satirist’s wit, he illuminated the follies that sustain our collective delusions.
Following the assassination attempt, Donald Trump evidently sees his survival as a sign from God, in whom he very likely does not believe, that he is certain to achieve victory this November. It seems Trump’s religious road veers towards whichever destination offers him the greatest prize.
Following the assassination attempt on Donald Trump, politicians, including the US President were quick to condemn the shooting, all saying it had no place in American society or democracy. Tell that to children killed by gunfire. Every day, guns take young lives in the US. Gun violence was recently declared a national health crisis in the United States.
To be complicit, must you share the same intent? If one says nothing, does nothing, does this signify complicity? Is there then such a thing as an innocent bystander?
The chill of winter is now upon us. It is said that landscape is a defining factor in how a people have developed and how their behaviour is formed and modified. So too it is for the season. So thank you, autumn.
The reissuing of a record is not just news for the record, it’s also a reissuing of that part of the life of the listener who knew the original. Thus it is with Richard Clapton, his debut album Prussian Blue, and me.
'Thoughts and prayers': Is it now a tired, worn-out cliché, its usefulness questionable? It is now used so many times to render its meaning, its core message, void. Sometimes more than words are needed.
How about truth as an antidote to war? Who would have stomach for it, though we see war as part of existence? The trouble with its normalisation, such as in games, both in backyards and in cyberspace, is that becomes uncoupled from reality.
You open the atlas and run your fingers along the edges of continents, climb mountains, trace valleys, pause at coastlines of sand and wave. This is where you have been and this, fingers arched, is where you want to go. Death is too faint to be seen. Though you know it’s there, the undiscovered country.
‘The loss of memory by a nation is also a loss of its conscience.’ As the loss of conscience grows with each succeeding generation, one day righting the boat on the sea of forgetfulness will become impossible. In the end, what people don’t know, they won’t miss.
In a recent survey of young Americans, 20 per cent of respondents, aged from 18 to 29, thought that the Holocaust was a myth. If knowledge of history fades into the mist, the space will be filled with ignorance, and worse, wilful malice.
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