Thankful that the loveliest, kindest, and most thoughtful girl in the world is mine. 🙂 ❤



 

“How Do I Love Thee?,” by Elizabeth Barrett Browning

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of being and ideal grace.
I love thee to the level of every day’s
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for right.
I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood’s faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.



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Image: The Roycrofters, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

Throwback Thursday: Thanksgiving Super Sale at The Wiz (1985)!!!

The Wiz might be something only my fellow New Yorkers will remember — it was a regional electronics chain in the metropolitan area.  Get a load of that electric typewriter for just $99.00.

Though everyone in my Long Island neighborhood saw commercials like this on TV, there weren’t any Wiz locations near us.  That territory had been firmly staked out by the far older P. C. Richard and Sons, The Wiz’ competitor.

Be warned — the jingle here is an earworm.


Happy Thanksgiving, all!!

Enjoy it and stay safe.  You guys behave yourselves!!  No roughhousing this year!

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Life magazine cover, November 20, 1890

“Let there be spaces in your togetherness, /And let the winds of the heavens dance between you.”

Let there be spaces in your togetherness,
And let the winds of the heavens dance between you.

Love one another but make not a bond of love:
Let it rather be a moving sea between the shores of your souls.

Fill each other’s cup but drink not from one cup.

Give one another of your bread but eat not from the same loaf.

Sing and dance together and be joyous, but let each one of you be alone,
Even as the strings of a lute are alone though they quiver with the same music.

Give your hearts, but not into each other’s keeping.
For only the hand of Life can contain your hearts.

And stand together, yet not too near together:
For the pillars of the temple stand apart,
And the oak tree and the cypress grow not in each other’s shadow.

— from Kahlil Gibran’s The Prophet, 1923

Source: The Marginalian



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Photo credit: J Carlos, CC BY-SA 3.0 <https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0&gt;, via Wikimedia Commons

Poster for “Star Wars: The Book of Boba Fett” Season 1 (2021)

Disney Plus.

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“But the conquest of the physical world is not man’s only duty.”

Perhaps the primary distinction of the artist is that he must actively cultivate that state which most men, necessarily, must avoid: the state of being alone.  That all men are, when the chips are down, alone, is a banality — a banality because it is very frequently stated, but very rarely, on the evidence, believed.  Most of us are not compelled to linger with the knowledge of our aloneness, for it is a knowledge that can paralyze all action in this world.  There are, forever, swamps to be drained, cities to be created, mines to be exploited, children to be fed.  None of these things can be done alone.  But the conquest of the physical world is not man’s only duty.  He is also enjoined to conquer the great wilderness of himself.  The precise role of the artist, then, is to illuminate that darkness, blaze roads through that vast forest, so that we will not, in all our doing, lose sight of its purpose, which is, after all, to make the world a more human dwelling place.

— James Baldwin, The Creative Process, 1962

Source: The Marginalian



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“You can shed tears because they are gone, or you can smile because they lived.”

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Poster for “Hannibal” Season 3 (2015)

NBC.

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A Message from the Editors of The Bees Are Dead.

It is with deep sadness that we are announcing an official close to submissions to The Bees Are Dead.

In all honesty, the webzine has been on hiatus for a while due to issues with our hosting site and growing family and work commitments. However, the unfortunate and sudden death of our great friend – and a third of the editorial Triumvirate, Dennis Williamson (a.k.a. Villelmi) – has caused the tentative process of reigniting the zine to fully extinguish.

We would like to thank everyone who submitted their work to us over the years and contributed to our dystopian labour of love. As has always been the case, please feel free to submit anything you had published with us, elsewhere.

The Bees Are Dead website has been taken down, but we will be leaving our Facebook page live (for as long as Facebook remains active) in memory of our beloved Dennis, whose collaboration, friendship, and exceptional talent for writing dark poetry imbued with a concoction of industrial imagery and classical references, we will never forget.

We wish all of our contributors and readers good luck in your current and future projects, and we hope you will continue to name us within your writer’s biographies.

With love and gratitude,

Philippe and Eric
– B.A.D. Press



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Nurse Your Favorite Heresies in Whispers