“Byblis,” William-Adolphe Bouguereau, 1884

William-Adolphe_Bouguereau_(1825-1905)_-_Biblis_(1884)

Gen-X music jokes? The more I look, the Morrissey.

Staying at home can be disorienting because every day feels the same.

I try to keep myself grounded with music. But then Morrissey comes on and every day is like Sunday.

 

 

“Bäume im Mondschein,” Carl Julius von Leypold, 1824

“Trees in the Moonlight.”  Oil on canvas.

Carl_Julius_von_Leypold_-_Bäume_im_Mondschein

“The Philosopher,” by Eric Robert Nolan

She’s a painter in oils in the land of the blind —
and a sculptor over the dead.
The deaf will demur to her poetry
while epics roar in her head.

Like Cassandra, who spun futures
so dolefully from frenzied lips,
Her words are as mad to insensate hearts
as sea-sunk towers, desert ships.

Would that I could assuage that hearth
where her discernment smolders —
my hands around the hard and the white
limestone of her shoulders.

(c) Eric Robert Nolan 2020

 

Bouguereau-Evening_Mood_1882

“Evening Mood,” William-Adolphe Bouguereau, 1882

This is a brilliant example of video editing.

Honestly.  I try to refrain from linking to Youtube videos on my blog, but this was too good not to share.  (I am linking here to the PoliticsJOE Youtube channel.)

I’m willing to bet R.E.M. would be proud.

 

“Flowers,” Abate Andrea Belvedere, 1680

Oil on canvas.

Belvedere,_Abate_Andrea_-_Flowers_-_c._1680

“In Memory of My Mother,” by Patrick Kavanagh

I do not think of you lying in the wet clay
Of a Monaghan graveyard; I see
You walking down a lane among the poplars
On your way to the station, or happily

Going to second Mass on a summer Sunday-
You meet me and you say:
‘Don’t forget to see about the cattle-‘
Among your earthiest words the angels stray.
And I think of you walking along a headland
Of green oats in June,
So full of repose, so rich with life-
And I see us meeting at the end of a town
On a fair day by accident, after
The bargains are all made and we can walk
Together through the shops and stalls and markets
Free in the oriental streets of thought.
O you are not lying in the wet clay,
For it is harvest evening now and we
Are piling up the ricks against the moonlight
And you smile up at us – eternally.

 

 

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“The Harvest Moon,” William M. Monroe, 1906

Cover to “Famous Funnies” #209, Frank Frazetta, 1953

Eastern Color Printing.

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I am going to drive drunk tonight.

I am going to drive drunk tonight.

I don’t personally know anyone who has been killed by a drunk driver. Neither have my friends. Therefore, drunk driving is demonstrably safe.

As for all those public health “experts” and their statistics, have you ever thought about what agenda they serve? Wake up! They just want to control us. If you fall for their scare tactics, you’re a sheep. But not me.

Those news articles about drunk driving deaths? I don’t read anything from the news media. It isn’t that I’m intellectually lazy, or prone to broadcasting uninformed opinions. I just don’t want to be brainwashed, and I’m smart enough to draw my own conclusions. I’m not ignorant; I’m elevated above the credulous by my refusal to read. I drove drunk the other night, for example, and nobody was killed. Explain THAT.

The police blotter? I don’t trust the police, either – always questioning people, charging them and making arrests. Here’s an eye opener for you – do you know where else the police did things like that? THE SOVIET UNION.

Besides, I’m protected by the Blood of Jesus. If God decides to take me, then it’s my time. If I should happen to cause someone else’s death, then it was their time too. (If they do not share my religion, and thus are not guaranteed entrance to a euphoric afterlife, then it’s their fault, not mine. And if God takes them, it will surely reflect His judgement against their character.)

Furthermore, I need to drive drunk in order to demonstrate my faith, and God’s consequent divine protection. This isn’t a garish and particularly dangerous form of religious virtue-signaling. It’s me providing a spiritual example.

I’m brave. I’m tough. I’M AN AMERICAN. My premeditated drunk driving in the face of an oppressive government should tell you that.  So should my willingness to engage in high-risk behavior.

And so should my gun, right here. Impressive, huh? (You should have seen the faces on the unarmed civil servants when I marched through a public building with it yesterday. I take a lot of brave stands, you see, so I also protest social distancing requirements.)

If you want to hear more about my courageous protests, I’ve got lots to tell. You’ll notice that a lot of my stories carry a subtext suggesting that I am unusually bold, and especially macho, and that, more than others, I am an AMERICAN, god damn it.

But it will have to wait, because I need to lie down. Ever since the protest yesterday, I’ve developed a hell of a cold.

[COUGH!]

 

Cover to “The Thing From Another World” #1, John B. Higgins, 1991

Dark Horse Comics.

Thing_From_Another_World_(Issue_1)

 

Nurse Your Favorite Heresies in Whispers