tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4445844569294316288.post2197526731027973978..comments2024-01-28T03:56:39.351-08:00Comments on TOM CLARK: CahokiaUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger4125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4445844569294316288.post-74514074661169391982011-08-31T17:39:12.559-07:002011-08-31T17:39:12.559-07:00yes
notteneyes<br /><br />notteneRobbhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12312524900784740898noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4445844569294316288.post-22675810125558731262011-08-27T17:55:55.657-07:002011-08-27T17:55:55.657-07:00I've certainly benefited many times over by co...I've certainly benefited many times over by coming to Beyond The Pale. It's part of my sustenance.Hazenhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/13417573435195561519noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4445844569294316288.post-75109241213670751242011-08-27T08:39:02.792-07:002011-08-27T08:39:02.792-07:00Hazen,
It's all very well to call oneself Bey...Hazen,<br /><br />It's all very well to call oneself Beyond the Pale but now and again it gets a bit lonesome out there on the end of the limb, as you chew it off. Thus all the more gratifying when, after accidentally walking into a situation like the one here described, standing bewildered and agape in the street observing it, wandering back off into the night, spending the remaining dark hours contemplating the experience, then by dawn writing something (this) about it, and assuming no one on the planet will have any idea what it's about (or care less)... a comment like yours comes in.<br /><br />The only possible or potential reward of this sort of endeavour is the feeling that maybe somebody "gets it". <br /><br />Thanks very much for giving me that.TChttps://www.blogger.com/profile/05915822857461178942noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4445844569294316288.post-48337836318972760982011-08-27T08:24:39.418-07:002011-08-27T08:24:39.418-07:00Most excellent, Tom. And oh that change-over, from...Most excellent, Tom. And oh that change-over, from card board pallets to the paranoia of Constantine. A weaver of histories you are. Wait a minute, we say, the shock of recognition twisting our heads around: old Connie, that boy is one of us . . . the long line of descent (apt term that) from there to here et fucking cetera. In the overlay of time a fundamental error repeats itself; in the Middle East and the Mid-West and in the champagne powerfests. The fatal flaw of empire, and that empire is blind to. Ouspensky saw it: “The history of civilization is the history of crime.”Hazenhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/13417573435195561519noreply@blogger.com