All we know

All we know about humanity, all we know about God, someone else has told us. Why should any of it be true? Each consciousness probes the Universe on a spider's thread, blindly intersecting with infinite others at the velocity of thought; yet each consciousness remains a universe unto itself. We know for certain nothing, save love, and that, too, requires the Other.

Occupied Wall Street Journal

I went down to Wall St. for four days to see what was going on. I'll write more about it soon, but I thought I'd post a copy of the newspaper put out by the occupiers. It's about a week old and much has transpired since, but it gives good info on what the protest and the protesters are all about. Occupied Wall Street Journal

Game

Maxine Kumin

Before he died
Archduke Franz Ferdinand,
gunned down in Sarajevo
to jump-start World War I,
bragged he had shot three
thousand stags and a miscellany
of foxes, geese, wolves, and boars
driven toward him by beaters,
stout men he ordered to flush
creatures from their cover
into his sights, a tradition
the British aristocracy
carried on, further aped
by rich Americans
from Teddy R. to Ernest H.,
something Supreme
Court Justice Antonin
Scalia, pudgy son of Sicilian
immigrants, indulged in
when, years later, he had
scores of farm-raised birds
beaten from their cages and scared
up for him to shoot down
which brought him an inner joy.
What happened
to him when he was a boy?