Month: September 2016

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George Caleb Bingham Week at TechnoChitlins

George Caleb Bingham Self-Portrait
George Caleb Bingham Self-Portrait

Wikipedia:

George Caleb Bingham (March 20, 1811 – July 7, 1879) was an American artist whose paintings of American life in the frontier lands along the Missouri River exemplify the Luminist style. Left to languish in obscurity, Bingham’s work was rediscovered in the 1930s. By the time of his bicentennial in 2011, he was considered one of the greatest American painters of the 19th century. That year the George Caleb Bingham Catalogue Raisonné Supplement Of Paintings & Drawings—directed and edited by Bingham scholar Fred R. Kline—announced the authentication of ten recently discovered paintings by Bingham. As of June 2015, a total of twenty-three (23) newly discovered paintings by Bingham have been authenticated and are listed with the GCBCRS.[1]

Great, authentic Americana. I do so love this stuff…

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Poesy, a warning

THE WRATH OF THE AWAKENED SAXON
by Rudyard Kipling

It was not part of their blood,
It came to them very late,
With long arrears to make good,
When the Saxon began to hate.

They were not easily moved,
They were icy — willing to wait
Till every count should be proved,
Ere the Saxon began to hate.

Their voices were even and low.
Their eyes were level and straight.
There was neither sign nor show
When the Saxon began to hate.

It was not preached to the crowd.
It was not taught by the state.
No man spoke it aloud
When the Saxon began to hate.

It was not suddently bred.
It will not swiftly abate.
Through the chilled years ahead,
When Time shall count from the date
That the Saxon began to hate.

“they were enamoured of poesy and the fine arts”

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Jungleland

I had a big September 11 post all written in my head, full of fire and anguish, but in the end I couldn’t do it. Others all over the Internet did a much better job than I could have. Besides, the events of the past year have left me sad and depressed. Not beaten, though- the bastards will not get me down.

One could be forgiven for thinking that the 11th of this month has a hex on it- especially if you’re Hillary Clinton. I can’t but think there’s a little Karma adjustment going on. Trump, bless his boneheaded little heart, at least had the decency to know when to shut up. We’ll see if that holds up.

Meanwhile, we have millionaire athletes protesting the national anthem because this country isn’t treating them right. The reality disconnection there is mind-boggling.

Days like yesterday put me in mind of The Boss, in his younger, less politicized days:

Outside the street’s on fire in a real death waltz
Between what’s flesh and what’s fantasy
And the poets down here don’t write nothing at all
They just stand back and let it all be
And in the quick of a knife, they reach for their moment
And try to make an honest stand
But they wind up wounded, not even dead
Tonight in Jungleland

God help the United States of America. We need it.