http://paulineconspiracy.blogspot.com/
Friday, 31 October 2008
Sunday, 26 October 2008
Thursday, 9 October 2008
The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse
Banker Politician Boss Landlord
Post- Armageddon
"They shall beat their swords into ploughshares and their spears into pruning hooks. Nation shall not raise sword against nation nor train for war any more." Micah 4:3
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Four_Horsemen_of_the_Apocalypse
Monday, 6 October 2008
William Morris
http://www.workersliberty.org/blogs/paulhampton/2008/03/12/1-william-morris-%E2%80%93-marxist-our-time
William Morris
The Earthly Paradise (1868-70)
Forget six counties overhung with smoke,
Forget the snorting steam and piston stroke,
Forget the spreading of the hideous town;
Think rather of the pack-horse on the down,
And dream of London, small and white and clean,
The clear Thames bordered by its gardens green;
Think, that below bridge the green lapping waves
Smite some few keels that bear Levantine staves,
Cut from the yew wood on the burnt-up hill,
Bob Dylan names Burns as inspiration
http://www.theherald.co.uk/search/display.var.2457326.0.bob_dylan_names_burns_as_inspiration.php
O, my luve's like a red, red rose,
That's newly sprung in June.
O, my luve's like the melodie,
That's sweetly play'd in tune.
As fair art thou, my bonie lass,
So deep in luve am I,
And I will luve thee still, my Dear,
Till a' the seas gang dry
Till a' the seas gang dry, my Dear,
And the rocks melt wi' the sun!
O I will luve thee still, my Dear,
While the sands o' life shall run.
And fare thee weel, my only Luve,
And fare thee weel a while!
And I will come again, my Luve,
Tho' it were ten thousand mile!
O, my luve's like a red, red rose,
That's newly sprung in June.
O, my luve's like the melodie,
That's sweetly play'd in tune.
As fair art thou, my bonie lass,
So deep in luve am I,
And I will luve thee still, my Dear,
Till a' the seas gang dry
Till a' the seas gang dry, my Dear,
And the rocks melt wi' the sun!
O I will luve thee still, my Dear,
While the sands o' life shall run.
And fare thee weel, my only Luve,
And fare thee weel a while!
And I will come again, my Luve,
Tho' it were ten thousand mile!
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