“Was not their mistake once more bred of the life of slavery that they had been living?—a life which was always looking upon everything, except mankind, animate and inanimate—‘nature,’ as people used to call it—as one thing, and mankind as another, it was natural to people thinking in this way, that they should try to make ‘nature’ their slave, since they thought ‘nature’ was something outside them” — William Morris

Wednesday, September 8, 2021

A Fascist Poem about Fascism

 ...sort of accidentally. Eliot was dreaming of a fascist solution to this hollowness. Unfortunately (have you read Hannah Arendt? Why not!), the hollowness is a consequence of it. The nihilism. The longing for a big bang. Whole poem here

We are the hollow men

We are the stuffed men

Leaning together

Headpiece filled with straw. Alas!

Our dried voices, when 5

We whisper together

Are quiet and meaningless

As wind in dry grass

Or rats' feet over broken glass

In our dry cellar 10

Shape without form shade without colour, 

Paralyzed force, gesture without motion;

Those who have crossed

With direct eyes to death's other Kingdom 

Remember us--if at all-- not as lost 15

Violent souls, but only

As the hollow men

The stuffed men.


This is the way the way the world ends 95

This is the way the way the world ends 

This is the way the way the world ends 

Not with a bang but a whimper.

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