Út allt, allt út

Out all, all out.

PS - That's Sigur Rós' song, Varúð.  I've blogged about it before.

In the Mirror of the Mind Projecting

Looking through the Window at the Future:

Looking through the window at the future
Under the rooftree of the self
In the log cabin, in the pine woods
And disappearing hills
Sometimes it seems the heart
Should break from sheer happiness
Except that we know our lives
Keep leaning outwards
Like stone towers into the distance
Where the future is lying in wait
With sad eyes looking back
Like a huge slaughtered mountain. 

Patricia Goedicke.

We Came in Peace for All Mankind

How about we send him there to go get it for us? pic.twitter.com/exzicHJx3k

— Arbiter of Cool (@ArbiterofCool) September 6, 2026

Not quite the soaring rhetoric of the man whose memorial Trump is pissing on:

[S]pace can be explored and mastered without feeding the fires of war, without repeating the mistakes that man has made in extending his writ around this globe of ours.

There is no strife, no prejudice, no national conflict in outer space as yet. Its hazards are hostile to us all. Its conquest deserves the best of all mankind...

So yeah, it tracks that the racist rapist with dementia would try to introduce strife, prejudice, and national conflict up there.  Since there's not an agreement that he doesn't enjoy tearing up, I'm sure he's dying (cross fingers!) to abrogate the Outer Space Treaty:

Article I

The exploration and use of outer space, including the moon and other celestial bodies, shall be carried out for the benefit and in the interests of all countries, irrespective of their degree of economic or scientific development, and shall be the province of all mankind.

Outer space, including the moon and other celestial bodies, shall be free for exploration and use by all States without discrimination of any kind, on a basis of equality and in accordance with international law, and there shall be free access to all areas of celestial bodies.

There shall be freedom of scientific investigation in outer space, including the moon and other celestial bodies, and States shall facilitate and encourage international co-operation in such investigation.

Article II

Outer space, including the moon and other celestial bodies, is not subject to national appropriation by claim of sovereignty, by means of use or occupation, or by any other means.

Anyway, I take issue with the OP's suggestion that we send Trump.  No need to trash the place.

Selah.

Plan B! Plan B! Plan B!

Thе kids don't wanna dance?

Último brindis

The Last Toast:

Whether we like it or not,
We have only three choices:
Yesterday, today and tomorrow.

And not even three
Because as the philosopher says
Yesterday is yesterday
It belongs to us only in memory:
From the rose already plucked
No more petals can be drawn.

The cards to play
Are only two:
The present and the future.

And there aren't even two
Because it's a known fact
The present doesn't exist
Except as it edges past
And is consumed...,
like youth.

In the end
We are only left with tomorrow.
I raise my glass
To the day that never arrives.

But that is all
we have at our disposal.

Nicanor Parra.

To Infinity and Beyond

Happy Voyager 1 Launch Day!

The probe is now in interstellar space, the region outside the heliopause, or the bubble of energetic particles and magnetic fields from the Sun. Voyager 1 was launched after Voyager 2, but because of a faster route it exited the asteroid belt earlier than its twin, and it overtook Voyager 2 on Dec. 15, 1977. 

• Voyager 1 discovered a thin ring around Jupiter and two new Jovian moons: Thebe and Metis.
• At Saturn, Voyager 1 found five new moons and a new ring called the G-ring.
• Voyager 1 was the first spacecraft to cross the heliosphere, the boundary where the influences from outside our solar system are stronger than those from our Sun.
• Voyager 1 is the first human-made object to venture into interstellar space.

Watch out for Klingons, little buddy...

I Am Persuaded

Yeah, chaos is king, but you know that you can't stop, won't stop. 

Уярмлені народи гойдають небо

Немилосердно нас об вічність б’ють:

They beat our snow-covered heads against
eternity, relentlessly, without mercy.
And we still fail to settle a score with
our era and to find the path of truth.
Our grief’s ice-shards grind, bash and
and batter us. The shards of our pain
keep calling us to battle. But all we do is
swim behind ourselves like our own cadavers.
Our fury’s taking our breath away.
You, captive of eternity, go throw yourself
against the wall to win your freedom.
The world’s in agony, but defiant peoples
still shake the lampshade of the sky.
The stinging thorns of their screams
grow to the stars, into the cosmic blackness.

Vasyl Stus.

Talking with the girl

But the girl goes sideways...

The Entire Weight of Existence

Here and Now:

The day comes in strips of yellow glass over trees.

 

When I tell you the day is a poem

I’m only talking to you and only the sky is listening.

 

The sky is listening; the sky is as hopeful

as I am walking into the pomegranate seeds

of the wind that whips up the seawall.

 

If you want the poem to take on everything,

walk into a hackberry tree,

then walk out beyond the seawall.

 

I’m not far from a room where Van Gogh

was a patient—his head on a pillow hearing

the mistral careen off the seawall,

 

hearing the fauvist leaves pelt

the sarcophagi. Here and now

 

the air of the tepidarium kissed my jaw

and pigeons ghosting in the blue loved me

 

for a second, before the wind

broke branches and guttered into the river.

 

What questions can I ask you?

How will the sky answer the wind?

 

The dawn isn’t heartbreaking.

The world isn’t full of love.

Peter Balakian.

#throwbackthursday

Kids cleaned up good for Aunt S' wedding in Orygun last year.

Hoping for the best but expecting the worst

I've long associated this song with freshman year of high school, but turns out it was released in September '84, which was the start of sophomore year.  Memory is funny.

Who waits forever anyway?

Immortality:

Forgotten now her fragile golden beauty,
The tilt of her proud chin;
Her quick bright words, her elfish wistful laughter;
Her dreams of lovely things that might have been.
But not a one has ever yet forgotten
Her one small sin. 

Jewell Bothwell Tull.

Dad said I have to be home by eleven

Aw man, I'm gonna miss Stairway to Heaven!