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It's Conspiracy Time with Inst


Lu Xun
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          FOR EZRA POUND
                                IL MIGLIOR FABBRO

              I. The Burial of the Dead

 

  April is the cruellest month, breeding

Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing

Memory and desire, stirring

Dull roots with spring rain.

Winter kept us warm, covering

Earth in forgetful snow, feeding

A little life with dried tubers.

Summer surprised us, coming over the Starnbergersee

With a shower of rain; we stopped in the colonnade,

And went on in sunlight, into the Hofgarten,

And drank coffee, and talked for an hour.

Bin gar keine Russin, stamm’ aus Litauen, echt deutsch.

And when we were children, staying at the arch-duke’s,

My cousin’s, he took me out on a sled,

And I was frightened. He said, Marie,

Marie, hold on tight. And down we went.

In the mountains, there you feel free.

I read, much of the night, and go south in the winter.

 

Whoops, wrong T.S. Eliot poem.

 

The Naming Of Cats by T. S. Eliot

The Naming of Cats is a difficult matter,
It isn't just one of your holiday games;
You may think at first I'm as mad as a hatter
When I tell you, a cat must have THREE DIFFERENT NAMES.
First of all, there's the name that the family use daily,
Such as Peter, Augustus, Alonzo or James,
Such as Victor or Jonathan, George or Bill Bailey--
All of them sensible everyday names.
There are fancier names if you think they sound sweeter,
Some for the gentlemen, some for the dames:
Such as Plato, Admetus, Electra, Demeter--
But all of them sensible everyday names.
But I tell you, a cat needs a name that's particular,
A name that's peculiar, and more dignified,
Else how can he keep up his tail perpendicular,
Or spread out his whiskers, or cherish his pride?
Of names of this kind, I can give you a quorum,
Such as Munkustrap, Quaxo, or Coricopat,
Such as Bombalurina, or else Jellylorum-
Names that never belong to more than one cat.
But above and beyond there's still one name left over,
And that is the name that you never will guess;
The name that no human research can discover--
But THE CAT HIMSELF KNOWS, and will never confess.
When you notice a cat in profound meditation,
The reason, I tell you, is always the same:
His mind is engaged in a rapt contemplation
Of the thought, of the thought, of the thought of his name:
His ineffable effable
Effanineffable
Deep and inscrutable singular Name.

 

I was thinking about going on about how certain politics worked from before Knightfall, to the onset of Knightfall, to the formation of Chaos and the treaty dissolution of IQ, but I thought better of it. Maybe post-war. I'm NOT Shifty.

Edited by Inst

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Just now, Maia said:

Oh What a coincidence. It is good place  to put it here 

4df00b56348f9c14.jpg

All the cats in my picture are male.

 

Also, adult cats are lactose intolerant (as they should be) and can't drink milk.

.

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2 minutes ago, Inst said:

All the cats in my picture are male.

 

Also, adult cats are lactose intolerant (as they should be) and can't drink milk.

They turned before they became adult. Chemicals effect last forever.

Edited by Maia

78be39c24ea9f3a0med.jpg 

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