The nineteenth century lynching mob cuts off ears, toes, and fingers, strips off flesh, and distributes portions of the body as souvenirs among the crowd.
quote by Ida B. Wells
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The nineteenth century dislike of realism is the rage of Caliban seeing his own face in a glass. The nineteenth century dislike of romanticism is the rage of Caliban not seeing his own face in a glass.
Oscar Wilde in The Picture of Dorian Gray, Preface (1890)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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If the nineteenth century was the age of the editorial chair, ours is the century of the psychiatrist's couch.
quote by Marshall McLuhan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The nineteenth century believed in science but the twentieth century does not.
quote by Gertrude Stein
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When It Cuts
cannot justify your envy
But I will be understanding when you stay
Then I will satisfy you in every (way)
But I'm not feeling coherent when you say
When it cuts, it cuts, it cuts hard
And I
When it cuts, it cuts, it cuts hard
And I die again
Again
Though I'm right, I don't think I'll win this fight
But I'm trying though it's ripping me inside
Just in case that I'm taking up your space
I'll be feeling too, whatever's left inside
When it cuts, it cuts, it cuts hard
And I
When it cuts, it cuts, it cuts hard
And I die again
I can't go on
I'm not that strong
I'm so alone
You just gotta set me free
I'm still living day, no way
I don't care what you say
Your eyes dispise my lies
Just say goodbye
When it cuts, it cuts, it cuts hard
And I
When it cuts, it cuts, it cuts hard
And I die again
Again, again
Waste your breath
song performed by by Ill NiO
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When It Cuts
cannot justify your envy
But I will be understanding when you stay
Then I will satisfy you in every (way)
But I'm not feeling coherent when you say
When it cuts, it cuts, it cuts hard
And I
When it cuts, it cuts, it cuts hard
And I die again
Again
Though I'm right, I don't think I'll win this fight
But I'm trying though it's ripping me inside
Just in case that I'm taking up your space
I'll be feeling too, whatever's left inside
When it cuts, it cuts, it cuts hard
And I
When it cuts, it cuts, it cuts hard
And I die again
I can't go on
I'm not that strong
I'm so alone
You just gotta set me free
I'm still living day, no way
I don't care what you say
Your eyes dispise my lies
Just say goodbye
When it cuts, it cuts, it cuts hard
And I
When it cuts, it cuts, it cuts hard
And I die again
Again, again
Waste your breath
song performed by by Ill NiO
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ireland is a peculiar society in the sense that it was a nineteenth century society up to about 1970 and then it almost bypassed the twentieth century.
quote by John McGahern
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I'd Rather Have Habits Than Clothes
I'd Rather Have Habits Than Clothes,
For that's where my intellect shows.
And as for my hair,
Do you think I should care
To comb it at night with my toes?
I'd rather have ears than a nose,
I'd rather have fingers than toes,
But as for my hair:
I'm glad it's all there;
I'll be awfully sad when it goes.
I wish that my Room had a Floor;
I don't so much care for a Door,
But this walking around
Without touching the ground
Is getting to be quite a bore!
poem by Gelett Burgess
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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On Digital Extremities
I'd Rather have Fingers than Toes;
I'd Rather have Ears than a Nose;
And As for my Hair,
I'm Glad it's All There;
I'll be Awfully Sad, when it Goes!
poem by Gelett Burgess
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This crusade is much more important than the anti- lynching movement, because there would be no lynching if it did not start in the schoolroom.
quote by Carter G. Woodson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You know, I am against lynching and lynching is a tendency of the people.
quote by Jacques Verges
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cuts
It's a tied rope
Life flips
Someone else
have found the mood
Break to another world
I got to tell them
I was the one before
and it's not my fault
I'm what you adore
Take my flesh I am real
What you gonna do
if I let you feel
Cuts
I'm not a maniac
Cuts
I'm not a maniac
The time is up
fighting against the miserables
When I step into your room
I know what's on your mind
So shut your mouth
I was the one before
I got your time
I'm what you ignore
It is true I'm healed
so what you gonna do with
if I let you feel
Cuts
I'm not a maniac
Cuts
I'm not a maniac
Say it I know you can't
Follow cause I'm to fast
Say it I know you can't
Lay with me
Say it I know you can
Follow cause I'm to fast
Say it, say it again
Cuts
I'm not a maniac
Cuts
I'm not a maniac
Cuts
I'm not a maniac
Say it, say it again
song performed by by Guano Apes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mothers send strips to daughters to make a point. Daughters smack strips down on the breakfast table to make a point. My own mom sometimes cuts a strip out and sends it to me to make sure I understand her.
quote by Cathy Guisewite
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Death and vulgarity are the only two facts in the nineteenth century that one cannot explain away.
quote by Oscar Wilde
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In the nineteenth century the problem was that God is dead. In the twentieth century the problem is that man is dead.
quote by Erich Fromm
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Shallow Days...
well, there are
shallow days, nothing deep
something for my
feet,
above me the sun
one and only one sun
just the sun and my head
and the shallow waters
on my toes
and the noon time walk
when everyone is as usual
having lunch, and
my toes get wet and i
am making meanings
on the shallow waters
the body in the middle of
this air, the hands are like
eagles flying. the fingers are
turning into feathers
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Thirty Ninth Lash Of The Whip
They tied Him on a pillar
As if He would try to escape
His destiny foretold before birth
They tore off His clothes, took His cape.
The whip used on Him, a flagellum
Had leather strips attached for greater cruelty
The ends had bits of bone, pieces of chain
Perhaps to ensure - the prisoner had more pain.
Now as the Roman lictor moved back
Six feet away for more impact
Spread his legs and with all his might
Hit the flagellum on the God of Light.
The strips curled around His body
Then little bits of His flesh were shed,
Bleeding from the cuts of metal and bone
The Son of God, in silent cry, was alone.
Thirty-nine lashes were thus received.
He suffered the stripes of pain for no crime
Thirty-nine illnesses to be healed of Man
The last disease... has arrived in our time.
Thirty nine illnesses that plague us now
Have been laid upon Him, the Lamb of God!
It was for our healing He bore them in Love
Suffered as a man, with all the Divinity He had.
That thirty ninth lash, for the most pain He paid
Hit hard as His Body laid bare bleeding
The thirty ninth disease, it is HIV/AIDS
A disease of the soul that denies God is judging.
'Sure ly He took our infirmities
and carried our sorrows,
yet we considered Him stricken by God,
smitten by Him, and afflicted.
But He was pierced for our transgressions,
He was crushed for our iniquities,
the punishment that brought us peace
was upon Him,
and by His wounds we are healed.'
ISAIAH 53: 4-5
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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Since the end of the nineteenth century, if not earlier, presidents have misled the public about their motives and their intentions in going to war.
quote by Robert Higgs
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Well, well, Henry James is pretty good, though he is of the nineteenth century, and that glaringly.
quote by Robert Louis Stevenson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Few people at the beginning of the nineteenth century needed an adman to tell them what they wanted.
quote by John Kenneth Galbraith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sand-Between-The-Toes
I went down to the shouting sea,
Taking Christopher down with me,
For Nurse had given us sixpence each-
And down we went to the beach.
We had sand in the eyes and the ears and the nose,
And sand in the hair, and sand-between-the-toes.
Whenever a good nor'wester blows,
Christopher is certain of
Sand-between-the-toes.
The sea was galloping grey and white;
Christopher clutched his sixpence tight;
We clambered over the humping sand-
And Christopher held my hand.
We had sand in the eyes and the ears and the nose,
And sand in the hair, and sand-between-the-toes.
Whenever a good nor'wester blows,
Christopher is certain of
Sand-between-the-toes.
There was a roaring in the sky;
The sea-gulls cried as they blew by;
We tried to talk, but had to shout-
Nobody else was out.
When we got home, we had sand in the hair,
In the eyes and the ears and everywhere;
Whenever a good nor'wester blows,
Christopher is found with
Sand-between-the-toes.
poem by Alan Alexander Milne
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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