Ruthven Todd, ‘These are the Facts’

 These are the facts, observe them how you will:

Forget for a moment the medals and the glory,

The clean shape of the bomb, designed to kill,

And the proud headlines of the papers’ story.

 

Remember the walls of brick that forty years

Had nursed to make a neat though shabby home;

The impertinence of death, ignoring tears,

That smashed the house and left untouched the Dome.

 

Bodies in death are not magnificent or stately,

Bones are not elegant that blast has shattered;

This sorry, stained and crumpled rag was lately

A man whose like was made of little things that mattered;

 

Now he is just a nuisance, liable to stink,

A breeding-ground for flies, a test-tube for disease:

Bury him quickly and never pause to think

What is the future like to men like these?

 

People are more than places, more than pride;

A million photographs record the works of Wren;

A city remains a city on credit from the tide

That flows among its rocks, a sea of men.

 

Ruthven Todd, ‘These are the Facts’

 

On Being Asked For A War Poem by William Butler Yeats

  

On Being Asked For A War Poem

by William Butler Yeats

I think it better that in times like these
A poet's mouth be silent, for in truth
We have no gift to set a statesman right;
He has had enough of medding who can please
A young girl in the indolence of her youth,
Or an old man upon a winter's night.

99 baloons

We really thought that war was good?

How dumb were we in the past to have actually thought that there could be anything good about war? War is war! War is evil! War cannot ever be called anything other than vomit! It you like shooting at people who get in your way, merely because they have gotten in your way, then you are crazy! Yet, this is what war demands! Yes, it is better than slavery, but that doesn't make it good!

last diary entry of Anne Frank

Tuesday, 1 August, 1944:

Dearest Kitty,

“A bundle of contradictions” was the end of my previous letter and is the beginning of this one. Can you please tell me exactly what “a bundle of contradictions” is? What does “contradiction” mean? Like so many words, it can be interpreted in two ways: a contradiction imposed from without and one imposed from within.

The former means not accepting other people’s opinions, always knowing best, having the last word; in short, all those unpleasant traits for which I’m known. The latter, for which I’m not known, is my own secret.

As I’ve told you many times, I’m split in two. One side contains my exuberant cheerfulness, my flippancy, my joy in life and, above all, my ability to appreciate the lighter side of things. By that I mean not finding anything wrong with flirtations, a kiss, an embrace, an off-colour joke. This side of me is usually lying in wait to ambush the other one, which is much purer, deeper and finer. No one knows Anne’s better side, and that’s why most people can’t stand me….

Oh, I can be an amusing clown for an afternoon, but after that everyone’s had enough of me to last a month. Actually, I’m what a romantic movie is to a profound thinker – a mere diversion, a comic interlude, something that is soon forgotten: not bad, but not particularly good either.

I hate having to tell you this, but why shouldn’t I admit it when I know it’s true? My lighter, more superficial side will always steal a march on the deeper side and therefore always win. You can’t imagine how often I’ve tried to push away this Anne, which is only half of what is known as Anne-to beat her down, hide her. But it doesn’t work, and I know why.

I’m afraid that people who know me as I usually am will discover I have another side, a better and finer side. I’m afraid they’ll mock me, think I’m ridiculous and sentimental and not take me seriously. I’m used to not being taken seriously, but only the “light-hearted” Anne is used to it and can put up with it; the “deeper” Anne is too weak. If I force the good Anne into the spotlight for even fifteen minutes, she shuts up like a clam the moment she’s called upon to speak, and lets Anne number one do the talking. Before I realize it, she’s disappeared.

So the nice Anne is never seen in company. She’s never made a single appearance, though she almost always takes the stage when I’m alone. I know exactly how I’d like to be, how I am… on the inside. But unfortunately I’m only like that with myself. And perhaps that’s why-no, I’m sure that’s the reason why I think of myself as happy on the inside and other people think I’m happy on the outside. I’m guided by the pure Anne within, but on the outside I’m nothing but a frolicsome little goat tugging at its tether.

As I’ve told you, what I say is not what I feel, which is why I have a reputation for being boy-crazy as well as a flirt, a smart aleck and a reader of romances. The happy-go-lucky Anne laughs, gives a flippant reply, shrugs her shoulders and pretends she doesn’t give a darn. The quiet Anne reacts in just the opposite way. If I’m being completely honest, I’ll have to admit that it does matter to me, that I’m trying very hard to change myself, but that I I’m always up against a more powerful enemy.

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A voice within me is sobbing, “You see, that’s what’s become of you. You’re surrounded by negative opinions, dismayed looks and mocking faces, people, who dislike you, and all because you don’t listen to the advice of your own better half.”

Believe me, I’d like to listen, but it doesn’t work, because if I’m quiet and serious, everyone thinks I’m putting on a new act and I have to save myself with a joke, and then I’m not even talking about my own family, who assume I must be sick, stuff me with aspirins and sedatives, feel my neck and forehead to see if I have a temperature, ask about my bowel movements and berate me for being in a bad mood, until I just can’t keep it up anymore, because when everybody starts hovering over me, I get cross, then sad, and finally end up turning my heart inside g out, the bad part on the outside and the good part on the inside, and keep trying to find a way to become what I’d like to be and what I could be if… if only there were no other people in the world.

Yours, Anne M. Frank

Imagine

It shouldn't matter who wins

It shouldn't matter who wins! What is victory? It makes no difference at all! Wars are all infinitely evil! They can never be justified! They can never be forgiven! Who ever wins a war? There is no such thing as a winner to a war! Everyone who fights in a war is a loser! What are the casualties of war? The first casualty is truth! The second is morality! The third is dignity! Does it matter who wins? Just because one side loses does not matter! What matters is human rights! What matters is human dignity! What matters is the rights of every individual! Who cares about winning and losing? Who should ever care about that? Is war like some kind of game, like the Superbowl? This is not a basketball game! This is not the Superbowl! Can we be patriotic? No, stop rooting for your team! Give up on the idea of teams here! What matters is morality! There is no good at all in any form of conflict that involves morality! Morals matter! We don't! Is there any good in war? Give up on your stupid ideas that there is anything good about war! There cannot be any thing moral about such at all! Killing is evil! Killing children is infinitely evil! This is what war requires! It requires children to die! Stop praying to Mars the abomination! Stop saying words like Victor and loser! Wars can never have winners! Everyone who fights destroys themselves! What matters is morality! What matters is that you give up your images of your privileges! Winning is accursed when morals are involved! So stop the hate! Care about something other than your own greed! It shouldn't matter who wins!