Slouching toward Bethlehem

How’s this for predicting the rotten fruit softness of the failing Liberal experiment of the past 50 years in just a few words?

In 1919 WB Yeats wrote a short religious poem called The Second Coming. This is a part:-

Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
    Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
    The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
    The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
    The best lack all conviction, while the worst
    Are full of passionate intensity.

The worst certainly are full of ‘passionate intensity’ while the best — or maybe the rest– of us demonstrably ‘lack all conviction’.



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