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Friday, May 1, 2015

This Week On The Gathering Storm

(For other material, please scroll down)

Listen to The Gathering Storm Radio Show, which I co-host with WC.

The show broadcasts live for 30 minutes every Friday beginning at noon, Pacific Time.

The call-in number is 646-915-9870. Callers welcome!

Our scheduled guest this week is Mr. Ducky. We will be discussing war films.

Listen to the May 1, 2015 edition of The Gathering Storm Radio Show, live or later, by CLICKING HERE.

May 8: IQ al Rassooli
May 15: Midnight Rider, if available
May 22: IQ al Rassooli
May 29: no guest


  1. o/t - "The Address of Liberty, to the Buckskins of Pennsylvania, on hearing of the intended Provincial Congress:

    Fair Liberty, dear Goddess Bright—
    Wishing to set the Pennites right—
    Thus from her Throne, in candid Strains,
    Addressed her Pennsylvan Swain.
    Can public Virtue by me stand,
    See Faction stalking through the Land ?—
    Faction that Fiend, begat in Hell—
    In Boston nurs' d—here brought to dwell
    By Congress, who, in airy Freak,
    Conven'd to plan a Republic?
    Will Helmsmen let the Ship of State,
    Meet with so dire, shipwreck'd a Fate?
    Can Judges, fam'd for Probity
    Sit tame Spectators by, and see
    The Laws oppugn'd by Committee—
    Who Laugh at Courts, and Loyalty?
    Can peaceful Quakers, honest Church,
    See Congress leave them in the Lurch,
    And o'er their Heads such Vermin perch!
    Stop Independents! Stop, I say !
    You mean to fight—to run away;
    The British Thunder you defy,
    And right of Parliament deny;.
    Revile the kind Peace making Gage,*
    "Who with great Prudence would assuage
    The fires lit up by H—k's Rage,**
    Which unto civil Wars must tend,
    Unless the Olive Branch we send
    To gen'rous Britain your best Friend.
    Stop, Independents, stop, I say!
    Attend to my instructive Lay!
    Fysham must swing on yonder Tree***
    —Dear Friends, an Englishman you'll see,
    Traytor to his King and Country!
    With Rope adorn'd on gallows high,
    He'll kick in Air, in Company
    With the Pennsylvan Farmer John,****
    And Charley T—, a Rebel Son,*****
    For Crime by Statute called Treason,
    Which they committed without Reason
    Well read in Law John seem'd—Oh, Shame!
    Not so was it with poor Fysham!
    For ignorant, alas, was he,
    Ignorant as e'er Man could be!
    (Ignorance, know ye, in Law's no Plea)
    But Farmer John inveigled him,
    And Charles united in the Scheme;
    But Peace the Wight enjoyed_dying_
    Both were by his side a crying,
    When Rope about his Neck was fix't,--
    He clearly saw they would be next
    Tuck't up aloft on self-same Tree,
    That he, alas, must hanged be!
    View, Friends, this sad Catastrophe,
    Three Rebels hanging on one Tree—
    Dead as Door Nails—hung for Treason,
    Which they committed out of Season,—
    Lives lost—Estates confiscated—
    Their Fam' lies left discomfited,—
    A horrid Scene, a dismal ditty—
    Good lack-a-day--what a Pity!
    Poor Fysham formly, we' re told,
    Sold goods to France for Sake of gold,
    ‘Tis true be did, in Time of War,
    Yet he escaped from Rope or Tar;
    But he's o'ertak' n, Hemp has reach' d him—
    For old sin his, weight has stretch'd him.—
    View, my Readers, this sad Picture!
    Hang they will your Gen'ral Stricture.
    Unnat' ral Deaths some Folks must dye,
    Sic transit gloria mundi.
    Ah, me! Deluded, hoodwink'd Cits,
    Rouse from your Sleep, resume your Wits!
    Honor the King, obey my Laws!
    Don't forfeit Life and Lands for Straws!
    Had those mad Bandits been discreet,
    They ne'er had stretch'd in hempen Sheet

    From the Temple of Liberty "January 7th, 1775."

    *General Gage, commander of the British forces in America.
    **John Hancock.
    ***Captain William Heysham, member of Fort Saint David Society (State in Schuylkill, page 402); also Hiltzheimer, page 26; also Directory, signed Non-Importation Resolutions, member of the City Committee of Correspondence.
    ****John Dickinson, author of the "Farmer's Letters."
    *****Charles Thomson, Secretary of Congress.

    To Whom the Buckskins of Pennsylvania not so humbly reply:
    Kawanio Che Keeteru!

  2. Meanwhile, in the Bucksin's camp twas heard:

    "Of St. George or St. Bute, let the poet laureat sing,
    Of Pharaoh or Pluto of old,
    While he rimes forth their praise, in false flattering lays,
    I'll sing of St. Tamm'ny the bold, my brave boys.
    Let Hibernia's sons boast, make Patrick their toast,
    And Scots Andrew's fame spread abroad,
    Potatoes and oates and Welch Leeks, for Welch goats,
    Was never St. Tammany's food, my brave boys.
    In freedom's bright cause, Tammany pled with applause,
    And reason'd most justly from nature;
    For this, this was his song, all, all the day long,
    Liberty's the right of each creature, brave boys.
    Whilst under an oak his great parliament sat,
    His throne was the crotch of the tree,
    With Solomon's look, without statutes or book,
    He wisely sent forth his decree, my brave boys.
    His subjects stood round, not the least noise or sound,
    Whilst freedom blaz'd full in each face;
    So plain were the laws, and each pleaded his cause,
    That might Bute, North and Mansfield disgrace, my brave boys.
    No duties nor stamps, their blest liberty cramps,
    A King, tho' no tyrant was he;
    He did oft' times declare, nay sometimes would swear,
    The least of his subjects were free, my brave boys.
    He, as King of the woods, of the rivers and floods,
    Had a right all beasts to control;
    Yet content with a few, to give nature her due,
    So gen'rous was Tammany's soul! my brave boys.
    In the morn he arose, and a hunting he goes,
    Bold Nimrod his second, was he;
    For his breakfast he'd take a large venison stake,
    And dispis'd your flip-flops and tea, my brave boys.
    While all in a row, with squaw, dog and b__,
    Vermilion adorning his face;
    With feathery head he rang' d the woods wide,
    Sure St. George had never such grace, my brave boys:
    His jetty black hair, such as Buckskin saints wear,
    Perfumed with bear's grease well smear'd,
    Which illum'd the saint's face, and ran down apace,
    Like the oil from off Aaron's beard, my brave boys.
    The strong nervous deer, with amazing career,
    In swiftness he'd fairly run down,
    And, like Sampson, wou'd tear wolf, lion or bear;
    Ne'er was such a saint as our own, my brave boys.
    When he'd run down a stag, he behind him wou'd lag,
    For so noble a soul had he!
    H'd stop, tho' he lost it, tradition reports it,
    To give him fresh chance to get free, my brave boys.
    From his quiver he drew forth an arrow so keen,
    And seiz'd fast his imperial bow;
    It flew straight to the heart, like an Israelite dart;
    Could St. Andrew ever do so, my brave boys?
    With a mighty strong aim, and a masculine bow,
    His arrow he drew to the head,
    And as sure as he shot, it was ever his lot,
    His prey it fell instantly dead, my brave boys.
    His table he spread, where the venison bled;
    Be thankful, he used to say;
    He'd laugh and he'd sing, tho' a saint and a king,
    And sumptuously dine on his prey, my brave boys.
    Then over the hills, o'er the mountains and rills,
    He'd caper, such was his delight;
    And ne'er in his days, Indian history says,
    Did lack a good Supper at night, my brave boys.
    On an old stump he sat, without cap or hat,
    When Supper was ready to eat;
    Snap his dog, he stood by, and cast a sheep's eye,
    For venison's the king of all meat, my brave boys.
    Like Isaac of old, and both cast in one mould,
    Tho' a wigwam was Tamm'ny's cottage,
    He lov'd sav'ry meat, such that patriarch eat;
    Of ven'son and squirrel made pottage, my brave boys.

    * * * *

  3. As old age came on, he grew blind, deaf and dumb,
    Tho' his sport ‘twere hard to keep from it,
    Quite tired of life, bid adieu to his wife,
    And blaz' d like the tail of a comit, my brave boys.
    What country on earth, then did ever give birth,
    To such a magnanimous saint?
    His acts far excel all that history tell,
    And language too feeble to paint, my brave boys.
    Now to finish my song, a full flowing bowl;
    I'll quaff' and sing the long day,
    And with punch and wine paint my cheeks for my saint,
    And hail ev'ry first of Sweet May, my brave boys."

    "The First of May, A new Song in Praise of St. Tammany, the American Saint—
    "Tune, The hounds are all out &c.

  4. FJ,
    Today is the day that you sing "your" song.

    I'd forgotten until now. My schedule has overwhelmed me.

  5. http://blogbursttuesday.blogspot.com/

    AOW: Look what I found. In re to the guy I asked you and Beak about in the post on your anniversary, I remember it was PAPA FRANKS and if you Google "Papa Franks Blog", you can find him, but a huge pop up takes over ...you see his blog for a split second and then the pop up with apparently no way to stop it....I tried ten times...no way to delete/cancel the pop up to read Franks.....darn!

    1. I don't have any problem using Safari but the blog is about six years old.

    2. Z,
      Papa Frank quit blogging, didn't he?

      The animated banner at Blog Burst Thursday must have been created by Warren.

      Those were the days, huh?

  6. Duck,
    Thank you for the interview today. We spent a lot of time talking about Baltimore -- a lot of that wandering my fault because Baltimore is so close to where Mr. AOW and I live.

    Next time, maybe we can focus more on the war movies. I'll try to think of some other war movies that impacted me on several levels -- besides Full Metal Jacket, I mean.

    I'm not sure that I'll ever get over Full Metal Jacket, which I didn't see until about 5 years ago.

    1. Goes to show how much Baltimore is on everyone's mind.
      The tragedy is that it took violence to elevate the issue.

      Since you've never seen The Wire

    2. If you want a film that is tough to shake there was a husband and wife team in Russia that did two about the Germen withdrawal from Belarus.
      Larisa Shepitko, Ascent. Very heavy of Christian symbolism.

      She only made two films and she and her film crew died in a car accident.

      Her husband, Elam Klimov took up the them in Come and See (quoting Revelations) and it is considred by some to be the most devasting film ever made.

  7. War Movies. Here is a Great new one. The REAL story of Vietnam.

  8. I still favor Since you Went Away, Watch on the Rhine, Three Came Home, The Best Years of Our Lives, Mrs. Miniver, and Joan of Paris and THe Young Lions

    Anything made since Vietnam took center stage is perverse, enervating,degenerate, demoralizing pointedly anti-American trash.

    1. This comment has been removed by the author.

    2. FT, I love LOVE LOVE the films you mentioned.....the last two, not so much, but the first bunch? INCREDIBLE.
      I hate to admit I am so partial to black/white films it's ridiculous.
      The color stuff from the Fifties is almost impossible for me to watch.

      Destination Tokyo's one of my top films...and To Kill A Mockingbird is the film I call "PERFECT in EVERY WAY..." cinematography, music, acting, story, ... everything.

      I am not a Brando fan and I just Googled and found he is in The Young Lions. So, that's a 'no' for me. BUT, I Googled Joan of Paris and am astonished to find there's actually a film I haven't heard of (smile).
      I told Orson Bean I was having trouble finding old films on Netflix that I hadn't seen and he said "you need a life"!! I assured him I'd lived quite a full life AND seen many films multiple times :

      By the way, The Women is a favorite of mine, too. Actually, anything IRENE DUNNE. Orson always introduces himself as Irene Dunne when he speaks :-)

  9. FT,
    I don't know all of those films. But I must say that I have watched Three Came Home, The Best Years of Our Lives, Mrs. Miniver, and The Young Lions. Each of those clearly has something of value to offer.


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