![]() ![]() His warning is a kind of incantation, meant to ward Story, Garrett’s last volume, published in 1955, and it might almostīe mistaken for poetry. "To thine own self a liberator, to the world an alarming portent,ĭo you know where you are going from here?" You are? "Is it security you want? There is no security at the top of the To Garrett, again, for an explanation, some clue to the mystery of schizoidĪmerica: "How, now, thou American, frustrated crusader, do you know where Of war criminals, can do the Devil’s work and still invoke almighty God. To signify subjugation, can commit war crimes and still call for the prosecution Half-credibly of "liberation" when they mean conquest can say "freedom" Morphs into a grossly misshapen parody of itself. This is what hurts: that the republic shines even as it murders, even as it To his country: "…life is good, be it stubbornly long or suddenly A mortal splendor: meteors are not needed less than mountains: shine, Or the clarity of the poetic vision that let him look down on what was happening – although I can hardly hope to attain the heights of his unique detachment, Out of the mother and through the spring exultances, ripeness and decadence – "I sadly smiling remember that the flower fades to make fruit, But I shall try to take the Olympian attitude of Jeffers I find that its arrival does matter a great deal, like the arrival ofĪn arrow in one’s breast. In the future, and I am glad for Garrett that he did not live to see it, for That moment, as I write, is a matter of hours Moment did not come for another fifty-three years, when day turned to nightĪnd the bombs fell on Baghdad. Peoples’ representatives of their constitutional prerogative. War without the consent of Congress, setting a precedent that would strip the Garrett thought we had crossed the Rubicon back in 1950, when Truman went to May be irreversible.’ And now, not far ahead, is a sign that reads: ‘No U-turns.’" Voice of history was saying: ‘Whether you know it or not, the act of crossing To say: ‘You now are entering Imperium.’ Yet it was a very old road and the If you ask when, the answer is that you cannot make a single stroke betweenĭay and night the precise moment does not matter. "We have crossed the boundary that lies between Republic and Empire. Each were a bit ofīoth, and it was the latter who predicted this day, this hour, half a century Garrett, to start with, the poet and the polemicist. What? For answers I turn to books: Jeffers and Garet The republic that bound its rulers with the chains of the ConstitutionĪnd freed the rest of us to live in peace is no more. The America we loved is lost, perhaps forever. AmericansĪnd Iraqis both will line the bombed out boulevards of Baghdad, shouting "Hail ![]() Will fill the air, drowning out all protests in a roar of approval. Of empires, is now donning the imperial purple, and soon the accolades for Caesar Our old Republic, once the enemy of kings and contemptuous Its entirety yesterday because its author seems to have captured this moment That’s from "Shine, Perishing Republic," which we posted in ![]() Thickening to empire And protest, only a bubble in the molten mass, pops and sighs out, and – Jeffers’ bitterness was turned into a thing of beauty when he put pen to paper: "While this America settles in the mould of its vulgarity, heavily In describing his President, he wrote of "the cripple’s power need of Roosevelt" Time, whose poems echo down through the years like the voice of some forgotten Poet himself: a difficult man, serenely alienated from the world of his Harvest time in Iraq, I think of the poetry of Robinson PleaseĪs the sand in the hourglass runs down, and the Grim Reaper gets ready for Justin is still with us but it is tough going. Sadly, America had fully morphed from Republic to monstrous Justin saw soĬlearly what the war on terror, war(s) in Iraq, and other future conflicts would It is chilling to read and a bit heart-wrenching. – entitled “Shine, Perishing Republic” that we are running itĪgain today. Over 15 years ago, in March 2003 as Iraq War II was cranking up, Justin wroteĪ column so crystalline and poignant in its cry of the heart – and mind ![]()
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