Showing posts with label Kipling. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Kipling. Show all posts

Thursday, 13 August 2009

Tanstaafl 1919


The Gods of the Copybook Headings

by Rudyard Kipling



As I pass through my incarnations in every age and race,
I make my proper prostrations to the Gods of the Market Place.
Peering through reverent fingers I watch them flourish and fall,
And the Gods of the Copybook Headings, I notice, outlast them all.

We were living in trees when they met us. They showed us each in turn
That Water would certainly wet us, as Fire would certainly burn:
But we found them lacking in Uplift, Vision and Breadth of Mind,
So we left them to teach the Gorillas while we followed the March of Mankind.

We moved as the Spirit listed. They never altered their pace,
Being neither cloud nor wind-borne like the Gods of the Market Place;
But they always caught up with our progress, and presently word would come
That a tribe had been wiped off its icefield, or the lights had gone out in Rome.

With the Hopes that our World is built on they were utterly out of touch,
They denied that the Moon was Stilton; they denied she was even Dutch;
They denied that Wishes were Horses; they denied that a Pig had Wings;
So we worshipped the Gods of the Market Who promised these beautiful things.

When the Cambrian measures were forming, They promised perpetual peace.
They swore, if we gave them our weapons, that the wars of the tribes would cease.
But when we disarmed They sold us and delivered us bound to our foe,
And the Gods of the Copybook Headings said: "Stick to the Devil you know."

On the first Feminian Sandstones we were promised the Fuller Life
(Which started by loving our neighbour and ended by loving his wife)
Till our women had no more children and the men lost reason and faith,
And the Gods of the Copybook Headings said: "The Wages of Sin is Death."

In the Carboniferous Epoch we were promised abundance for all,
By robbing selected Peter to pay for collective Paul;
But, though we had plenty of money, there was nothing our money could buy,
And the Gods of the Copybook Headings said: "If you don't work you die."

Then the Gods of the Market tumbled, and their smooth-tongued wizards withdrew
And the hearts of the meanest were humbled and began to believe it was true
That All is not Gold that Glitters, and Two and Two make Four—
And the Gods of the Copybook Headings limped up to explain it once more.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

As it will be in the future, it was at the birth of Man—
There are only four things certain since Social Progress began:—
That the Dog returns to his Vomit and the Sow returns to her Mire,
And the burnt Fool's bandaged finger goes wabbling back to the Fire;

And that after this is accomplished, and the brave new world begins
When all men are paid for existing and no man must pay for his sins,
As surely as Water will wet us, as surely as Fire will bum,
The Gods of the Copybook Headings with terror and slaughter return!

Wednesday, 3 June 2009

Imagine If


Compare and contrast.



Imagine there's no heaven
It's easy if you try
No hell below us
Above us only sky
Imagine all the people
Living for today...

Imagine there's no countries
It isn't hard to do
Nothing to kill or die for
And no religion too
Imagine all the people
Living life in peace...

You may say I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will be as one

Imagine no possessions
I wonder if you can
No need for greed or hunger
A brotherhood of man
Imagine all the people
Sharing all the world...

You may say I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will live as one.



IF you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: 'Hold on!'

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
' Or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch,
if neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!


I’m sure that the comparison has been made many times before, but if a thing’s good, then why not keep on doing it?


Britain’s favourite song and Britain’s favourite poem are perfect exemplars of the mindsets of liberals compared to conservatives. And also of the moral divide between the liberal elite and the rest of us lowly unenlightened.

I’m sure that you can see what there is to see and what it means, but the taxpayers once forked out considerable sums to teach me to draw useful lessons out of literature, so it’s time for a little pay-back and a chance for me to show off my rusty critical skills.


Compare the will to (fiat) power (let there be light) title of the song to the conditionality of the poem and all its parts. Cause and consequences begin with ‘c.’

Notice also the song’s intention to remake the world – somehow – but the poem’s message that it is people and their virtues, actions and attitudes that make the world.

The song’s all about the lyricist and his feelings but the poem is about helping someone else shift for themselves.

Lennon wished the world was other than it is and deemed it to be wrong by mere assertion, but Kipling chose to enable folk to better fit into it and hence to gain from it by being as good as they can.

Imagine is about hoping for change outside oneself, but If is about holding onto one’s own qualities and strengths.

One work mentions 25 virtues and capacities each of which is carefully set in context, but the other refers to one capacity alone.


I could go on, but that’s what the comments facility is for. Feel free to put the boot in.


But really, which mind-set would you have running a hospital possessed of finite resources and in which your nearest and dearest were being treated?
Who would you have piloting your plane?

Who would you have guarding your homeland and property?


And if it’s difficult on this day to know what to do for the best by family and country - and for folk like me it surely is difficult -then I find Kipling’s great words of great comfort.


Who says the arts can’t inform; both for all time and also for the real and very specific present?

 

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