It seems that those spreading panic about Ebola, ISIS and the southern border hope that their new rhetoric will reinvigorate an old tactic: racial dog whistling. It has never been bigotry amid politicians that drives this, so much as the cold calculation that stimulating racial panic can win votes.
[This should be horrifying to all voters, especially here in NH where we have a candidate for Senator who is only running by way of cold calculation. (Can't win in MA, so I'll run in that hick state to the north.) He is now using the old dog whistle, "...we have a border that’s so porous that anyone can walk across it. I think it’s naive to think that people aren’t going to be walking through here who have those types of diseases and/or other types of intent, criminal or terrorist." Save us from the cold, calculating, maniacs who run for office to satisfy their greed and need for power! --KK]
Language is power--we understand that words can move us to tears or laughter, inspire us to great deeds or urge us to mob action. Dictionaries are the democratization of that power, and the more words they contain, the more democratic they are. The dictionary is a gigantic armory and toolbox combined, accessible to all. It reflects our preoccupations, collects our cultural knowledge, and gives us adorable pictures of aardvarks, to boot. And it does all this one word at a time.
Unsustainable consumption, population pressure, poverty and environmental degradation are intricately linked, but this is appreciated neither by development economists, nor by national governments who permit GDP growth to trump environmental protection in their policies.
Toad talked big about all he was going to do in the days to come, while stars grew fuller and larger all around them, and a yellow moon, appearing suddenly and silently from nowhere in particular, came to keep them company and listen to their talk.
I am determined to be cheerful and happy in whatever situation I may find myself. For I have learned that the greater part of our misery or unhappiness is determined not by our circumstance but by our disposition.
One of Scarlatti's compositions bears the title, The Cat's Fugue (at least in modern editions) and the story goes that a stroll on the keyboard by Scarlatti's cat gave the master the subject to the fugue...
~ Carl Van Vechten ~
[I listened to a number of interpretations on YouTube and I found that this one enabled me to visualize the cat on the keyboard. --KK]
The mind wraps itself around a poem. It is almost sensual, particularly if you work on a computer. You can turn the poem round and about and upside down, dancing with it a kind of bolero of two snakes twisting and coiling, until the poem has found its right and proper shape.