The Poison Tree

by William Blake

I was angry with my friend:
I told my wrath, my wrath did end.
I was angry with my foe;
I told it not, my wrath did grow.

And I water'd it in fears,
Night & morning with my tears;
And I sunned it with my smiles
And with soft deceitful wiles.

And it grew both day and night,
Till it bore an apple bright;
And my foe beheld it shine,
And he knew that it was mine,

And into my garden stole
When the night had veil'd the pole:
In the morning glad I see
My foe outstretch'd beneath the tree

Only one person dies...

"... the Mishnah declares that, for the Justice of God, he who kills a single man destroys the world; if there is no plurality, he who annihilated all men would be no more guilty than the primitive and solitary Cain, which is orthodox, no more universal in his destruction, which can be magic. The tumultuous general catastrophes – fires, wars, epidemics – are but a single sorrow, illusorily multiplied in many mirrors. That is Bernard Shaw’s judgment when he states (Guide to Socialism, 86) that what one person can suffer is the maximum that can be suffered on earth. If one person dies of inanition, he has suffered all the inanition that has been or will be. If ten thousand persons die with him, he will not be ten thousand times hungrier nor will he suffer ten thousand times longer. There is no point in being overwhelmed by the appalling total of human suffering; such a total does not exist. Neither poverty nor pain is accumulable.”

Jorge Luis Borges, Other Inquisitions. 1937-1952. p178, “the Modesty of History.”

the full text

What one man does is something done, in some measure, by all men...

Summer Swallows

It's been a long day, a busy day, moving sheep and checking troughs, inspecting fences. We drenched two mobs of big, headstrong wethers. Hard work on a hot day. At the end the dusk comes very slowly, the heat sitting in the hollow, the sky turning orange like the underbelly of the swallows.
Swallows nest on the metal girders of the machinery shed. Swarms of them swoop in and out through the open front side of the shed catching insects abundent in the gloaming; their darts are a pure, sharply precise cutting of the air. My brother winds down after the long day shooting them with the air rifle. He is quite an accurate shot. The roof and tops of the walls of the shed are speckled with dozens of feathery, bloody slpodges. He knocks down their nests, too, until dad gets annoyed with the mess of the nests falling on the vehicles parked underneath.

http://www.ekosystem.org/

I want you - live

Oh no, my darling, not with that clown!

I'm gonna say it one more time, til I instill it...

I know I'm going to feel this way, until you kill it.

Fuck, ey?

My dog doesn't work.

I leave the mobile phone charging on a shelf in the kitchen where I keep pills and salt and stuff, and eggs which I like at room temperature, because its a convenient powerpoint and doesn't get in the way of much. Normally when it rings I think to disconnect it first, but I was in a rush just now when it rang, and forgot to unplug it so of course pulled everything down, including the box of eggs. The eggs hit the corner of the antique dresser - I'm house-sitting - but only one broke, so not too much damage; I'll get the dog to lick that up.
"Yoshi, come here! Come on little dog, another breakfast for you! " Yummy egg, what dog could resist?

This dog! she cautiously approach, had a sniff, looked at me slightly offended, and went back into the kitchen to sit on her haunches, saying "I thought there was some food for me."
The egg dropped and broken into the wheel-foot coaster started to soak into the carpet, the deep-pile cream-coloured carpet.

"Come on! It's egg. Yum. Here, I'll show you..." Nope, not interested.

In lots of ways having a nervous minature is slightly annoying but quirky, like when she needs to climb on my shoulder to escape bigger dogs that scare her at the dog beach - like miniature foxies and those savage silky terriers. It's kinda cute. She has such delicate little feet and is so pretty. And most people aren't too scared when she comes racing out onto the street to bark like crazy with her hackles up.

But not eating eggs is really just taking the whole delicate thing a bit far.
This dog just doesn't work properly, and I'm wondering if she's still under warranty.