As for Mullins, he went to the Library of Congress to do research. I’ve never been there, but I understand it’s a behemoth.
He needed obscure documents the librarians had never heard of. In the end they had to let him in the stack room, off-limits to the public under normal circumstances.
He eventually found the documents. Mullins told me, angels helped him in his research. He never made it public but angels always helped him, even to evade assassins, who eventually gave up.
Number 12 is pretty accurate in terms of what is happening now.
Having survived an insane asylum for 13 years is no small feat in of itself! 
Life there probably wasn’t bad. A few of his fans, including Mullins, visited him there on a regular basis.
I saw a photo. It was like a living room. But Pound wasn’t allowed to leave the compound which must suck.
What is interesting about this presentation is the irony of the socialists of the 50’s and their failures enabled them to hide behind the paradigm of “Post Modernism” and call themselves Linguistics Experts, Critical Theory professors, or Cultural Studies experts as well. In essence they were later to be understood as frauds perpetuating the cultural Marxism brand that was designed to infiltrate every institution from within and collapse such nation states that adhere to certain values which is antithetical to the dogma of communistic ideologies.
This guy sums up exactly that in this short video word for word and theory for theory!
You know, equality is the hallmark of sheep, sheeple or slaves.
“All men are created equal” is not in the US Constitution, is it?
The battle cry during the French Revolution “liberty, equality, fraternity” along with the tricolor flag is straight from the Masonic dogma.
I believe it is! " Unalienable Rights
This was worth posting here. There is still hope in humanity after all!
A sweet lesson on patience.
A NYC Taxi driver wrote:
I arrived at the address and honked the horn. After waiting a few minutes I honked again. Since this was going to be my last ride of my shift I thought about just driving away, but instead I put the car in park and walked up to the door and knocked… ‘Just a minute’, answered a frail, elderly voice. I could hear something being dragged across the floor.
After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 90’s stood before me. She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like somebody out of a 1940’s movie.
By her side was a small nylon suitcase. The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with sheets.
There were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or utensils on the counters. In the corner was a cardboard
box filled with photos and glassware.‘Would you carry my bag out to the car?’ she said. I took the suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the woman.
She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the curb.
She kept thanking me for my kindness. ‘It’s nothing’, I told her… ‘I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother to be treated.’
'Oh, you’re such a good boy, she said. When we got in the cab, she gave me an address and then asked, ‘Could you drive
through downtown?’‘It’s not the shortest way,’ I answered quickly…
‘Oh, I don’t mind,’ she said. 'I’m in no hurry. I’m on my way to a hospice.
I looked in the rear-view mirror. Her eyes were glistening. ‘I don’t have any family left,’ she continued in a soft voice…‘The doctor says I don’t have very long.’ I quietly reached over and shut off the meter.
‘What route would you like me to take?’ I asked.
For the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she had once worked as an elevator operator.
We drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived when they were newlyweds She had me pull up in front of a furniture warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl.
Sometimes she’d ask me to slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing.
As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said, ‘I’m tired. Let’s go now’.
We drove in silence to the address she had given me. It was a low building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway that passed under a portico.Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up. They were solicitous and intent, watching her every move.
They must have been expecting her.I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door. The woman was already seated in a wheelchair.
‘How much do I owe you?’ She asked, reaching into her purse.
‘Nothing,’ I said
‘You have to make a living,’ she answered.
‘There are other passengers,’ I responded.
Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug.She held onto me tightly.
‘You gave an old woman a little moment of joy,’ she said. ‘Thank you.’
I squeezed her hand, and then walked into the dim morning light… Behind me, a door shut. It was the sound of the closing of a life…
I didn’t pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove aimlessly lost in thought. For the rest of that day, I could hardly talk.What if that woman had gotten an angry driver,or one who was impatient to end his shift? What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked once, then driven away?
On a quick review, I don’t think that I have done anything more important in my life.
We’re conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments.
But great moments often catch us unaware-beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one.
I might have gotten a little misty reading that. 
Ancient Greeks were onto something. Plato, who coined the word “philosophy” (meaning, love of wisdom), taught reincarnation and said: the purpose of philosophy is to recall what we learned in previous lives and then forgot.
So philosophy by Plato’s definition seems like a meditation technique of sorts…
Single most important Orwellian idea? NEWSPEAK. Reality is downstream from language. The most insidious communist victory has been brute forcing words like sexist and racist into the collective mind
Since Man is the Ape That Talks, POWER is nothing but triggering submission with verbal accusations like “transphobic”
How do you fight 175 million scholarly abstracts all flowing in one direction? With stickier phrases. Fresh zingers. A new language that pushes against the garbage status quo
Archimedes said: “Give me a lever long enough and a fulcrum on which to place it, and I shall move the world.”
The world, alas, is more Power and Less Physics. A truer statement would go something like this:
“Give me a metaphor strong enough and a mic from which to scream it, and I shall move the world.”
8 Books To Become Smart As James Bond.
3. Focus by Daniel Goleman
Never forget Ezra Pound. Probably he was the greatest literary figure in America.
