The Ghost Of Anakin Skywalker

I like Films, Reading, Writing, Poetry, Girls, Music, Food & Liquor

Mistah Kurtz—he dead.

A penny for the Old Guy

I
We are the hollow men
We are the stuffed men
Leaning together
Headpiece filled with straw. Alas!
Our dried voices, when
We whisper together
Are quiet and meaningless
As wind in dry grass
Or rats’ feet over broken glass
In our dry cellar

Shape without form, shade without colour,
Paralysed force, gesture without motion;

Those who have crossed
With direct eyes, to death’s other Kingdom
Remember us—if at all—not as lost
Violent souls, but only
As the hollow men
The stuffed men.

II
Eyes I dare not meet in dreams
In death’s dream kingdom
These do not appear:
There, the eyes are
Sunlight on a broken column
There, is a tree swinging
And voices are
In the wind’s singing
More distant and more solemn
Than a fading star.

Let me be no nearer
In death’s dream kingdom
Let me also wear
Such deliberate disguises
Rat’s coat, crowskin, crossed staves
In a field
Behaving as the wind behaves
No nearer—

Not that final meeting
In the twilight kingdom

III
This is the dead land
This is cactus land
Here the stone images
Are raised, here they receive
The supplication of a dead man’s hand
Under the twinkle of a fading star.

Is it like this
In death’s other kingdom
Waking alone
At the hour when we are
Trembling with tenderness
Lips that would kiss
Form prayers to broken stone.

IV
The eyes are not here
There are no eyes here
In this valley of dying stars
In this hollow valley
This broken jaw of our lost kingdoms

In this last of meeting places
We grope together
And avoid speech
Gathered on this beach of the tumid river

Sightless, unless
The eyes reappear
As the perpetual star
Multifoliate rose
Of death’s twilight kingdom
The hope only
Of empty men.

V
Here we go round the prickly pear
Prickly pear prickly pear
Here we go round the prickly pear
At five o’clock in the morning.

Between the idea
And the reality
Between the motion
And the act
Falls the Shadow
For Thine is the Kingdom

Between the conception
And the creation
Between the emotion
And the response
Falls the Shadow
Life is very long

Between the desire
And the spasm
Between the potency
And the existence
Between the essence
And the descent
Falls the Shadow
For Thine is the Kingdom

For Thine is
Life is
For Thine is the

This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper.

—T.S. Eliot, The Hollow Men (via the-ghost-of-anakin-skywalker)

rafi-dangelo:

We’re not people really.  Our concerns are not America’s concerns.  We are just here for entertainment. We’re a convenient treasure trove of limitless creativity to be pillaged, watered down, and re-purposed for White audiences and the people getting rich from bastardized stereotypes and simplified caricatures of everything we bring to the table have nothing to say when shit gets really real.

(via jesusworeakanyepiece)

kickoffcoverage:

ROBIN WILLIAMS TIME AS A BRONCOS CHEERLEADER

On Monday we all received terrible news that we didn’t want to hear. Famed actor/comedian Robin Williams died Monday morning. While he will forever be known as the hyper-comedic specialist that made us laugh in movies like Good Morning Vietnam and Mrs. Doubtfire, he was also a great dramatic actor. But my all-time favorite character of Williams’ will always be Mork of “Mork and Mindy.”

So here’s, a fond farewell to Williams, who once dressed as a Broncos cheerleader on “Mork and Mindy” and made us laugh for so very long. Today, we cry in his honor and for our loss. RIP Robin Williams. Thank you for all the laughter and good times.

H/T CBS Sports

(via maroon-bells)