Yeats: Foresight

Ah, William Butler Yeats. Ireland's greatest son, indeed. How we miss you, and your incredible foresight:

Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all convictions, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity...

Of course, Yeats saw these events as signs of the world's impending end. And who knows? But I prefer to cling to hope.

[For those of you who are still utterly perplexed by this post - and I realize it's rather obtuse - you might want to read Belmont Club on Steven Den Beste's temporary return, and futher, this comment on the subject. If you're still confused, leave a comment and I'll try to clarify.]
-- posted by Austin @ 5:36 PM (PermaLink/Comment) ¶