Only a private killed

Wars of America Memorial -- Military Park, Newark, NJ

Only A Private Killed - Hanford Lennox Gordon

"We've had a brush," the Captain said,

"And Rebel blood we've spilled;

We came off victors with the loss

Of only a private killed."

"Ah," said the orderly "it was hot,"

Then he breathed a heavy breath

"Poor fellow! he was badly shot,

Then bayoneted to death."

And now was hushed the martial din;

The saucy foe had fled;

They brought the private's body in;

I went to see the dead;

For I could not think our Rebel foes

So valiant in the van

So boastful of their chivalry

Could kill a wounded man.

A musket ball had pierced his thigh

A frightful, crushing wound

And then with savage bayonets

They pinned him to the ground.

One deadly thrust drove through the heart,

Another through the head;

Three times they stabbed his pulseless breast

When he lay cold and dead.

His hair was matted with his gore,

His hands were clinched with might,

As if he still his musket bore

So firmly in the fight.

He had grasped the foemen's bayonets

Their murderous thrusts to fend:

They raised the coat-cape from his face,

And lo it was my friend!

Think what a shudder chilled my heart!

'Twas but the day before

We laughed together merrily,

As we talked of days of yore.

"How happy we shall be," he said,

"When the war is o'er, and when

With victory's song and victory's tread

We all march home again."

Ah little he dreamed that soldier brave

So near his journey's goal

How soon a heavenly messenger

Would claim his Christian soul.

But he fell like a hero fighting,

And hearts with grief are filled;

And honor is his, tho' the Captain says

"Only a private killed."

I knew him well, he was my friend;

He loved our land and laws,

And he fell a blessed martyr

To our Country's holy cause;

And I know a cottage in the West

Where eyes with tears are filled

As they read the careless telegram

"Only a private killed."

Comrades, bury him under the oak,

Wrapped in his army-blue;

He is done with the battle's din and smoke,

With drill and the proud review.

And the time will come ere long, perchance,

When our blood will thus be spilled,

And what care we if the Captain say

"Only a private killed."

For the glorious Old Flag beckons.

We have pledged her heart and hand,

And we'll brave even death to rescue

Our dear old Fatherland.

We ask not praise nor honors,

Then as each grave is filled

What care we if the Captain say

"Only a private killed." 

 

On the Sunny Side of the Street

Get ready for an illuminated weekend with The Sweatin' Cats Trio.

The inner workings of Big Ben

Keita Morimoto

Click any image to enlarge

Previously I featured the nocturnal paintings by the English Victorian painter John Atkinson Grimshaw. These paintings, most set in an urban nighttime setting are by the contemporary Japanese/Canadian artist Keita Morimoto. There are more after the jump, and many more at his website. 

Keita Morimoto self-portrait

Money for Nothing

Get ready for a laborious weekend with Amir Darzi and Lital Regev.

 

Making cricket tennis balls

Above is yet another video of a small business in India. This one is making tennis balls for cricket games. The place looks like an industrial accident, or rather several industrial accidents a day, in the offing. An OSHA inspector would slip into a catatonic trance from the shock of inspecting this place.

I did look up their Power Plus balls on the internet and found Fairo, a Pakistani online shop that sold them. One ball went for 75 Rupees, which is 97 cents. 

All I know about cricket is they pitch the ball oddly, their bats look like paddles and the word wicket has something to do with it, so I looked up a video to explain cricket which I posted below. Ehhh... I still need to do more research to make sense out of the sport. I end with a video of cricket highlights.

The holocaust of memory

Old soldiers toast their glory years
(click image to enlarge)

Odysseus inclines his head. "True. But fame is a strange thing. Some men gain glory after they die, while others fade. What is admired in one generation is abhorred in another." He spread his broad hands. "We cannot say who will survive the holocaust of memory. Who knows?" He smiles. "Perhaps one day even I will be famous. Perhaps more famous than you.” ― Madeline Miller 

  

Paint it, Black

Get ready for a caliginous weekend with Meep Moop.

  

Blackboards

Click any image to enlarge

Blackboards, or chalkboards as they are sometimes called, used to ubiquitous in classrooms. They've since been largely replaced; first by whiteboards, and later by projectors and screens. They've been relegated to the realm of history now. Without reference, I wonder what a young person makes of the expression 'like fingernails on chalkboards'?

As an aside, when I started teaching my first classroom was one of the few on campus that still had blackboards. Eventually it got upgraded to a whiteboard. However, even though I would end up covered in chalk dust at the end of a lecture, I preferred the blackboard. It is hard to explain, but I felt I had much more granular control over how I wrote things on the blackboard.

Happy Mother's Day

From Noble Works Cards

Every mother is like Moses. She does not enter the promised land.
She prepares a world she will not see. - Pope Paul VI

  

I’m Only Sleeping

Get ready for a somnolent weekend with Ashutosh Kale. 

 

Walking in Quezon City and Matilao

Above is walk in the Quezon City which is part of metro Manila. It's a walk on side streets, alleys, and what can only be called footpaths between buildings. It is uncaptioned, with the conversations in Tagalog, but you can tell the people are friendly as they interact with our walker. 

What stood out to me was the enormous number of political campaign posters plastered everywhere, with a fair number of women candidates running for office. That got me thinking... is an Asian upper-middle-class Karen more, or less, terrifying than your average American cul-de-sac dwelling, wine swilling Karen? 

Aside from that the number of kids running around was striking. It looks like a lot of free-range parenting is taking place. Also, the haphazard way the powerlines were strung was more than a little alarming looking.

Below is a video by a different walker, this of Marilao. It appears to be a bit more upscale of a neighborhood, with many buildings painted so it not quite so relentlessly chromatically gray. The area is also looks generally better maintained. He starts in the side streets and alleys, but eventually comes to a large open-air market.

Happy May Day Comrades

It is time to once again celebrate that most sacred of all days -- May Day! A day when us workers of the world can bask in the joys of marching towards a brighter socialist future! Sure, we have to wend our way past piles of wrecker, hoarder and kulak corpses, but, after all, that is a small price to pay for the birth of the New Soviet Man! 

Naturally, as I am sure it is with you, tops on my bucket list for a May Day celebration destination is the Rungra People's Pleasure Ground in Pyongyang, North Korea! As shown in the video above is features a world-class miniature golf course, water and amusement parks, as well as the splendid dolphanarium! Fun! Fun! Fun!!!  

Who would not dream of going there!?