Going Out in Style

The first background for J'Accuse was a lighthouse. The outlook was as yet unclear and the venture was into the unknown. The first conclusions are that the net and its people might be more technological and more prone to set out their thoughts on paper. The second, more bleak outlook is that the thinking waves are not much different. The nonconformist in me still does not feel at home, nor does the misanthropist to boot. The comedian enjoys it most of the time and the critic might find it relieving to vent his anger at the general feeling of ignorance.

Net rings, net cliques and net prejudices replace those in real life, and the saddest point of it all is that I find it reflected tenfold among my compatriots. So this, the last post for J'Accuse will be a bleak one. 150 readers a day and still nowhere to go. Still trying to understand what creates this impulse to write more, more, more. I will end the year with one of my favourite poems by Robert Louis Stevenson while wishing you all to "Choose Life", and remember... "You are not a beautiful and unique snowflake".

THE VAGABOND

Give to me the life I love,
Let the lave go by me,
Give the jolly heaven above
And the byway nigh me.
Bed in the bush with stars to see,
Bread I dip in the river -
There's the life for a man like me,
There's the life for ever.

Let the blow fall soon or late,
Let what will be o'er me;
Give the face of earth around
And the road before me.
Wealth I seek not, hope nor love,
Nor a friend to know me;
All I seek, the heaven above
And the road below me.

Or let autumn fall on me
Where afield I linger,
Silencing the bird on tree,
Biting the blue finger.
White as meal the frosty field -
Warm the fireside haven -
Not to autumn will I yield,
Not to winter even!

Let the blow fall soon or late,
Let what will be o'er me;
Give the face of earth around,
And the road before me.
Wealth I ask not, hope nor love,
Nor a friend to know me;
All I ask, the heaven above
And the road below me.