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History repeats itself. Historians repeat each other.

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History Never Repeats (feat. Neil & Tim Finn)

History never repeats
I tell myself before I go to sleep
Don't say the words you might regret
I lost before, you know I can't forget
There was a girl I used to know
She dealt my love a savage blow
I was so young, too blind to see
But anyway, that's history
And I say, history never repeats
I tell myself before I go to sleep
And there's a light shining in the dark
Leading me on towards a change of heart
You say I always play the fool
I can't go on if that's the rule
Better to jump than hesitate
I need a change and I can't wait
I say, history never repeats
I tell myself before I go to sleep
And there's a light shining in the dark
Leading me on towards a change of heart
Never repeats, whoa, oh
History never repeats (x2)
Deep in the night it's all so clear
I lie awake with great ideas
Looking about in no man's land
I think at last I understand
History never repeats
I tell myself before I go to sleep
And there's a light shining in the dark
Leading me on towards a change of heart
Ahhh

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Defining History

DEFINING HISTORY *

History is neither for us nor against us;
It is a record of our accumulating past!
That past which we humans had once made,
And we can learn from our mistakes, it is often
said!
A wit had once put things together, saying; -
'History dose not repeat itself, only historians
repeat each other! ! '

'Civilization is a movement and not a condition,
a voyage, not a harbour, ' said Arnold Toynbee;
'It has the right and the capacity to choose its destiny! '
But many others did not seem to agree!
The early Mayans said that History repeats itself in
every 260 cyclic years,
History is not cyclic said Tonybee, to allay our fears!
The Greek Plato had felt that History was rather cynical;
While Oswald Spengler the German, had similar
views held!
Spengler said that all things that grow, must mature,
decay and decline;
The Western Civilization was no exception of any
kind!
But Carrol Quigley, a scientist by training, could not
accept any of the above views!
And in his 'The Evolution of Civilisation ', he pays
History its dues!
Quigley attempts to create an acceptable synthesis,
Which the critics praised with positive comments!
Quigley advocated that systems come into being
adapted to their environment;
Which changes and evolves with a gradual motion,
While he has laid down the seven stages of this
evolution! **
And he concludes by declaring with some flourish,
That those civilizations which cannot adapt to such
changes, -
Will one day perish!
- Raj Nandy
New Delhi
31 Aug 08
(* I tried to pay my tribute to three of our greatest Historians, -
being an old student of History. Spengler is unpopular in the
West.
** Mixture, Gestation, Expansion, Age of Conflict, Universal Empire,
Decay and Invasion.)

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The History Of Tomorrow

I want to tell you the history of tomorrow
It’s the history of how our leaders fulfilled a promise of light
By dumping us in the dark with pits everywhere

I want to tell you the history of tomorrow
It’s the history of how our leaders fulfilled a promise of food
By asking us to chop several fire-woods to heat up a pot full of stones

I want to tell you the history of tomorrow
It’s the history of how our leaders fulfilled a promise of job creation
By making us slaves on our own soil

I want to tell you the history of tomorrow
It’s the history of how our leaders fulfilled a promise of education
By dumping us in dilapidated buildings without teachers

I want to tell you the history of tomorrow
It’s the history of how our leaders fulfilled a promise of accountability
By looting our treasury and asking us for yet another term in office

I want to tell you the history of tomorrow
It’s the history of how our leaders fulfilled a promise of safety
By leaving pot holes large enough to swallow countless accident victims on our roads

I want to tell you the history of tomorrow
It’s the history of how our bows and arrows
Would secure our future

I want to tell you the history of tomorrow
It’s the history of a country, a country with countless heroes
It’s the history of a country, a country with countless robbers
Robbers with fame
Robbers without shame
Robbers that we would roast with flame

© Adegbenro Adekunle Jacob

Tomorrow’s history is today. All world leaders must make real democracy work. They must be selfless. We must not wait until there is horror and terror before we learn. Nigerian leaders must shun CORRUPTION.

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Tom Zart's 52 Best Of The Rest America At War Poems

SONS AND DAUGHTERS OF WORLD WAR III

The White House
Washington
Tom Zart's Poems


March 16,2007
Ms. Lillian Cauldwell
President and Chief Executive Officer
Passionate Internet Voices Radio
Ann Arbor Michigan

Dear Lillian:
Number 41 passed on the CDs from Tom Zart. Thank you for thinking of me. I am thankful for your efforts to honor our brave military personnel and their families. America owes these courageous men and women a debt of gratitude, and I am honored to be the commander in chief of the greatest force for freedom in the history of the world.
Best Wishes.

Sincerely,

George W. Bush


SONS AND DAUGHTERS OF WORLD WAR III


Our sons and daughters serve in harm's way
To defend our way of life.
Some are students, some grandparents
Many a husband or wife.

They face great odds without complaint
Gambling life and limb for little pay.
So far away from all they love
Fight our soldiers for whom we pray.

The plotters and planners of America's doom
Pledge to murder and maim all they can.
From early childhood they are taught
To kill is to become a man.

They exploit their young as weapons of choice
Teaching in heaven, virgins will await.
Destroying lives along with their own
To learn of their falsehoods too late.

The fearful cry we must submit
And find a way to soothe them.
Where defenders worry if we stand down
The future for America is grim.

[...] Read more

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On Passing Cromwell Street

In Melbourne streets named in his honour though he does not warrant such fame
For he lived a life of dishonour yet he never felt any shame
For his crimes against the poor of Ireland the winners write the history they say
And historians are too kind to Cromwell the one who did awful things in his day.

He evicted the poor of rural Ireland those who only knew of poverty
And put them on the hard road to Connacht the victims of crimes against humanity
His army were thugs and not soldiers for they did things that soldiers ought not do
The winners always write the history though their version of history is often not true.

In Cromwell's time the winners wrote the history and the winners still write the history today
But for any crimes against humanity the winners too should be made to pay
But Cromwell and his army honoured for their crimes in Ireland against the poor defenceless poor
'Tis sad to think that one so unworthy of a place in history is secure.

To hell or to Connacht his catch cry he forced thousands of poor families on the road
To people who were penniless and innocent not one scrap of mercy he showed
Thousands of them died in the harsh Irish Winter when homelessness on them took it's toll
Because they were poor they were punished though their life circumstances beyond their control.

I think of the untruths of history each time I drive by Cromwell street
The history written by winners their history of lies and deceit
I say to myself they honour a tyrant and I struggle for to understand
Why they name a street after somebody who oppressed the poor of Ireland.

Andrew Marvell in verse glorified Cromwell but he was one who would not know
What Cromwell and his army got up to in Ireland in those bleak times centuries ago
But he only believed what they told him and they told him what he wanted to hear
History often written by unworthy people those who rule by terror and fear.

In Melbourne streets named in his honour his poor victims long forgotten and gone
Into the World of the forgotten but Cromwell's fame is living on
And the lessons we should have learned from history did not lead to a fair go for all
And the winners only write the story though the real truth they never recall.

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Black History Month

In January...
There they are making history.
In February...
There they are making history.
In March...
There they are making history.
In April...
There they are making history.
In May...
There they are making history.
In June...
There they are making history.
In July...
There they are making history.
In August...
There they are making history.
In September...
There they are making history.
In October...
There they are making history.
In November...
There they are making history.
In December...
There they are making history.

But...
It's nice to know
The shortest month of the year
Was chosen to celebrate
The great deeds of African-Americans!
However...
It is those LEAP YEARS,
That really have the blacks jumping for joy!

Note: 'Black History Month' along with other
works of interest can be found in...

*'MindPrints from Untouched Places-VOL I'*
~Now available online at a PC near you~

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Dont Stop For No-one

Dont stop for no-one
And then it goes on
(repeat 3 times)
One day my father said to me
its time for you to leave,
But dont wait for me, its pre-destiny
Dont wait around for someone to believe in
You know, history dont stop for no-one
Just like moses waiting on the mountain
You know, history dont stop for no-one
Dont hang around in the babylonian gardens
You know, history dont stop for no-one
(? ) tourist attraction
You know, history dont stop for no-one
Dont stop for no-one
And then it goes on
(repeat)
Sometimes I told I must confess
To a life of tenderness
But I just repeat what he said to me:
dont close your eyes because seeing is believing
You know, history dont stop for no-one
(? ) child, fighting for a meaning
You know, history dont stop for no-one
Dont dream too long, its time to awake now
You know, history dont stop for no-one
Like sleeping lucy waiting for a kiss now
You know, history dont stop for no-one
I think you know the way its gonna go now
You know, history dont stop for no-one
From aztech kings to new york queens
And then it goes on

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Makin History

Tonight theres a magic that I cant explain
Tune-up and start the show all set now ready to go
This bands gonna really rock tonight
Steppin out upon the stage
Under those lights again
Were gonna shake the place tonight
They gotta new song high in the charts you know
You must have heard them play it on the radio
When that flat top starts that picking
Hear the bass drum start that kicking
The joint is really jumpin now
Ooh mama its so exiting to feel
That tension rising when they turn the house lights down
Its a strange kinda magic that never seems to age
Makin history
Makin history
Adding a new leaf to the story that is rocknroll
Makin history
Makin history
Playing a new beat to the glory
That is rocknroll
Rock on
They gotta new song
High in the charts you know
You must have heard them play it on the radio
Hear the start and the jumbo gibson
You dont know what youre missing if youre not
Painting the town tonight
Ooh mama its so exiting to feel
That tension rising when they turn the house lights down
Makin history
Makin history
Adding a new leaf to the story that is rocknroll
Makin history
Makin history
Playing a new beat to the glory
That is rocknroll
Makin history
Makin history
Adding a new leaf to the story that is rocknroll
Makin history
Makin history
Playing a new beat to the glory that is rocknroll
Mama its so exiting-oh oh
Dont you find the beat exiting

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The History of Now

The recording of culture is history;
but our culture is more than that.
It's the world of human action,
and the myths we make of the fact.

The recording of history is culture,
but our history is more than that.
It informs a hidden agenda.
Unconscious of motive we act.

It's the history of now, the history of now.
It's only the present that exists as endowed.
It's the history of now. The moment - KAPOW!
That knocks you right over and muddies your brow.

Through the prism of language, we know what we know.
We carry our baggage and stories of woe.
Victor and vanquished pride cannot budge,
the dead weight of hatred and ancestral grudge.

We fight our good fights with our hand on our heart;
the music is swelling as loved ones depart.
As sheep to the slaughter, the script cannot chart,
a course more ignoble: the propagandist's art.

The recording of history is culture,
but our culture is more than that.
More than the great individuals,
the scholars so love in their tracts.

The recording of culture is history;
but our history is more than that.
Not simple dates or statistics,
the full horror and gore still attracts.

It's the history of now, the history of now.
A strange contradiction that makes sense somehow.
It's the history of now, a mystery and shroud.
The past and the future: best fiction allowed.

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Folitician

(chorus)
Hey folitician, me seh hey folitician
Me seh hey folitician
Mek you go long so.
Hey folitician, me seh hey folitician
Me seh hey folitician
Mek you go long so.
You come chatty chatty chatty run up you' mouth; (repeat)
One man, one vote you hear from the shout. (repeat)
You full of pure promise but you tell damn' lies; (repeat)
You make a mistake and then somebody dies. (repeat)
Hey folitician, me seh hey folitician
Me seh hey folitician
What you doin 'bout the slums?
You sit around all day, jus' a twiddle your thumbs;
You have a strange expression
Mek you look like you' dumb. (repeat)
You worry everybody 'til you put them in a box. (repeat)
Dub freak gone
Gone go check him record shop,
Gone go check him record stock.
Him climb upon the box
Him said him got to reach the top;
Him climb upon the shelf
Him seh you take care yourself.
Him dance upon the floor
Him said a music galore. (repeat)
Dub freak, dub freak
Deh 'pon the go;
Say you never know
Because i told you so.
Sippa, sippa, sippa, sippa, lightning crash; (repeat)
Drummer 'pon him drum, him jus' a play mish-mash. (repeat)
Keyboards in the middle jus'a jump and twiddle. (repeat)
Rhythm over here an' me seh rhythm over there;
Don't stop and stare because the rhythm gone clear.
Dub freak, dub freak, in a dub freak style
Dub freak, dub freak, still a running wild.
Him start from the bottom 'til him reach up the top
Him keep on rocking and him never stop.
Wow and flutter, music jus'
A run like butter. (repeat)
Dub a slip an' slide
Dub a slip an' slide
Dub a slip an' slide,
He can't find nowhere to hide.

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You Started This Fire

I lay with you and it's,
Under-cover.
With a ring-aling that dings.
And penetrates to get to things.

Aaahhh, aaahhh, aaahhh.

I lay with you and it's,
Under-cover.
With a ring-aling that dings.
And penetrates to get to things.
And penetrates to get to things.
Repeat.
And penetrates to get to things.
Repeat.
And penetrates to get to things.

Aaahhh, aaahhh, aaahhh.

Now who started this fire?
With a-ring and a-ding-ding-ding.
And a,
Big dingalingaling.
In this,
Sticky heat!
And, breathing deep.

Now who is accused for this fire?
That makes my breathing deep.
And...
Makes me clinch both fist and teeth.

Now who is accused for this fire?
That makes my breathing deep.
And...
Makes me clinch both fist and teeth.

You lay bare with naked clues!
You must of have started this fire.
You looking as if you know what to do too.
You must of have started this fire,
To build up my desire.

And why do I suspect that,
You have done this thing and...
That you want to bring me,
To a place....
To hear me scream

You lay bare with naked clues!

[...] Read more

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History Stones People.

History stones people.


They stoned Moses, David and Linclon,
history did that for all to see


Marbel and cement,
that's all it leaves behind
of a long changing life.


Great heroes of time,
fall under the mercy
of the sculptor's knife.


History stones faces,
in a way that would make
ecclestias cringe.
History stones feet,
in a way that would make
piligrims cry.


History stones life
to always stay fresh,
yet, what is life without
the sins of the flesh.


All the radical kids
get stoned
and never change
or even move a muscle.

All the sword raising warriors
history stoned
without blood in their veins.


You can see all the victims
that history stoned
when you walk in the park,
they got kings
and queens
hell, they even got Gods.


They are there captive

[...] Read more

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Ten Words Circularly

History is ‘Nothing to be done’; and Time passes circularly.
Nothing passes circularly: History and Time is to be done.
Time is circularly Nothing and History passes to be done.
History circularly passes Time and Nothing is to be done.
To be Nothing, Time passes and History is circularly done.
Nothing is to be done: Time and History circularly passes.
Nothing is History and, to be done, Time circularly passes.
To be is History; and Time done circularly passes Nothing.
Time is to be; and Nothing circularly done passes History.
Nothing passes History and Time to be done circularly is.
To be is: Nothing done circularly passes History and Time.

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Pimpin' Ain't Easy

[ice-t]
Godfather's in the house..
Grab yo' bitches
Pimpin ain't pimpin ain't easy man (repeat 4x)
Take a look at me, everything i own's iced out
Pimp baby, you can see my wrists with the lights out
This is how i do it, mad bitches and clothes
Godfather baby, only play to my rogues
Step back, hater make a little room for my hoes
Gators on my feet, take a look at my toes
Money is the reason all the real players know that
Godfather lays punks to rest
He got no chance up against the best
I rocks in the east and i rolls in the west
If you don't dig the pimpin i could really care less
Cause it's, pimp or die, pimp or die baby
Pimpin ain't pimpin ain't easy man (repeat 3x)
Pimpin ain't pimpin ain't easy..
G-o-d, f-a-t-h-e-r
Hoes start runnin when they see my car
Even though i'ma pro wrestling star
They know i, don't play and i gotta get paid
Everything i wear baby's tailor made
I come into your town and go off like a grenade
And anyone who steps on the mat they get laid
Let me pimp or let me die that's the game i chose
Condos, speedboats, and beautiful hoes
Cartier wristwear, furs and gold
And mad cash baby too much to fold
Cause it's, pimp or die, pimp or die baby
Pimpin ain't pimpin ain't easy man (repeat 3x)
Grab yo bitches!
Pimpin ain't pimpin ain't easy man (repeat 3x)
Big pimpin jumpin off!
Pimpin ain't pimpin ain't easy man (repeat 3x)
Godfather's in the house, bitch!
Pimpin ain't pimpin ain't easy man (repeat 3x)
Pimpin ain't pimpin ain't easy..
Break yourself bitch!
..
Pimpin ain't pimpin ain't easy man (repeat 3x)
Pimpin ain't pimpin ain't - pimp or die baby
Pimpin ain't pimpin ain't easy man (repeat 3x)
Grab yo bitches!
Pimpin ain't pimpin ain't easy man (repeat 3x)
Big pimpin jumpin off!
Pimpin ain't pimpin ain't easy man (repeat 5x)
Grab yo bitches!

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Mostly Slavonic

I.—
Peter Michaelov

It was Peter the Barbarian put an apron in his bag
And rolled up the honoured bundle that Australians call a swag;
And he tramped from Darkest Russia, that it might be dark no more,
Dreaming of a port, and shipping, as no monarch dreamed before.
Of a home, and education, and of children staunch and true,
Like my father in the fifties—and his name was Peter, too.
(He could build a ship—or fiddle, out of wood, or bark, or hide—.
Sail one round the world and play the other one at eventide.)

Russia’s Peter (not my father) went to Holland in disguise,
Where he laboured as a shipwright underneath those gloomy skies;
Later on he went to England (which the Kaiser now—condemns)
Where he studied as a ship-smith by old Deptford on the Thames—
And no doubt he knew the rope-walk—(and the rope’s end too, he knew)—
Learned to build a ship and sail it—learned the business through and through.
And I’d like to say my father mastered navigation too.
(He was born across in Norway, educated fairly well,
And he grafted in a ship-yard by the Port of Arundel.)

“Peter Michaelov” (not Larsen) his work was by no means done;
For he learned to make a ploughshare, and he learned to make a gun.
Russian soldiers must have clothing, so he laboured at the looms,
And he studied, after hours, building forts and building booms.
He would talk with all and sundry, merchants and adventurers—
Whaling men from Nova Scotia, and with ancient mariners.
Studied military systems (of which Austria’s was the best).
Hospitals and even bedlams—class distinctions and the rest.

There was nothing he neglected that was useful to be known—
And he even studied Wowsers, who had no creed of his own.
And, lest all that he accomplished should as miracles appear,
It must always be remembered he’d a secret Fund for Beer.
When he tramped to toil and exile he was only twenty-five,
With a greater, grander object than had any man alive.
And perhaps the lad was bullied, and was sad for all we know—
Though it isn’t very likely that he’d take a second blow.
He had brains amongst the brainless, and, what that thing means I knew,
For before I found my kingdom, I had slaved in workshops too.

But they never dreamed, the brainless, boors that used to sneer and scoff,
That the dreamy lad beside them—known as “Dutchy Mickyloff”—
Was a genius and a poet, and a Man—no matter which—
Was the Czar of all the Russias!—Peter Michaelovich.


Sweden struck ere he was ready—filled the land with blood and tears—
But he broke the power of Sweden though it took him nine long years.

[...] Read more

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History Is A Story

Hunters write history;
Tigers have no historians.
Winners write history;
Losers have no historians.
Read the history as a story.

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Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap

If your havin' trouble with your high school head
He's givin' you the blues
You wanna graduate but not in 'is bed
Here's what you gotta do -
Pick up the phone
I'm here alone
Call me any time
36 24 36 (slaver)
I lead a life of crime
Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap
repeat
repeat
repeat
Your havin' problems in your life of love
You got a broken heart
He's double dealin' with your best friend
That's when the teardrops start -
Pick up the phone
I'm here alone
Or make a social call
Come right in
Forget about him
We'll have ourselves a ball
Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap
repeat
repeat
repeat
If you got a lady but you want her gone
But you ain't got the guts
She keeps naggin' you night and day
Enough to drive you nuts -
Pick up the phone
Leave her alone
It's time you made a stand
For a fee I'll be happy to be
Your back door man
Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap
repeat
repeat
repeat
Concrete shoes

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Carl Sandburg

Sea-Wash

The sea-wash never ends.
The sea-wash repeats, repeats.
Only old songs? Is that all the sea knows?
Only the old strong songs?
Is that all?
The sea-wash repeats, repeats.

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Washington At War & The Hinge Of History

WASHINGTON AT WAR & THE HINGE OF HISTORY

Once in command, he boxed in the British
At Boston where he captured Dorchester Heights
Overlooking the Brits at his mercy
As his men took aim with their cannon sites.

The British commander had but one choice
To sail to New York to renew the fight.
Where the English had much greater forces
Who soon chased Washington's men in full flight.

They continued on to Pennsylvania
After crossing the Hudson in retreat
With the British forces in hot pursuit
It looked as though George was doomed to defeat.

When winter seemed to have stopped the fighting
That's when Washington crossed the Delaware.
On that Christmas night he captured Trenton
Where Hessians were surprised and unaware.

He whipped the British at Princeton
Where in victory his men began to sing.
Washington then wintered at Morristown
Training his troops for the combat of spring.

Washington fought bravely at Brandywine
And again at a place called Germantown
But the British were the victorious ones
As the dead of both sides covered the ground

Americans were blessed early that spring
When the French entered the war on their side.
Though most suffered frostbite at Valley Forge
With the help of the French they marched in stride.

The battles raged on, in the North and South
As the King's soldiers laid waste to the land.
Washington himself was in great despair
Pleading for aid for his weakened command.

His prayers were answered by 5000 troops
And a French fleet who took Chesapeake Bay.
They bottled up Cornwallis at Yorktown
Who surrendered to victory drums at play.

Yorktown was really the end of the war
Though not many quite realized that fact yet.
But the British soon grew tired of the fight

[...] Read more

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The Rest Is History

Saw you across the room
Felt somethin stir inside my soul
Knew Id never be the same
Now that love had taken hold
Then when you touched me
There was no doubt
You unterstood what my heart was all about
And the rest is history
The story of you and me
For all eternity
The record will show
Well fill up the pages
Romance for the ages
There for the world to see
The rest ist history
Before we spoke a word
My heart told me you were the one
When you pressed your hand to mine
I knew my life had just begun
Like some old movie
Music filled the night
Lost held each other tight.
And the rest is history
The story of you and me
For all eternity
The record will show
Well fill up the pages
Romance for the ages
There for the world to see
The rest ist history
And the rest is history
The story of you and me
For all eternity
The record will show
Well fill up the pages
Romance for the ages
There for the world to see
The rest ist history
History ...
The rest is history.
The rest is history.

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