by William Shakespeare (submitted by John I. Johnson) Prophecy of the dying John of Gaunt in The Tragedy of King Richard II (1594), Act 2, Scene 1: Methinks I am a prophet new inspired
And thus expiring do foretell . . .: This royal throne of kings, this scepter’d isle,
This earth of majesty, this…

by Lord Dunsany AS HE CRAWLED from the tombs of the fallen a worm met with an angel. And together they looked upon the kings and kingdoms, and youths and maidens and the cities of men. They saw the old men heavy in their chairs and heard the children singing in the fields. They saw far wars and warriors and walled…

by Lord Dunsany IT WAS THE VOICE of the flowers on the West wind, the lovable, the old, the lazy West wind, blowing ceaselessly, blowing sleepily, going Greecewards. “The woods have gone away, they have fallen and left us; men love us no longer, we are lonely by moonlight. Great engines rush over the beautiful…

by Lord Dunsany FAME, AS SHE walked at evening in a city saw the painted face of Notoriety flaunting beneath a gas-lamp, and many kneeled unto her in the dirt of the road. “Who are you?” Fame said to her. “I am Fame,” said Notoriety. Then Fame stole softly away so that no one knew…

by Lord Dunsany “SEEING,” they said, “that old-time Pan is dead, let us now make a tomb for him and a monument, that the dreadful worship of long ago may be remembered and avoided by all.” So said the people of the enlightened lands. And they built a white and mighty tomb of marble. Slowly it rose under the…

FOR MANY YEARS I’ve been troubled by the recipients of the Nobel Peace Prize. It seems to me that you had a head start by having the blood of thousands on your hands. Think Kissinger, Begin, Arafat . . . and not forgetting President Obomber herself  himself. Following a period of profound reflection,…

by H. Millard I RECEIVED A most interesting call on my phone the other day from none other than Joey Bigears. Now, Mr. Bigears has been on my missing persons list for a couple of years and I suspect that he may have been on the lam, but I am not one to inquire of such things as I do not wish to intrude into the personal…

The year is 1990. A twelve-year-old girl, ARIANNE, and her FATHER are seated in a restaurant in Rockwell, Illinois (formerly Bloomington). [Waitress enters with a tray of food] WAITRESS: Here you go: a veggie burger deluxe for the young lady, a power salad for her dad, and two Original-Recipe Fanta…

WASHINGTON’S MONUMENTS, museums and government buildings had changed but little since the Cottrell’s last visit decades ago. The avenues ran as straight and wide as ever and the Smithsonian and National Gallery remained treasure troves. But Norm and Nan Cottrell, two ferociously…

The pathetic self-hate of the old American elite started early, as this 1980 satire makes clear. by Cholly Bilderberger BOOK-IN-SEARCH-OF-AN-AUTHOR (AND A PUBLISHER): Scion of a leading family somewhere on the Eastern Seaboard, Bannister Trumbull is troubled through his years at Groton and Harvard…