the mind-forg'd manacles I hear
Jul. 23rd, 2013 01:57 amWeather today, here up in northern England, was not quite the searing scorcher promised by the weather forecasts. Thank goodness. It may have been hotter down South, to which I can only say, I'm glad I'm up North.
Like so many of his projects, our Prime Minister's desires to make it impossible to google for pornography are flawed at the root and bloody stupid. My very first thought, while hearing him pontificate (I will not say "listening to him pontificate") was to consider how often at work we have to research medical terminology or procedures, and just how stupid it would be to have some sort of googling ban on looking up words for the male or female genitalia.
Well, yes, and there are many other good reasons why it is a Stupid Idea, but that was the first one that occurred to me.
---
London
I wander thro' each charter'd street,
Near where the charter'd Thames does flow,
And mark in every face I meet
Marks of weakness, marks of woe.
In every cry of every Man,
In every Infant's cry of fear,
In every voice, in every ban,
The mind-forg'd manacles I hear.
How the Chimney-sweeper's cry
Every black'ning Church appalls;
And the hapless Soldier's sigh
Runs in blood down Palace walls.
But most thro' midnight streets I hear
How the youthful Harlot's curse
Blasts the new born Infant's tear,
And blights with plagues the Marriage hearse.
-- William Blake
Like so many of his projects, our Prime Minister's desires to make it impossible to google for pornography are flawed at the root and bloody stupid. My very first thought, while hearing him pontificate (I will not say "listening to him pontificate") was to consider how often at work we have to research medical terminology or procedures, and just how stupid it would be to have some sort of googling ban on looking up words for the male or female genitalia.
Well, yes, and there are many other good reasons why it is a Stupid Idea, but that was the first one that occurred to me.
---
London
I wander thro' each charter'd street,
Near where the charter'd Thames does flow,
And mark in every face I meet
Marks of weakness, marks of woe.
In every cry of every Man,
In every Infant's cry of fear,
In every voice, in every ban,
The mind-forg'd manacles I hear.
How the Chimney-sweeper's cry
Every black'ning Church appalls;
And the hapless Soldier's sigh
Runs in blood down Palace walls.
But most thro' midnight streets I hear
How the youthful Harlot's curse
Blasts the new born Infant's tear,
And blights with plagues the Marriage hearse.
-- William Blake
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Date: 2013-07-24 12:33 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-07-24 07:06 am (UTC)