Give ThemBread & Circuses- Julius Caesar
Oh, she may be weary
Young girls they do get weary
Wearing that same old shaggy dress
But when she gets weary
Try a little tenderness.
Young girls they do get weary
Wearing that same old shaggy dress
But when she gets weary
Try a little tenderness.
Speeding arrow, sharp and narrow,
What a lot of fleeting matters you have spurned.
Several seasons with their treasons,
Wrap the babe in scarlet colors, call it your own.
Did he doubt or did he try? Answers aplenty in the bye and bye,
Talk about your plenty, talk about your ills,
One man gathers what another man spills.
What a lot of fleeting matters you have spurned.
Several seasons with their treasons,
Wrap the babe in scarlet colors, call it your own.
Did he doubt or did he try? Answers aplenty in the bye and bye,
Talk about your plenty, talk about your ills,
One man gathers what another man spills.
Man’s true taproots are nourished in the sequence of generations, and he loses his taproots in disrupted developmental time, not in abandoned localities. Every adult, whether he is a follower or a leader, a member of a mass or of an elite, was once a child. He was once small. A sense of smallness forms a substratum in his mind, ineradicably. His triumphs will be measured against this smallness; his defeats will substantiate it.
Why join the navy if you can be a pirate?
A knave; a rascal; an eater of broken meats; a
base, proud, shallow, beggarly, three-suited,
hundred-pound, filthy, worsted-stocking knave; a
lily-livered, action-taking knave, a whoreson,
glass-gazing, super-serviceable finical rogue;
one-trunk-inheriting slave; one that wouldst be a
bawd, in way of good service, and art nothing but
the composition of a knave, beggar, coward, pandar,
and the son and heir of a mongrel bitch: one whom I
will beat into clamorous whining, if thou deniest
the least syllable of thy addition.
Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks! Rage! Blow!
You cataracts and hurricanoes, spout
Till you have drenched our teeples, drowned the cocks!
You sulphurour and thought-executing fires,
Vaunt-couriers to oak-cleaving thunderbolts,
Singe my white head! And thou, all-shaking thunder,
Strike flat the thick rotundity o’ the world!
Crack nature’s molds, all germens spill at once
That make ingrateful man!
base, proud, shallow, beggarly, three-suited,
hundred-pound, filthy, worsted-stocking knave; a
lily-livered, action-taking knave, a whoreson,
glass-gazing, super-serviceable finical rogue;
one-trunk-inheriting slave; one that wouldst be a
bawd, in way of good service, and art nothing but
the composition of a knave, beggar, coward, pandar,
and the son and heir of a mongrel bitch: one whom I
will beat into clamorous whining, if thou deniest
the least syllable of thy addition.
Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks! Rage! Blow!
You cataracts and hurricanoes, spout
Till you have drenched our teeples, drowned the cocks!
You sulphurour and thought-executing fires,
Vaunt-couriers to oak-cleaving thunderbolts,
Singe my white head! And thou, all-shaking thunder,
Strike flat the thick rotundity o’ the world!
Crack nature’s molds, all germens spill at once
That make ingrateful man!
Education is the great engine of personal development. It is through education that the daughter of a peasant can become a doctor, that the son of a mine worker can become the head of the mine, that a child of farm workers can become the president of a great nation. It is what we make out of what we have, not what we are given, that separates one person from another.
Above all, don’t lie to yourself. The man who lies to himself and listens to his own lie comes to a point that he cannot distinguish the truth within him, or around him, and so loses all respect for himself and for others. And having no respect he ceases to love.
His own opinion, which he does not air, is that the origin of speech lie in song, and the origins of song in the need to fill out with sound the overlarge and rather empty human soul.
Sleep is no longer a healing bath, a recuperation of vital forces, but an oblivion, a nightly brush with annihilation.
Sleep is no longer a healing bath, a recuperation of vital forces, but an oblivion, a nightly brush with annihilation.
There's spirits above and behind me
Faces gone black, eyes burning bright
May their precious blood bind me
Lord, as I stand before your fiery light
Faces gone black, eyes burning bright
May their precious blood bind me
Lord, as I stand before your fiery light
But I remember us riding in my brother’s car
Her body tan and wet down at the reservoir
At night on them banks I’d lie awake
And pull her close just to feel each breath she’d take
Now those memories come back to haunt me
They haunt me like a curse
Is a dream a lie if it don’t come true
Or is it something worse?
Her body tan and wet down at the reservoir
At night on them banks I’d lie awake
And pull her close just to feel each breath she’d take
Now those memories come back to haunt me
They haunt me like a curse
Is a dream a lie if it don’t come true
Or is it something worse?
The growth of the mass media of communication and their use in politics have brought politics closer to the people than ever before and have made politics a form of entertainment in which the spectators feel themselves involved. Thus it has become, more than ever before, an arena into which private emotions and personal problems can be readily projected. Mass communications have made it possible to keep the mass man in an almost constant state of political mobilisation.
I’m aware of the time we lost
Like a demon in the doorway, waiting to be born
But I’m here all alone, just begging
Pull me close and let me hold you in
Give me the deeper understanding of who I am
I’m moving back again, I’m waiting.
Like a demon in the doorway, waiting to be born
But I’m here all alone, just begging
Pull me close and let me hold you in
Give me the deeper understanding of who I am
I’m moving back again, I’m waiting.
Have you seen the bigger piggies
In their starched white shirts?
You will find the bigger piggies
Stirring up the dirt
In their styes with all their backing
In their eyes there’s something lacking
Everywhere there’s lots of piggies
Living piggy lives
In their starched white shirts?
You will find the bigger piggies
Stirring up the dirt
In their styes with all their backing
In their eyes there’s something lacking
Everywhere there’s lots of piggies
Living piggy lives
I have heard a storm of words in me, enough to write several hundred songs and that many books. I know that these words I hear are not my own private property. I borrowed them from you, the same as I walked through the high winds and borrowed enough air to keep me moving.
I was driving home early Sunday morning through Bakersfield
Listening to gospel music on the colored radio station
And the preacher said, you know you always have the Lord by your side
And I was so pleased to be informed of this that I ran
Twenty red lights in his honor
Thank you Jesus, thank you Lord.
Listening to gospel music on the colored radio station
And the preacher said, you know you always have the Lord by your side
And I was so pleased to be informed of this that I ran
Twenty red lights in his honor
Thank you Jesus, thank you Lord.
To laugh often and much; To win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children; To earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends; To appreciate beauty, to find the best in others; To leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch, or a redeemed social condition; To know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. This is to have succeeded.
He fought a war on a battlefield where every victory hurts.
Lenny Bruce was bad, he was the brother that you never had.
Lenny Bruce was bad, he was the brother that you never had.
Ain’t no wind that I can feel in the way, in the way
In the freezing rain
Turn your head my way and my heart and look and see
And I look away
Ain’t no wind that I feel, flyin’ with no way to lose
Ain’t no shame to hold you, to hold you here, for losing you.
In the freezing rain
Turn your head my way and my heart and look and see
And I look away
Ain’t no wind that I feel, flyin’ with no way to lose
Ain’t no shame to hold you, to hold you here, for losing you.
There are always flowers for those who want to see them.
Baby, out in the street I don’t feel sad or blue
Baby, out in the street I’ll be waiting for you
When I’m out in the street
Pretty girls, they’re all passing by
When I’m out in the street
From the corner, we give them the eye
Baby, out in the street I just feel all right
Meet me out in the street, little girl, tonight
Meet me out in the street
Meet me out in the street.
Baby, out in the street I’ll be waiting for you
When I’m out in the street
Pretty girls, they’re all passing by
When I’m out in the street
From the corner, we give them the eye
Baby, out in the street I just feel all right
Meet me out in the street, little girl, tonight
Meet me out in the street
Meet me out in the street.
If you’re going through hell, keep going.
Now I’m holding a dub, sitting on swoll
27 years old, up for parole, stroll
I’m back up on my feet with my mind on the money
That I’ll make as soon as I touch the streets
Things done changed on this side
Remember they used to thump, but now they blast, right?
But it ain’t no thing to me
Cause now I’m what they call a loced-assed OG
The little homies from the hood with grip
Are the ones I get with cause I’m down to set trip
I’m bigger than you, so what you wanna do?
Didn’t know he had a .22
Straight sitting behind his back
I grabbed his pockets and then I heard six caps
I fell to the ground with blood on my hands
I didn’t understand
How a brother so young could bust a cap
I used to be the same way back
I guess that’s what I get (For what?)
For trying to jack them little homies for they grip.
27 years old, up for parole, stroll
I’m back up on my feet with my mind on the money
That I’ll make as soon as I touch the streets
Things done changed on this side
Remember they used to thump, but now they blast, right?
But it ain’t no thing to me
Cause now I’m what they call a loced-assed OG
The little homies from the hood with grip
Are the ones I get with cause I’m down to set trip
I’m bigger than you, so what you wanna do?
Didn’t know he had a .22
Straight sitting behind his back
I grabbed his pockets and then I heard six caps
I fell to the ground with blood on my hands
I didn’t understand
How a brother so young could bust a cap
I used to be the same way back
I guess that’s what I get (For what?)
For trying to jack them little homies for they grip.
Being Irish, he had an abiding sense of tragedy, which sustained him through temporary periods of joy.
Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
I keep my currency in stacks, California’s where I’m at
Contemplation makes a rare turkey-cock of him. How he jets under his advanced plumes!
Your name is big brother
You say that you’re watching me on the tele,
Seeing me go nowhere,
Your name is big brother,
You say that you’re tired of me protesting,
Children dying everyday,
My name is nobody
But I can’t wait to see your face inside my door
Your name is big brother
You say that you got me all in your notebook,
Writing it down everyday,
Your name is I’ll see ya,
I’ll change if you vote me in as the pres,
The President of your soul
I live in the ghetto,
You just come to visit me ’round election time.
You say that you’re watching me on the tele,
Seeing me go nowhere,
Your name is big brother,
You say that you’re tired of me protesting,
Children dying everyday,
My name is nobody
But I can’t wait to see your face inside my door
Your name is big brother
You say that you got me all in your notebook,
Writing it down everyday,
Your name is I’ll see ya,
I’ll change if you vote me in as the pres,
The President of your soul
I live in the ghetto,
You just come to visit me ’round election time.
The man that hath no music in himself, Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds, Is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils; The motions of his spirit are dull as night, And his affections dark as Erebus.
The people that once bestowed commands, consulships, legions, and all else, now concerns itself no more, and longs eagerly for just two things: bread and circuses!
Ain’t no tellin when I’m down for a jack move
Here’s a murder rap to keep yo dancin
with a crime record like Charles Manson
AK-47 is the tool
Don’t make me act the motherfuckin fool
Me you can go toe to toe, no maybe
I’m down with the capital C-P-T
Boy you can’t fuck with me
So when I’m in your neighborhood, you better duck
Cuz Ice Cube is crazy as fuck
As I leave, believe I’m stompin
but when I come back, boy, I’m comin straight outta Compton.
Here’s a murder rap to keep yo dancin
with a crime record like Charles Manson
AK-47 is the tool
Don’t make me act the motherfuckin fool
Me you can go toe to toe, no maybe
I’m down with the capital C-P-T
Boy you can’t fuck with me
So when I’m in your neighborhood, you better duck
Cuz Ice Cube is crazy as fuck
As I leave, believe I’m stompin
but when I come back, boy, I’m comin straight outta Compton.
The souls in Purgatory that come back to habitations and familiar spots
Re-live
their transgressions
Re-live
their transgressions
No one is born hating another person because of the color of his skin, or his background, or his religion. People must learn to hate, and if they can learn to hate, they can be taught to love, for love comes more naturally to the human heart than its opposite.
If the mitred bishops seen you that time, they’d be the like of the holy prophets, I’m thinking, do be straining the bars of Paradise to lay eyes on the Lady Helen of Troy, and she abroad, pacing back and forward, with a nosegay in her golden shawl. Drink a health to the wonders of the western world, the pirates, preachers, poteen-makers, with the jobbing jockies; parching peelers, and the juries fill their stomachs selling judgments of the English law. Lord, confound this surly sister, Blight her brow with blotch and blister, Cramp her larynx, lung, and liver, In her guts a galling give her.
If we do not change our negative habits toward climate change, we can count on worldwide disruptions in food production, resulting in mass migration, refugee crises and increased conflict over scarce natural resources like water and farm land. This is a recipe for major security problems. Sometimes the hardest thing to do is just to stay human.
Mom, wherever there’s a cop beating a guy
Wherever a hungry newborn baby cries
Where there’s a fight against the blood and hatred in the air
Look for me, Mom, I’ll be there
Wherever somebody’s fighting for a place to stand
Or a decent job or a helping hand
Wherever somebody’s struggling to be free
Look in their eyes, Ma, and you’ll see me
Wherever a hungry newborn baby cries
Where there’s a fight against the blood and hatred in the air
Look for me, Mom, I’ll be there
Wherever somebody’s fighting for a place to stand
Or a decent job or a helping hand
Wherever somebody’s struggling to be free
Look in their eyes, Ma, and you’ll see me
I remember walking across Sixty-second Street one twilight that first spring, or the second spring, they were all alike for a while. I was late to meet someone but I stopped at Lexington Avenue and bought a peach and stood on the corner eating it and knew that I had come out out of the West and reached the mirage. I could taste the peach and feel the soft air blowing from a subway grating on my legs and I could smell lilac and garbage and expensive perfume and I knew that it would cost something sooner or later—because I did not belong there, did not come from there—but when you are twenty-two or twenty-three, you figure that later you will have a high emotional balance, and be able to pay whatever it costs. I still believed in possibilities then, still had the sense, so peculiar to New York, that something extraordinary would happen any minute, any day, any month.
In the abundance of water, the fool is thirsty.
She took me outside to the churchyard
Showed me graves on the ground and she said
There lies a man who fought for equality
There lies a boy who died in his struggle
Can all these heroes die in vain?
Showed me graves on the ground and she said
There lies a man who fought for equality
There lies a boy who died in his struggle
Can all these heroes die in vain?
He comes in the morning when the air is still,
He races the sun and he always will.
We raise up the window and call through the trees,
Oh we’d love to fly with you, Gabriel and me.
He races the sun and he always will.
We raise up the window and call through the trees,
Oh we’d love to fly with you, Gabriel and me.
There are millions of acres of land yet untouched, which if leveed and drained and fenced, and well cultivated, might be made to produce with good luck seven or more bales to the hand. It would cost comparatively little to accomplish it — one lucky crop would repay all the outlay for land and improvements — if it were not for “the hands.” The supply of hands is limited. It does not increase in the ratio of the increase of the cotton demand.
Seen from an approaching aircraft that is gradually losing altitude, the nighttime illumination of Los Angeles looks like a magical image. Later, on the streets of the city, that same light seems pallid and sickly to me, an unnatural brightness in which the green lawns and bushes in the front yards of the houses look as if they were made of plastic.
There is nothing that interests me more than medical research and the quest for better living facilities, and better health and better medical standards, not only in the United States, but throughout the world. This, to me is where we should be concentrating our greatest efforts. In fact, possibly – I might say that I feel it could be more important than some of the space activity.
When it rains, the moisture in the humid air blankets our town with the smell of damp coffee grounds wafting in from the Nescafé factory at the town’s eastern edge. I don’t like coffee but I like that smell. It’s comforting; it unites the town in a common sensory experience; it’s good industry, like the roaring rug mill that fills our ears, brings work and signals our town’s vitality. There is a place here—you can hear it, smell it—where people make lives, suffer pain, enjoy small pleasures, play baseball, die, make love, have kids, drink themselves drunk on spring nights and do their best to hold off the demons that seek to destroy us, our homes, our families, our town.
Your a little star struck innuendos
Inadequacies an’ foreign bodies,
And the sunlight shining through the crack in the window pane
Numbs my brain,
And the sunlight shining through the crack in the window pane
Numbs my brain, oh Lord.
Ha, so open up the window and let me breathe.
The cool room, Lord is a fool’s room.
The cool room, Lord is a fool’s room.
And I can almost smell your T.B. sheets
Inadequacies an’ foreign bodies,
And the sunlight shining through the crack in the window pane
Numbs my brain,
And the sunlight shining through the crack in the window pane
Numbs my brain, oh Lord.
Ha, so open up the window and let me breathe.
The cool room, Lord is a fool’s room.
The cool room, Lord is a fool’s room.
And I can almost smell your T.B. sheets
She wears strength and darkness equally well, the girl has always been half goddess, half hell.
I got a shiny saw blade
All I need’s a volunteer
I’ll cut you in half
While smilin’ in your ear
And the freedom that you sought
Driftin’ like a ghost amongst the trees
All I need’s a volunteer
I’ll cut you in half
While smilin’ in your ear
And the freedom that you sought
Driftin’ like a ghost amongst the trees
In a real sense all life is inter-related. All men are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly, affects all indirectly. I can never be what I ought to be until you are what you ought to be, and you can never be what you ought to be until I am what I ought to be...
This is the inter-related structure of reality.
This is the inter-related structure of reality.
Were such things here as we do speak about?
Or have we eaten on the insane root
That takes the reason prisoner?
Or have we eaten on the insane root
That takes the reason prisoner?
Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack in everything
That's how the light gets in.
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack in everything
That's how the light gets in.
We try never to forget that medicine is for the people. It is not for the profits. The profits follow, and if we have remembered that, they have never failed to appear. The better we have remembered it, the larger they have been.
Each person possesses and inviolability founded on justice that even the welfare of society as a whole cannot override. The principles of justice are chosen behind a veil of ignorance.
Public Policy –
Degrees of Freedom
Juvenal, the Roman poet active in the late first and early second century AD, once stated: … Already long ago, from when we sold our vote to no man, the People have abdicated our duties; for the People who once upon a time handed out military command, high civil office, legions — everything, now restrains itself and anxiously hopes for just two things: bread and circuses. We are in that widening gyre of costly circus games and other forms of entertainment as a means of gaining electoral political power. In the play on panopticism, power is now communicated outwardly through social media, sometimes overtly, sometime subtly, but always increasingly through digitalized worlds of information. Is digitization causing this vacuum in democracy, and in its stead, are we a displaced, distracted electorate, or can the public turn the panopticon on the circus at the helm, and in turn, improve democratic civic engagement?
Music –
The Bridge
In music, especially western popular music, a bridge is a contrasting section that prepares for the return of the original material section. A bridge, then, is simply a transition from the second chorus to the last chorus. Music is a bridge – a bridge across race, culture, and even a bridge to memory. I became fascinated by the affects of music on the brain when I moderated an evening symposium in 2017 with The Johns Hopkins University, artist Michael Franti, and Professor of Otolaryngology, Dr. Charles Limb, in an effort to unite musicians & physicians under one roof. Recently, research indicates a relationship between music and cognitive functions including heightened creative impulses, memory, executive function, and linguistics, among others. I have a deep desire to contribute to this research, particularly in music and improving neurodegenerative conditions. More importantly, I want to understand the depths of lyric, of chorus, verse, and rhythm, as it takes us to a discursive ocean of sound, beauty, and tranquility, away from the confines of logic, and into the space where, according to Aldous Huxley, after silence, that which comes nearest to expressing the inexpressible is music.
Medicine and Biotechnology –
Proof of Concept
Here I seek to understand new trends in medicine to treat new expansive therapeutic areas, such as clinical trials using CAR-T in oncology, autoimmune disorders, viral diseases, and even in dermatology. This section also seeks to understand new trends in biotechnology, such as new regulatory requirements in tech transfer, new manufacturing commercial trends, the emergence of synthetic biology, improving real-world data for clinical trials as it relates to market access/pricing, and the rise of venture capital in emerging markets. Finally, I seek to understand not just the business in medicine, but also the medicine in business. How does public health, or population health for that matter, play an integral role in the pharma and biotech industry?
