Posted on 01/19/2019 12:00:59 PM PST by lurked_for_a_decade
You're a man, If - Rudyard Kipling
If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
Ifyou can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;
If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools:
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!
A little background on Rudyard Kipling, the above poem and his son.
The fate of John Kipling, rudyard Kiplings son.
My Boy Jack’ by Rudyard Kipling (c.1916)
“Have you news of my boy Jack?”
Not this tide.
“When d’you think that he’ll come back?”
Not with this wind blowing, and this tide.
“Has any one else had word of him?”
Not this tide.
For what is sunk will hardly swim,
Not with this wind blowing, and this tide.
“Oh, dear, what comfort can I find?”
None this tide,
Nor any tide,
Except he did not shame his kind —
Not even with that wind blowing, and that tide.
Then hold your head up all the more,
This tide,
And every tide;
Because he was the son you bore,
And gave to that wind blowing and that tide!
Pardon me whilst I wipe the privilege running from my eyes and collect my thoughts.
Lurked_for_a_decade
Does anyone else know some classoc literature about -
Manhood.
Gilette makes war on the people, ignores the cowardly narcissist rapists are effeminates like Bill Clinton or Obama or Hogg who cannot stand , as all cowardly iNCEls to be rejected by women who know what real attractive men are
That’s just a man. The definition of a gentleman
is someone who blows his nose into a rag and
carries it around with him all day.
Excellent poem. I hadn’t read it in decades. Thanks for posting it.
How did you know I just picked/blew my nose? (LOL)
Seriously though. What other classic literature do freepers know which illustrate the absurdity of political correctness.
Example,
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WEyCjN9riiY
From Back in the days when men were men and women weren’t!
My Way - Sinatra
And now, the end is near
And so I face the final curtain
My friend, I’ll say it clear
I’ll state my case, of which I’m certain
I’ve lived a life that’s full
I’ve traveled each and every highway
And more, much more than this
I did it my way
Regrets, I’ve had a few
But then again, too few to mention
I did what I had to do
And saw it through without exemption
I planned each charted course
Each careful step along the byway
And more, much more than this
I did it my way
Yes, there were times, I’m sure you knew
When I bit off more than I could chew
But through it all, when there was doubt
I ate it up and spit it out
I faced it all and I stood tall
And did it my way
I’ve loved, I’ve laughed and cried
I’ve had my fill, my share of losing
And now, as tears subside
I find it all, all so amusing
To think I did all that
And may I say, not in a shy way
Oh no, no, not me
I did it my way
For what is man, what has he got?
If not himself, then he has naught
To say the things he truly feels
And not the words of one who kneels
The record shows I took the blows
And did it my way
My favorite Kipling poem
Gods of the Copybook Headings
Maybe later. I’m watching Shakespeare in Love and can’t get past Gwyneth Paltrow with a mustache and chin whiskers.
I like the lyrics, always thought Frank was an ‘ass”.
The young males of our country are very lucky
For the first time in a generation we have a President who a father can point to and tell his son “that’s a man to emulate”.
Trump is courageous, incorruptible, ferociously hard working and will fight to end for what is right. He’s a virile and prime Alpha Male. A true leader.
“Does anyone else know some classoc literature about -
Manhood.”
https://www.artofmanliness.com/articles/mens-reading-list/
Well, during the late spring and summer, my wonderful hubby will get the Weber grill going. We are neanderthals who are still using a charcoal grill. About once a week, we will grill something; steaks, ribs, burgers, even a salmon filet (we live in the PNW). I enjoy this because it kind of gives me the day off from cooking (although I will do a vegetable dish); and, I like the flavor that grilling gives meat (please don't mention cancer, I like my grilled meat).
Anyway, I don't consider men grilling to be toxic at all. Who are these idiots?
I believe that Paul Anka was the writer of the lyrics.
That was beautiful! thank you
That poses quite a problem too! Not that there is anything wrong with that. (LOL)
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