William T Thompson Quotes

...convention [is] the most subtle but oppressive dictator. [Edith 'Ditte' Thompson]

[Esme] 'And then I was born and then she [her mother Lily] died.' [Edith 'Ditte' Thompson, her godmother] 'Yes.' 'But when we talk about her, she comes to life.' 'Never forget that Esme. Words are our tools of resurrection.

It is not enough to raise consciousness. One must lower the spirit into the earth to embody a change in things as basic as food, shelter, and livelihood.

That shoreline where the island of knowing meets the unfathomable sea of our own being is the landscape of myth.

Stay busy--I cannot overstate the benefits of a busy day for an anxious mind or a lonely heart. [Edith 'Ditte' Thompson, in letter to Esme Nicholl Owen]

The acid test is that all paranoids and fundamentalists lack a sense of humor, for humor is a chaos flux and flexibility, of ambiguity and multi-dimensionality, and that kind of erotic liveliness is precisely what the fundamentalist is trying to eliminate in holding rigidly to doctrine.

It is my place to remind you of the rules,” Stefan said, his voice even. “You, William Frost, have chosen three against three. Two fighters, with you as the captain of yours, and Marsilia as the captain of hers, with the other two participants on either side yet to be chosen. The fight is to the death of the captains.” “Excuse me,” I said diffidently. “But both the captains are already dead.” Everyone looked at me. The vampires with cold, unfriendly gazes, and Honey as if I were crazy. That was okay—because I was utterly crazy.

Praise dulls the intellect. [Beth Thompson, quoting Dr. James Murray]

There are some writers who sweep us along so strongly in their current of energy--Normal mailer, Tom Wolfe, Toni Morrison, William F. Buckley, Jr., Hunter Thompson, David Foster Wallace, Dave Eggers--that we assume that when they go to work the words just flow. Nobody thinks of the effort they made every morning to turn on the switch. You also have to turn on the switch. Nobody is going to do it for you.

Over a period of time (roughly 100 years) a world power emerges from a global war only to experience a gradual decay in its position of preponderance,” writes Thompson. “Global order decays at a parallel rate until a new global war occurs and facilitates the emergence of a new world power.

Christ is both the One and the Many. William Thompson states that Merton’s view of the transcultural Christ means the emergence of “a person of such inner calm and personal and cultural detachment that she is capable of recognizing and perspectivizing the genuine values present in every person and every culture.

the poet William Irwin Thompson wrote: “When we come to an edge we come to a frontier that tells us that we are now about to become more than we have been before.” For

Samuel Johnson: “He who makes a beast of himself gets rid of the pain of being a man.

Fast-fame takeouts litter the information superhighway strips of the new electronic america.

The rhythm of the weekend was picking up … a huge beer delivery, the rending of metal, greedy laughter and a rumble of excitement when Sonny told what had happened at Williams’ store.

Poor Williams was left holding the civic bag; he had taken a gutsy stand, his image was all moxie . . . and on Monday night, when the Angels were finally gone, he had earned the leisure that enabled him to go out to the lakefront and gaze off in a proud wistful way, like Gatsby, at the green neon lights of the tavern across the water, where the others were counting their money.

The real secret to freedom seems to lie in the ability to deal with ambiguity, the capacity to tolerate noise and yet hear within its wild randomizing abandon the possibilities of innovation and transformations.

History is made up of "moral" judgments based on politics. We condemned Lenin's acceptance of money from the Germans in 1917 but were discreetly silent while our Colonel William B. Thompson in the same year contributed a million dollars to the anti-Bolsheviks in Russia. As allies of the Soviets in World War II we praised and cheered communist guerrilla tactics when the Russians used them against the Nazis during the Nazi invasion of the Soviet Union; we denounce the same tactics when they are used by communist forces in different parts of the world against us. The opposition's means, used against us, are always immoral and our means are always ethical and rooted in the highest of human values.

In 2014, another CDC whistleblower, the agency’s senior vaccine safety scientist, Dr. William Thompson, disclosed that top CDC officials had forced him and four other senior researchers to lie to the public and destroy data that showed disproportionate vaccine injuries—including a 340 percent elevated risk for autism—in Black male infants who received the Measles, Mumps, Rubella (MMR) vaccine on schedule.

Let us be practical in our expectations of the Criminal Law.… [For] we have merely to imagine, by some trick of time travel, meeting our earliest hominid ancestor, Adam, a proto-man, short of stature, luxuriantly furred, newly bipedal, foraging about on the African savannah three million or so years ago. Now, let us agree that we may pronounce whatever laws we like for this clever little creature, still it would be unwise to pet him.” —REYNARD THOMPSON, A General Theory of Human Violence (1921)

Let us be practical in our expectations of the Criminal Law.… [For] we have merely to imagine, by some trick of time travel, meeting our earliest hominid ancestor, Adam, a proto-man, short of stature, luxuriantly furred, newly bipedal, foraging about on the African savannah three million or so years ago. Now, let us agree that we may pronounce whatever laws we like for this clever little creature, still it would be unwise to pet him.” —REYNARD THOMPSON,    A General Theory of Human Violence (1921)

Similarly, women collectively are coerced into marriage although any woman is free to remain single. William Thompson compared women’s freedom to decline to marry with that of the freedom of peasants to refuse to buy food from the East India monopoly which had already cornered all the supplies; ‘so by male-created laws, depriving women of knowledge and skill, excluding them from the benefit of all judgment and mind-creating offices and trusts, cutting them off almost entirely from the participation, by succession or otherwise, of property, and from its uses and exchanges – are women kindly told, “they are free to marry or not”.

To return to my point about the immense power that his enemies attribute to him, Orwell once wrote about the ‘large, vague renown’ that constituted the popular memory of Thomas Carlyle. His own reputation has long been of that kind, if not rather greater and more precise. But this is not the same as moving millions to despair and apathy (Deutscher), or spoiling the morale of a whole generation (Williams), or authoring a work of fiction that was in fact, in rather cunning disguise, the work of an entire ‘culture’ (Thompson). In some semi-articulated way, many major figures of the Left have thought of Orwell as an enemy, and an important and frightening one. This was true to a somewhat lesser extent in his own lifetime. And, again, the dislike or distrust can be illustrated by a simple—or at any rate a simple-minded—confusion of categories. It was widely said, and believed, of Orwell that he had written the damning sentence: ‘The working classes smell.’ This statement of combined snobbery and heresy was supposedly to be found in The Road to Wigan Pier; in other words—since the book was a main selection of Victor Gollancz’s Left Book Club—it could be checked and consulted. But it obviously never was checked or consulted, because in those pages Orwell only says that middle-class people, such as his own immediate forebears, were convinced that the working classes smelled. Victor Gollancz himself, though hopelessly at odds with Orwell in matters of politics, issued a denial on his behalf that he had ever said, or written, that ‘the working classes smell.’ It made no difference. As his published correspondence shows, every time Orwell wrote anything objectionable to the Left, up would come this old charge again, having attained the mythic status that placed it beyond mere factual refutation. It feels silly even to go over this pettiness again, but the identical method—of attributing to him the outlook that he attributed to others—is employed in our own time in critical discussions of ‘Inside the Whale.

There was a new president and a new Congress but each was bound to follow the law as set down in the Constitution. They were Republican, they were isolationist, and among them, yes, there were anti-Semites—as indeed there were among the southerners in FDR’s own party—but that was a long way from their being Nazis. Besides, one had only to listen on Sunday nights to Winchell lashing out at the new president and “his friend Joe Goebbels” or hear him listing the sites under consideration by the Department of the Interior for building concentration camps—sites mainly located in Montana, the home state of Lindbergh’s “national unity” vice president, the isolationist Democrat Burton K. Wheeler—to be assured of the fervor with which the new administration was being scrutinized by favorite reporters of my father’s, like Winchell and Dorothy Thompson and Quentin Reynolds and William L. Shirer, and, of course, by the staff of PM. Even I now took my turn with PM when my father brought it home at night, and not just to read the comic strip Barnaby

I never saw human beings treated like this,” another prisoner later recalled. He couldn’t understand: “Why all the hatred?”57 But it wasn’t just any hatred—it was racial hatred. As one prisoner was told by a trooper who had a gun trained on him: he would soon be dead because “we haven’t killed enough niggers.”58 Everywhere there were cries of “Keep your nigger nose down!”59 “Don’t you know state troopers don’t like niggers?”60 “Don’t move nigger! You’re dead!”61 Underscoring just how much racial hatred was fueling trooper rage in D Yard, one prisoner, William Maynard, tried to carry Jomo to safety after he had been shot multiple times. As Maynard struggled along, a CO ordered him to stop and put his hands in the air. As he dutifully put his hands up, still trying to balance Jomo on his shoulders, the CO shot him twice in the forearms. As Maynard fell in a heap, with Jomo on top of him, this same officer “loaded up his gun and shot Jomo six times right on top of me and kicked me in the face and says both the niggers are dead and went on.

The 1890s were apprentice years for Yeats. Though he played with Indian and Irish mythology, his symbolism really developed later. The decade was for him, as a poet, the years of lyric, of the Rhymers’ Club, of those contemporaries whom he dubbed the ‘tragic generation’. ‘I have known twelve men who killed themselves,’ Arthur Symons looked back from his middle-aged madness, reflecting on the decade of which he was the doyen. The writers and artists of the period lived hectically and recklessly. Ernest Dowson (1867–1900) (one of the best lyricists of them all – ‘I cried for madder music and for stronger wine’) died from consumption at thirty-two; Lionel Johnson (1867–1902), a dipsomaniac, died aged thirty-five from a stroke. John Davidson committed suicide at fifty-two; Oscar Wilde, disgraced and broken by prison and exile, died at forty-six; Aubrey Beardsley died at twenty-six. This is not to mention the minor figures of the Nineties literary scene: William Theodore Peters, actor and poet, who starved to death in Paris; Hubert Crankanthorpe, who threw himself in the Thames; Henry Harland, editor of The Yellow Book, who died of consumption aged forty-three, or Francis Thompson, who fled the Hound of Heaven ‘down the nights and down the days’ and who died of the same disease aged forty-eight. Charles Conder (1868–1909), water-colourist and rococo fan-painter, died in an asylum aged forty-one.

MH: In an early letter to William Kennedy you spoke of the "dry rot" of American journalism. Tell me what you think. What's the state of the American press currently? HST: The press today is like the rest of the country. Maybe you need a war. Wars tend to bring out out the best in them. War was everywhere you looked in the sixties, extending into the seventies. Now there are no wars to fight. You know, it's the old argument about why doesn't the press report the good news? Well, now the press is reporting the good news, and it's not as much fun. The press has been taken in by Clinton. And by the amalgamation of politics. Nobody denies that the parties are more alike than they are different. No, the press has failed, failed utterly -- they've turned into slovenly rotters. Particularly The New York Times, which has come to be a bastion of political correctness. I think my place in history as defined by the PC people would be pretty radically wrong. Maybe I could be set up as a target at the other end of the spectrum. I feel more out of place now than I did under Nixon. Yeah, that's weird. There's something going on here, Mr. Jones, and you don't know what it is, do you? Yeah, Clinton has been a much more successfully deviant president than Nixon was. You can bet if the stock market fell to 4,000 and if four million people lost their jobs there'd be a lot of hell to pay, but so what? He's already re-elected. Democracy as a system has evolved into something that Thomas Jefferson didn't anticipate. Or maybe he did, at the end of his life. He got very bitter about the press. And what is it he said? "I tremble for my nation when I reflect that God is just"? That's a guy who's seen the darker side. Yeah, we've become a nation of swine. - HST - The Atlantic , August 26, 1997

I’ll never forget the time I went duck-hunting with my buddy Mike Williams; you’ll read a lot about our adventures and shenanigans in this book. Mike and I were hunting blue-winged teal ducks, which tend to move en masse, so typically you’ll either shoot your limit or not see a duck. In other words, there is a lot of idle time involved with teal hunting, so we usually bring along our fishing poles. After a hunt with Mike one morning, in which we had not seen a single teal, I hooked a four-pound bass. Almost simultaneously, one lone blue-winged teal flew over our heads. As I was reeling in the bass, I reached for my shotgun, raised it with only my left hand, and shot the duck. Now, I’m right-handed but left-eye dominant. It was the first duck I ever shot left-handed, but it would be the first of many. I eventually made the switch to shooting left-handed permanently. It was the hardest obstacle I’ve ever had to overcome in hunting, but it made me a better shot because I’m left-eye dominant. When Mike and I went back to my dad’s house and told him what happened, Phil didn’t believe us, even though we had the teal and bass as evidence. He’d told us about a similar feat many times before, when his friend Hookin’ Bull Thompson pulled in a fish with one hand and shot a duck with the other. I had heard the story many time, but only then did I realize it had now been duplicated. No matter how many times we told Phil about what I did, he didn’t believe us. He thought we made the entire story up because of the countless times he’d bragged about witnessing his buddy’s epic feat. Now, Mike is one of the most honest people you’ll meet, so he couldn’t believe Phil thought we were lying to him. “I’m going to sign an affidavit about what you did,” Mike told me. “Maybe then he’ll believe us.” “Oh, drop it,” I said. “That’s just how my family rolls.

In Washington, truth is never told in daylight hours or across a desk,

This is our country, too, and we can goddam well control it if we learn to use the tools. —HST, 1969

Does it look like [drugs have] fucked me up? I’m sitting here on a beautiful beach in Mexico; I’ve written three books. I’ve got a fine one-hundred acre fortress in Colorado.On that evidence, I’d have to advise the use of drugs. —HST to Craig Vetter, 1974

Capone once famously said, “All I do is to supply a public demand…somebody had to throw some liquor on that thirst. Why not me?”  He brilliantly coordinated the importation of liquor from all across America while in charge of the operation of hundreds of distilleries. To do so, he had his own distribution system, which involved hiring delivery drivers, salespeople, and of course, armed bodyguards—his own “miniature army” riding beside his bullet-proof limousine—to protect his investments. Capone ingeniously bought immunity by paying off politicians, law enforcement agents, and even the Mayor of Chicago, William H. Thompson, whom he helped with thousands of dollars and votes enough to win the seat.

In Zilboorg’s interpretation of the primal scene, women become sexual and economic slaves in the family. The co-operative socialist William Thompson provided a similar conjectural history of the origin of marriage. He argued that, ‘in the beginning’, men’s greater strength, aided by cunning, enabled them to enslave women. Men would have turned women into mere labourers except that they depend on women to satisfy their sexual, desires. If men had no sexual desire, or if the propagation of the species did not depend on men’s intervention in a form which also provided sexual gratification, there would have been no need for the institution in which ‘each man yokes a woman to his establishment, and calls it a contract.’ Women are ‘parcelled out amongst men, . . . one weak always coupled and subjected to one strong’.

First, song refers to any complex, nonverbal, learned vocalization, and we see instances of song in most musical systems around the world.

Down a narrow, nondescript Bangkok lane, the graceful red roofs of a traditional Thai residence rise above a lush tropical garden, in serene contrast with the city's modern clamor all around. This was the home of an American named Jim Thompson, and it stands today as a continuing memorial to a remarkable man and to his love for Thailand's rich culture.

The actors are organizations, not individuals. Individuals do the actual fighting, but they fight on behalf of a larger collective political unit, under the direction and coordination of political and/or military leaders, to advance the goals of the collectivity, or at least of its leadership. An individual who acts on his own to kill a border guard, or who crosses a border to kill citizens of another political system, is not engaging in war. But if that individual is part of a political system’s formal military organization, and that military organization engages in a sustained campaign of violence against the military organization of another state or another organized group, we would call it a war.

As Frederick the Great of Prussia is widely reputed to have said, “Diplomacy without force is like music without instruments.

Great things are done when men and mountains meet.” William Blake

There are authors I truly enjoy to read, like John Irving and Don Delillo and Vollman and Hubert Selby Jr. and Hunter S. Thompson. And then there are writers that, while I enjoy their work, I read as a challenge to myself, to sharpen my knives, like Goethe or Genet or Faulkner or Joyce or Salinger. And I have a terrible weakness for music biographies. They are the best books to take on the road. I don't even have to like the band to enjoy the book. Want a wonderful literary anecdote? And watch your toes, because I'm dropping names like bricks. My favorite book of all time is Among The Dead by Michael Tolkin. Wonderful, dark, funny book.

theories such as those advanced by Le Sage (1782), W. Thompson

In this Postscript I distinguish references back to the revised text of this book by placing these in italics thus (262), from references to the works of other authors under discussion, which are thus (p. 162). account

Dr. William Thompson, disclosed that top CDC officials had forced him and four other senior researchers to lie to the public and destroy data that showed disproportionate vaccine injuries—including a 340 percent elevated risk for autism—in Black male infants who received the Measles, Mumps, Rubella (MMR) vaccine on schedule.5 So it was only natural that Dr. Fauci and his Pharma partners employed Black and Hispanic foster children for cruel and barbaric treatments in their efforts to develop their second-generation antivirals and chimeric HIV vaccines that provided the initial stepping-stones for his career.

The scam boggles the mind when we consider that three of the top officers of the Federal Reserve Bank of New York publicly supported Bolshevism – Sanders, Peabody and William Boyce Thompson.

Let us not silence the chroniclers. We may not like the choices our ancestors made but so what? We didn’t walk in their shoes. Life goes on. Same as today. Some people, as they make their matrix game (Weird Tit-for-Tat) choices, are compassionate; some, clearly, are not. If the past has a story to tell we should hear it. We might see a bit of ourselves (or our enemies) and our game choices in the decisions of Squire Davis, Jennet Ferguson, William Ferguson (Sr and Jr), Mary Ferguson, Barton Farr, David Thompson 1, Richard Brown, Addie Miller, Isabella Davis, Joseph Brant Thayendanegea, Lucille Goosay, Jeddah Golden, Nellah Golden, Pierre Beauchemin, Jake Venti, Aughguaga Polly, Sara Johnson, Lizzie Bosson, William John, Bride Munny, Boy Hewson.

He had just reached the high-rise apartment building called Hamilton House, with the US flag and the Union Jack fluttering in the open windows, when a parade came in his direction. Trumpets, horns, and drums were playing “The Stars and Stripes Forever,” a familiar tune he had heard the American sailors whistle in the bar. It was a relief, a boost of confidence, to see the armed forces. So Miriam was right. With the Fourth Marines, the Americans were protected at least. He rushed to the sidewalk, stood behind three businessmen carrying file cases, a girl carrying a violin case, and an old woman walking with a cocker spaniel, and watched. The leading man in the parade wore an olive officer visor. Ernest recognized him; it was Colonel William Ashurst. He was singing, his face pale and etched with worries. Behind him were the Fourth Marines, all fitted in their jackets with utility pouches tucked snugly around their waists. As they marched, they each pulled the strap aslant across their chests, holding what could be a semiautomatic Garand rifle or maybe a Thompson submachine. The rhythm of the trumpets, the drums, and the singing lifted Ernest’s spirits. He walked along, following the parade, waving at the colonel, who didn’t pay him attention. When the regiment reached the wharf at the river, the singing stopped. The colonel saluted and shouted, and the regiment jumped into a large white liner behind the cruiser USS Wake. Someone in the crowd cried out, followed by a string of sobs. Someone else shouted, “God bless you! Goodbye!” It was a farewell parade. Ernest overheard someone say that the Americans were to sail for the Philippines. His heart dropped.

UBIQUITOUS SCOTS As the British Empire grew, Scots found themselves scattered to the corners of the Earth – an experience which often profoundly changed them. Few changed as much as Thomas Keith. Born in Edinburgh, he enlisted in the 78th (Highlanders) Regiment of Foot and was sent to Egypt as part of the Alexandria expedition of 1807. Captured near Rosetta, he was bought as a slave by Ahmad Aga, and he and his compatriot, William Thompson, decided to convert to Islam. Thomas became Ibrahim Aga and William, Osman. After fighting a duel with an Egyptian soldier, Thomas sought the protection of the wife of a powerful figure, Muhammad Ali Pasha, and she sent him into the service of her son, Tusun Pasha. In 1811 he joined an expedition to fight the Wahhabis of what is now Saudi Arabia, and four years later he was appointed Acting Governor of the holy city of Medina, the burial place of the Prophet Mohammed.

Baudelaire, William Blake, D. H. Lawrence, William Burroughs, Henry Miller, Jack Kerouac, Lenny Bruce, Ken Kesey, the Beatles, and Hunter S. Thompson were as much the fathers of Saturday Night as Kovacs, Carson, Benny, and Berle. Dan Aykroyd called it Gonzo Television. They were video guerrillas, he’d say. Every show was an assault mission.

Sylvia Plath, John Berryman, Virginia Woolf, David Foster Wallace, Seneca, Hunter S. Thompson, Ernest Hemingway, William Inge, Anne Sexton, Hart Crane, Yukio Mishima, and John Kennedy Toole.

Among these, one stood out, the cultural historian William Irwin Thompson who explored a Pythagorean vision of the universe in his many books. To deepen his research, he created the Lindisfarne Association, housed in Manhattan’s Church of the Holy Communion, which

The CDC autism study scandal is far from over. The grave danger now is that the US Government silences Thompson.

It was just Dylan, with a murmuring electric guitar, and the louder Hunter played the song, the larger were the spaces in the music, allowing him to crawl inside.

Stranahan kept his home in Aspen and accumulated more property. Also a fine-arts photographer, human-rights activist, philanthropist, beer brewer (the Flying Dog brands), and frustrated delinquent, he was drawn to Hunter and arranged the lease for the three-level house, a smaller cabin nearby, and a stable, and the acreage resting on top of a bluff.

Hunter Thompson wrote suicide notes all his life.

I’ve gone to the bottom of the well,” Hunter said, “and the animal’s not down there.

Buy the ticket, take the ride,

Chicago—this vicious, stinking zoo, this mean-grinning, Mace-smelling boneyard of a city; an elegant rockpile monument to everything cruel and stupid and corrupt in the human spirit.

Think of William James, one floor down, back in Philosophy, who once compared any attempt to study human consciousness to turning on a lamp in order to better examine the dark.

This quickly led to a fatalistic attitude. Company trader William Walker wrote in 1781 that “they are frightened of going nigh one to another as soon as they take bad, so the one half for want of indulgencies is starved before they can gather Strength to help themselves. They think when they are once taken bad they need not look for any recovery. So the person that’s bad turns feeble that he cannot walk, they leave them behind when they’re pitching away, and so the poor Soul perishes.” Many travellers, including such astute observers as David Thompson, wrote of how the men in particular, when under the influence of a raging fever, would throw themselves into the freezing water, and thereby perish from exposure.

ethnocentrism—the tendency to evaluate the customs of other groups according to one’s own cultural standards.

He breakfasted on bloody marys and beer and drank Wild Turkey and Chivas by the tumbler, but he was rarely shit-faced.

He was able to persuade the accounting department to pay for the cocaine Hunter had purchased to get members of the Oakland Raiders to open up during interviews.

He still lived as if he were twenty-two.

I have stolen more quotes and thoughts and purely elegant little starbursts of writing from the Book of Revelation than anything else in the English language,” Hunter wrote. “I love the wild power of the language and the purity of the madness that governs it and makes it music.

I secretly worship God,” Hunter wrote near the end of his life. “He had the good judgment to leave me alone to write a few genuine black-on-white pages by myself.

Running had become the new sport of the ritualistic liberal.

I am a bigot. I’m what they called a ‘multibigot.’ . . . A unibigot is a racist. A multibigot is just a prick.

There was this guy lying on the couch,” Laila recalled. “I had no idea who he was. I just remember thinking, ‘Uh-oh.’ I had this feeling as if a bomb had dropped. I kind of knew from the second I saw him that I would either love him or hate him.

David Felton, his former editor at Rolling Stone, called it “probably the worst-edited and most self-indulgent work since the Bible. There doesn’t seem to be any order.

When Bonds chose to speak to teammates, it usually concerned one topic-Barry Bonds. Behind his back, Williams and Thompson nicknamed Bonds "I-I-Me-Me." If Bonds wasn't discussing his fabulous talents, he was discussing his fat wallet, his new car, his amazing house, his beautiful women. Mark Dewey, a Giants pitcher who lockered near Bonds, could not stand it. Every minute there seemed to be a new boast. 'I was going crazy,' says Dewey. 'So one day I began reading to Barry from the Bible." Dewey encouraged Bonds to make God and his children his priority, and focus less on money. 'That was my way of rebuking him,' says Dewey. Did it work? 'Well,' says Dewey, 'no.