Parties fall apart; the center cannot hold. (We've sure seen that.) Mere anarchy is loosed upon the political world. (Have a look at the morning paper.) The best among them lack all conviction, while the worst are full of passionate intensity. (Cast your eyes toward the capital.) It can make us wonder what rough beast, its hour come round at last, slouches toward Washington to be born. (We can only dread.)
Can it be that William Butler Yeats, a Protestant steeped in the nationalism of Catholic Ireland and writing during the post-World War I pandemic, understood perfectly the tides of American politics? Can it be that his vision — sharpened by the struggles his father and pregnant wife waged against the deadly flu — helps us understand the contemporary threat to civic comity?
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Keep it Clean. Please avoid obscene, vulgar, lewd, racist or sexually-oriented language.
PLEASE TURN OFF YOUR CAPS LOCK.
Don't Threaten. Threats of harming another person will not be tolerated.
Be Truthful. Don't knowingly lie about anyone or anything.
Be Nice. No racism, sexism or any sort of -ism that is degrading to another person.
Be Proactive. Use the 'Report' link on each comment to let us know of abusive posts.
Share with Us. We'd love to hear eyewitness accounts, the history behind an article.