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.
Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?
W. B. Yeats – 1865-1939
If you find yourself still asking, but what does that mean? Look no further than the post
“Let me be blunt: you’ve been played for idiots. Idios, in the original Greek, means an independent agent, belonging to oneself. That is how I mean it. The designer of the Sexual Revolution believed you’d go so far to sacrifice your own families for sexual autonomy (most of you aren’t even married yet, but you’ve severed yourselves from what your ancestors handed down, a process of cutting begun by your grandfathers).”