Hotel Terminus, Vienna
Unspeakable’s the word for it,
The noise at dawn each time I stay
At Hotel Terminus, right in
The city’s heart. This mix of moan,
Roar whimper scream and sigh gulped down,
The manager is sure, as though
I’m half-witted for having asked,
Is nothing more than pigeons round
The trash bins in the kitchen yard.
But even so, from the eighth floor,
That otherwise is perfect for
A good night’s sleep, this sound, which as
It startles me awake and has
Me fighting to set my thoughts straight,
Can only come from souls in hell,
And is the same that I have heard
Underpinning Beethoven’s work
And Mozart’s music for the dead.
Graeme Hetherington
Madam: Archbishop Fisher (July-August 2024) does not resist the attacks on his church by the political, social or scientific atheists and those who insist on not being told what to do.
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6 mins
To claim Aborigines have the world's oldest continuous culture is to misunderstand the meaning of culture, which continuously changes over time and location. For a culture not to change over time would be a reproach and certainly not a cause for celebration, for it would indicate that there had been no capacity to adapt. Clearly this has not been the case
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23 mins
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2 mins