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Showing posts with label Eugenics. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Eugenics. Show all posts

Saturday, November 13, 2010

Mendel's Strain [Today's News Poem, November 13, 2010]

Mendel's Strain [Today's News Poem, November 13, 2010]

A German pea was a credit to master
Races; grooming the soil for the interest.
Its tendrils have strangled the grasses, seedlings:
Fascist, an army of plunder, punishing
What should starve and recycle itself to mulch.
When pumpkins invade and their giant, spiny
Leaves take possession of sun, all pray if they
Can imagine an architect for this war
Of season and pleasure sometimes, though fading.
Light is a sliver; scarcity's permanent
And we kill to live, for the hour will fade.

"Mr. Sarrazin says his book can be boiled down to a few main ideas. To begin, ethnic Germans are having too few children, while Muslim immigrants are having too many... Second, Mr. Sarrazin believes that intelligence is inherited, not nurtured..."
—MICHAEL SLACKMAN, The New York Times, Published: November 12, 2010
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/11/13/world/europe/13sarrazin.html

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Tuesday, March 02, 2010

Revenge of the Mud People [Today's News Poem, March 2, 2010]

Revenge of the Mud People [Today's News Poem, March 2, 2010]

“Because of this buffering action, culture was thought to have blunted the rate of human evolution, or even brought it to a halt, in the distant past.”
--Nicholas Wade, March 1, 2010
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/03/02/science/02evo.html?8dpc

Eugenicists have often said
Our species weakens as it's bred
With imbeciles who reproduce
At faster rates; and thus reduce
Intelligence collectively.
At times the masters actively
Conspire to cull a populace.
I say we find the proper place
For every trait—from theft to art.
The brain survives on other parts:
A plague could kill most humankind,
Exterminate our finest minds—
For now, on tech we might depend;
But when it's gone, what's left to fend
For us but selves? Our cells, our genes,
Our friends, our clans—our very means
Of life depends on traits unknown
Since death cares not for what we hone.
And since in death and life the test
Of merit lies—in not who's best,
But rather those who live in peace
And leave behind no single piece
Of who we are, or were, or seek
To be—in those who shelter weak
And gentle beings—in them our blood's
Ennobled: lifted from the mud.

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