“But while Marx is honoured as a great thinker, Lassalle is adored as a great leader. His striking figure and meteoric career have made a deep impression upon the hearts and minds of the organized masses; his romantic, though foolish, end, his human failings, even his egoism endear him to them. They have enshrined his memory in poetry and song, while it appears to be as impossible for them to be lyrical over Marx as it is to set Das Kapital to music.” — W. Stephen Sanders, The Socialist Movement in Germany, Fabian Society Tract #169, February 1913, p.9.
Archive for August, 2005
The press tells me that cricket-mania is sweeping the country, and I now have a datapoint of my own to prove it. This morning, for the first time, I’ve heard several cries of “LBW!” coming from one of the gardens just down the road from us — and, weirdo that I am, I find myself wondering whether the ball might just have pitched outside Channel Four’s “red zone” on the leg-side. I should have thought that the gardens round here were too small for a good game of cricket, but I think the people playing are quite small, too, so that may make a difference.
(I also found myself explaining in some detail the rules about substitute fielders the other day. That’s not a regular feature of life, either.)
W. E. B. Du Bois, author of The Souls of Black Folk and Black Reconstruction in America (among others); born, Massachusetts, 23 February 1868, died, Ghana, 27 August, 1963.
A rain delay after lunch on the first day of the fourth Test means I have time for a bumper edition of TKB. Here we see the kittens despairing of the Australian bowlers’ problems with no-balls:
Enkidu has found himself an advantageous perch at the top of the stairs:
A fearsome mouse…
And finally: Andromache pauses on her way down the stairs:
More to come…