October’s poem
Ecuador 0, Paraguay 0.
More futility.
The ref and the VAR failed to decree a penalty kick for us.
Such mistakes happen less often in these days of video review. I’ll be interested to listen when CONMEBOL publishes the booth officials’ audio.
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
A rather chilling poem by John Keats:
Netflix just released a new Unsolved Mysteries season. One episode shows Britons talking with the dead. These spiritualists, with their fancy electronics designed for listening to bat-calls, first seem nutty … and then, well, they record some strange things.
Most remarkable, to me, is one spiritualist’s less-than-admiring verdict of another: “He’s possessed.”
You’d think they would have considered that risk from the beginning.
More futility.
The ref and the VAR failed to decree a penalty kick for us.
Such mistakes happen less often in these days of video review. I’ll be interested to listen when CONMEBOL publishes the booth officials’ audio.
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
A rather chilling poem by John Keats:
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
This living hand, now warm and capable
Of earnest grasping, would, if it were cold
And in the icy silence of the tomb,
So haunt thy days and chill thy dreaming nights
That thou would wish thine own heart dry of blood
So in my veins red life might stream again,
And thou be conscience-calm’d – see here it is –
I hold it towards you.
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
Netflix just released a new Unsolved Mysteries season. One episode shows Britons talking with the dead. These spiritualists, with their fancy electronics designed for listening to bat-calls, first seem nutty … and then, well, they record some strange things.
Most remarkable, to me, is one spiritualist’s less-than-admiring verdict of another: “He’s possessed.”
You’d think they would have considered that risk from the beginning.