In the very midst of the Revolution,
Lenin made a telling admission.

One evening, in the home of Y. P. Peshkova
listening to a Beethoven sonata,
he told his fellow revolutionary, Maxim Gorky,
that for the good of the Revolution,
he had to stop listening to Beethoven
even though it was his favorite music.

“It gets on my nerves,” he explained.
“Beethoven softens my heart
just at the exact moment
when it must be hardened
to the cries of humanity.
I must find the courage to break skulls.”

He knew in his heart
that the cold-blooded extermination
of Russia’s Czarist society
would not be brought about
by people who listen to Beethoven.

________________________________________________

Twice nominated for the Pushcart Prize, Gary Lehmann’s essays, poetry and short stories are widely published – over 100 pieces per year. Books include The Span I will Cross [Process Press, 2004] and Public Lives and Private Secrets [Foothills Publishing, 2005]. His most recent book is American Sponsored Torture [FootHills Publishing, 2007]. Visit his website: Gary Lehmann

Good Old Hank, Looking Trim

It may be Thursday, but some of us around here are still recovering from seeing Hank Williams III on Tuesday. We highly recommend seeing him, and, for good measure, a review is included in today’s Flurry. His grandfather is not recognized in the Grand Ole Opry, so sign the petition to reinstate him. Now down the roll we go. The Drug Czar has accomplished nothing worthwhile, but hopefully the Arts Czar will. Don’t forget the NEA can be a source of income for all of you starving artists out there. Nabokov’s son doesn’t need a grant after selling his father’s unfinished novella to Hugh Hefner. Look for it on E! this fall… Speaking of the sex industry, Savannah Sampson wouldn’t mind a Nabokovian plot, although we’re sure Lolita’s has been covered. Porn can be misogynist but so can God, who, in turn, wishes Vassily Aksyonov eternal peace. We have a reminder that nothing in life is free. Except Dark Sky Magazine. And, in case you missed it, the original issue of the New York Review of Books. Read, then go set the woods on fire. — Andrew Geer

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