While the worst are full of passionate intensity

     It's about a year and a half to the 2012 US presidential election and already the Republican field, such that it is, has turned nasty. The exception seems to be Jon Huntsman who is, at the moment, showing and espousing reason and civility. But others in his party (and particular, the other candidates) are decrying that very civility. And many think he hasn't a chance of the nomination because of it. Not that it affects me, particularly, as I'm way on the other side of the proverbial political spectrum. 

I've missed W.B. Yeats' birthday (June 13) by ten days.

     The first stanza of his poem, 'The Second Coming" has long reminded me of this most political of seasons (particularly the last eight words).

William Butler Yeats -- The Second Coming (first octet)

Turning and turning in the widening gyre
the falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world.
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
the ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
are full of passionate intensity.