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Barns Courtney talks climate change, effect of modern society on the world and more. 

HiZeke
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22 июл 2020

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Комментарии : 4   
@kdalfndnfdjsf1702
@kdalfndnfdjsf1702 3 года назад
Artists who are educated on social and environmental issues and care so much like he does... this is so refreshing and makes it hard to not fall in love with him.
@Maven0666
@Maven0666 3 месяца назад
Inspiration and unconditional love always,Barns Courtney. Our water is toxic,Will we all fit in New Zealand?
@pocketfulsunshine6687
@pocketfulsunshine6687 4 года назад
Hey hey I'm first. Can't wait to watch the video💜
@PetitePorchPerformances
@PetitePorchPerformances 10 месяцев назад
A Brief For The Defense by Jack Gilbert Sorrow everywhere. Slaughter everywhere. If babies are not starving someplace, they are starving somewhere else. With flies in their nostrils. But we enjoy our lives because that’s what God wants. Otherwise the mornings before summer dawn would not be made so fine. The Bengal tiger would not be fashioned so miraculously well. The poor women at the fountain are laughing together between the suffering they have known and the awfulness in their future, smiling and laughing while somebody in the village is very sick. There is laughter every day in the terrible streets of Calcutta, and the women laugh in the cages of Bombay. If we deny our happiness, resist our satisfaction, we lessen the importance of their deprivation. We must risk delight. We can do without pleasure, but not delight. Not enjoyment. We must have the stubbornness to accept our gladness in the ruthless furnace of this world. To make injustice the only measure of our attention is to praise the Devil. If the locomotive of the Lord runs us down, we should give thanks that the end had magnitude. We must admit there will be music despite everything. We stand at the prow again of a small ship anchored late at night in the tiny port looking over to the sleeping island: the waterfront is three shuttered cafés and one naked light burning. To hear the faint sound of oars in the silence as a rowboat comes slowly out and then goes back is truly worth all the years of sorrow that are to come.
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