Around
the web recently there has been lot of discussion about the use of windmills for
our future energy needs, notably that most of the rural areas and scenic hills
etc. will be plastered with them at high cost and to not much good effect.
Raedwald
has a brief but acerbic comment on the immediate situation with reference
to Conservative policy being based on the requirements of their corporate
friends. For my part I can say only
cough now and think of Hinckley Point.
It brings to memory the
late 1960's hit "Windmills of the Mind" in the clip by Noel Harrison
on Youtube.
A
long time ago perhaps, but it makes a lot more sense than present or past
government policy on the subject of both windmills in particular or energy
policy as a whole.
Full
text of the song below, if interested.
"Windmills
of the Mind".
Round
like a circle in a spiral, like a wheel within a wheel
Never ending or beginning on an ever spinning reel
Like a snowball down a mountain, or a carnival balloon
Like a carousel that's turning running rings around the moon
Like a clock whose hands are sweeping past the minutes of its face
And the world is like an apple whirling silently in space
Like the circles that you find in the windmills of your mind!
Like a snowball down a mountain, or a carnival balloon
Like a carousel that's turning running rings around the moon
Like a clock whose hands are sweeping past the minutes of its face
And the world is like an apple whirling silently in space
Like the circles that you find in the windmills of your mind!
Like a tunnel that you follow to a tunnel of its own
Down a hollow to a cavern where the sun has never shone
Like a door that keeps revolving in a half forgotten dream
Or the ripples from a pebble someone tosses in a stream
Like a clock whose hands are sweeping past the minutes of its face
And the world is like an apple whirling silently in space
Like the circles that you find in the windmills of your mind!
Down a hollow to a cavern where the sun has never shone
Like a door that keeps revolving in a half forgotten dream
Or the ripples from a pebble someone tosses in a stream
Like a clock whose hands are sweeping past the minutes of its face
And the world is like an apple whirling silently in space
Like the circles that you find in the windmills of your mind!
Keys that jingle in your pocket, words that jangle in your head
Why did summer go so quickly? Was it something that you said?
Lovers walking along a shore and leave their footprints in the sand
Is the sound of distant drumming just the fingers of your hand?
Pictures hanging in a hallway and the fragment of a song
Half remembered names and faces, but to whom do they belong?
When you knew that it was over you were suddenly aware
That the autumn leaves were turning to the color of her hair!
Like a circle in a spiral, like a wheel within a wheel
Never ending or beginning on an ever spinning reel
As the images unwind, like the circles that you find in
The windmills of your mind!
Why did summer go so quickly? Was it something that you said?
Lovers walking along a shore and leave their footprints in the sand
Is the sound of distant drumming just the fingers of your hand?
Pictures hanging in a hallway and the fragment of a song
Half remembered names and faces, but to whom do they belong?
When you knew that it was over you were suddenly aware
That the autumn leaves were turning to the color of her hair!
Like a circle in a spiral, like a wheel within a wheel
Never ending or beginning on an ever spinning reel
As the images unwind, like the circles that you find in
The windmills of your mind!
Keys that jingle in your pocket, words that jangle in your head
When did summer go so quickly? Was it something that you said?
Lovers walking along a shore and leave their footprints in the sand.
When did summer go so quickly? Was it something that you said?
Lovers walking along a shore and leave their footprints in the sand.
Is the sound of distant drumming just the fingers of your hand?
Pictures hanging in a hallway and the fragment of a song
Half remembered names and faces, but to whom do they belong?
When you knew that it was over in the autumn of good-byes
For a moment you could not recall the color of his eyes!
Like a circle in a spiral, like a wheel within a wheel
Never ending or beginning on an ever spinning reel
As the images unwind, like the circles that you find in
The windmills of your mind!
Half remembered names and faces, but to whom do they belong?
When you knew that it was over in the autumn of good-byes
For a moment you could not recall the color of his eyes!
Like a circle in a spiral, like a wheel within a wheel
Never ending or beginning on an ever spinning reel
As the images unwind, like the circles that you find in
The windmills of your mind!
What concerns me about the windmills isn't that they don't work or that a child could see why they don't work. It's the greed and stupidity behind them that is really worrying.
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