Providing a bully pulpit, a perch, a roof, a soap box for fiddlers, Quakers, Seekers, roosters, malcontents, true radicals, free thinkers or anyone with a beating heart and a working mind.
In the spirit of Thoreau's chanticleer.
"I do not propose to write an ode to dejection, but to brag as lustily as chanticleer in the morning, standing on his roost, if only to wake my neighbors up."
Henry David Thoreau, on his 200th birthday, is an American immortal who got there the hard way – against the grain of his town and his times. By now he’s the heroic non-conformist who modeled his brief life on religious convictions: that every human being has an original relation with divine spirit, and that on earth a man must become a majority of one. So he made a dissenting record living apart, and walking the woods more like a Native American, he felt, than a Yankee. Never to church, never married, never voted and didn’t pay his taxes. He talked to the trees as almost-people, and he caressed the fish in his stream like almost-children. Manly and able “but rarely tender,” he won Emerson’s obituary praise that flatters us, too: “no truer American existed,” Emerson said, than Henry Thoreau. The prophet of Concord is our subject this hour on Open Source.