Banal magic. Walking along the early December streets when the world is silent but my mind isn’t.
The fog and humidity that permeated the air made the attempt of a snapshot tricky. Because my brain is a feedback loop, the words from SFU ran through my head: “…it’s already gone.” But I tried because sometimes in the briefest of intervals and through the indiscernible capricious luck of the moment, I get a picture that defies the inability to describe the universe in my head at that moment.
One such picture escaped me. As I walked the dead end length of Leverett, rabbit after rabbit fled from the greens of the apartment complex and across the road into the thick brush. At least a hundred of them made the odyssey in front of me along that strip of road. Does the moment sound magical or mirthsome to people after the fact? Probably not; such moments require presence.
When I doubled back down Poplar, a man on a ridiculously large bicycle asked if I had any money. I told him no. I saw him near the torn up section of sidewalk being rebuilt near the trail and suspected he might ask me something as I approached. I didn’t catch what he said in reply but the tone was inescapable. “I’m sorry. Have a good morning,”I told him. “F*** you,”he said. “Anatomically improbable,” was my reply. I once again did not catch his response. I’m certain my life is much better because of it.
As I walked the streets, I took a long look at all the houses still lit up by Christmas lights. I wondered if the sentiment of holiday charity and kindness would last as the new year approaches.
Something I read yesterday popped into my head: “If you don’t give when you have little, you won’t when you have a lot. If you don’t practice attention and love when you’re busy, you won’t when you’re idle. If you don’t wave hello first and often, don’t be surprised if the world seems hostile. And if you haven’t lived long enough to know that on a long enough timeline you could be everyone you see around you, give it time.”
The words sound like a New Year’s invocation. And they feel true.
“The Last of Us,” episode 3 was one of the best episodes of TV I’ve watched. It compares to season 1 of “True Detective.”
Although the episode arc is more akin to a standalone episode, the humanity it contains astonished me. Nick Offerman stole the show.
I’m unfamiliar with the video game. This show is one of those rare gems that defies the genre. Both for video games and post-apocalyptic stories Episode 3 was the stellar episode of the first season.
The final dinner scene revealed a stunning grasp of love amidst pain.
This is personal. As is everything I write and post. I don’t duck behind sharing other people’s memes or messages. As imperfectly as I express myself, I’d rather be misunderstood for making the attempt.
I’m not pointing the finger as an accusation. I’m pointing it because if you don’t make the effort to connect with people who disagree, you’ve already failed. So many of us have friendships and family members who are going to have a difficult time for the foreseeable future.
The law of entropy affects everything, including human systems of governance. No matter how much work you put in, things can dissolve and dissipate without warning. Apart from that, we’re standing on lava and spinning through the universe at an incalculable speed.
One thing that people don’t like to acknowledge is the logical inference that results from their claim that God or their deity endorses or blesses their candidate.
If God is for your candidate, it follows that he is not for the opponent… that the preponderance of their beliefs and behaviors are endorsed by or align with the creator you worship.
I am 100% a believer in non-interventionism. Whatever shape or form a deity takes in your mind, I’m certain based on the evidence that we were set in motion to solve our own problems with the resources and intelligence that we have.
Many things that we take for granted were once angrily and violently endorsed by God. At least according to some proponents of each mistaken beliefs. Whether it’s the pronouncement that owning other human beings was acceptable or whether half the population, depending on gender or race, were less than equal and therefore ineligible to vote or own property.
To have been wrong about such fundamental beliefs and rights should be the clearest possible indication that people are quite often wrong. Insisting that their creator endorses something has a huge track history of error.
No two denominations or people believe alike. From there it degenerates into cherry-picking which parts matter, or to whom it applies.
As for the current state of things, my head hurts when I consider that people endorsed someone with such an obvious track record of objectionable behavior. Factoring in the allegation that their deity favored such a person goes against my identity as a member of a democracy. That much more qualified and human candidates should have been chosen goes without saying.
I can’t fathom how the message of hope and brotherly love translates into a candidate who in no way embodies the essential nature of the predominant religion in our country.
Those of you who mistakingly believe that we might not have voted for a conservative simply because he or she was a conservative are mistaken. We would have opted for George Bush (either father or son) over the presumptive president-elect. Part of that is because despite their flaws, they honored the pledge to democracy and rule of law. They certainly would have still done ill-advised things, but none of them would have undercut our democratic principles unilaterally in the way that the president-elect has and will again.
It’s a dangerous thing to equate God’s endorsement to a person or set of beliefs. History taught us that.
We have collectively decided to eff around and find out.
Such a collision of God and politics has never resulted in a balanced democracy.
The park crew was clearing brush and trees from the creekside end of Bluff Cemetery. We’ve been weeks without substantive rain.
Because the amount of dust reminded me of an empty field before and after the crops of my youth, I told him, “A little grit in the heat never hurt anyone.”
Because of the elevation of the cemetery and the exposed expanses of ground at the cemetery, the effect of the high wind carrying and eddying the dust and leaves was quite beautiful despite it covering me as I walked through it.
It was shortly after noon during my visit. The sky looked like a summer sky even though the browning trees frowned at me for such a thought.
I can’t visit a cemetery without viscerally feeling the irony of loving cemeteries for their history and emotional anchors, yet having always disliked the ritual of burial.
I have several family members at Bluff. Several contemporaries and people I’ve known also dot the landscape.
After meandering, I took a photo of a random grave. Someday soon, I’ll use the information to find out more about the person using my research skills. It may seem foolish to some for me to do this. But every time I do it, I learn something. I like to think that a random stranger’s attention might float up into the after and ether and hit a hidden chord of memory in the universe.
Before exiting the property, I pulled my car over and parked. I chose a tree along the periphery and did my best to climb it. My pocket was loaded with a length of wire and a beautiful prism. I left it hanging up there. In the days to come it will become more exposed as the tree gives way to November.
Ashes to ashes and dust to dust.
The prism is a reminder that sunlight is not only the source of all life here on Earth, but also provides the only way we can experience beauty with our eyes.
No matter what your views are of the afterlife, many forget that we are supposed to squeeze life while we’re here. Some of us produce lemon juice and others nectar.
We all breathe the same air and for different lengths of time.
PS I hope some of you got to enjoy the leaf tornadoes that seemed to be everywhere today.
The exuberant blush of the chilly October morning passed. My arms were heavy from relentless push-ups, ones executed to silence my imagination and mind. The fleeting and mercurial chance to venture out and sit among the mountains of scattered fallen leaves passed as the shadows of the morning disappeared. The chance to hold a hot cup of coffee and share the absurdity of humor as the crows called. I grew tired of my mind, wanting only presence. So I sat and watched the gentle breeze move the remaining green limbs of the trees. The accompanying sun attempted to pierce the gauzy Autumn clouds. It was a reverie that inevitably concluded when I put on my practical shoes. The magic of the morning that I love evaporated into the ether. But still my mind wandered in the cavern contained and concealed inside of me. It’s one of the consequences of living in boxes. Swooping high above, there are a million boxes and each one contains a universe of self-contained minds. Sonder strikes differently on fall mornings. It is the interconnectedness of us that makes it worthwhile. If it feels lacking, not much effectively works as a distraction.
And I’m floating.
.
PS I wrote the above words yesterday morning. I listened to Spencer Sutherland wail “Alive.” And though I shared these words, I’m frustrated that I’m experiencing the same disconnectedness this morning. The easy fix evidently stretches too far for some. It’s obvious I don’t lack the words or the ability to communicate. So, I blasted “Alive” again and reminded myself to be grateful for what I do have instead of that which lacks. I remind myself that it’s human nature to fail to appreciate the 80% to chase the 20%. The problem is that the magic tends claim residence in the 20%.
I made this point a couple of weeks ago. The number of conservatives complaining about high-profile celebrity endorsements of Harris has, of course, skyrocketed. If only their candidate had followed the advice they so eagerly give. I seem to remember him being a huge TV star. Not to mention that beloved Hollywood Walk of Fame star that he’s so proud of. If celebrities can’t endorse a candidate, then it certainly follows that celebrities can’t BECOME candidates. This is dissonance on the most unimaginable scale. I would call it satire, except the people spouting this crazyness do so in all seriousness.
I’ve scratched my head so much over this that I only have two hairs remaining on my cranium.
I need a list of all occupations that are prohibited from expressing their political views. See how ridiculous that sounds? A person’s choice of career in no way negates their opinion or the ability to express it. It’s our fault that celebrities have so much voice to begin with.
So when we accuse them of undue influence, we are undermining the ideals that are the underpinning of our democracy. Freedom of expression counts as highest among them.
I voted against him for the 6th time in my adult life. It’s amusing that his presence in the political arena pushed such a blatant liberal as me into the conservative primaries.
He’s not even the problem.
The problem is now that many of us realize that no matter how many gains we make, such a person ill-suited for political office can subvert the political process.
It’s not my job to convince anyone that he’s dangerous. If his closest allies and advisors, combined with his encyclopedic list of flaws can’t present the clear and present danger he is to our democracy, there’s certainly nothing I can add.
When I left the voting center, I’m certain I experienced one of the most beautiful views possible.
Above me, the blue sky.
Behind me? Hopefully the last populist narcissist.
But I know he can’t be. Because the people who will overlook the kind of character and behavior he represents will still be voting.
P.S. Parenthetically Speaking 