Thursday, September 24, 2020

thoughts du jour

1. The television works better when you turn it off.

2. Shoot Donald Trump. A clear and present danger to the country deserves no less.

Thursday, September 17, 2020

bless Plato's shadows

 

I would beg if I could, but I haven't got the training -- begging is above my paygrade, somehow.

 But anyway: I would beg ... honest to God, I would.

Please, please, please consider:

The bright light in Plato's cave is alluring. It beckons and soothes and elevates and ... Lord, what a bright light twinkles up ahead! You may think I'm kidding. I'm not. PLEASE! Everybody wants to be enlightened. No one begs to be un-enlightened. No one prays for shadows. This is a major mistake that is utterly correct.

Shadows and light are co-equal ... and not... the same and different. Honor one, honor the other, and still there is no other.

Raise up the shadows.

Raise up the light.

Stop raising shit up.

Stop not raising shit up.

Mesh and meld with the shadows. Mesh and meld with the light. 

And now ... stop meshing and melding. 

Lord, bless the shadows.

Lord, bless the light.

Stop it! I'm begging you ... but as I say, it's above my paygrade and as a result, as ever in the past, you are stuck with the farm.

Raise up the shadows!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


photo fun

 Photo fun



Monday, September 14, 2020

a man of thin water

Donald J. Trump, a man of thin water and coincidentally the president of the United States is working his way towards an exit door -- exit into a new term/exit into leaving office. To date, he has dug himself such a deep hole of self-aggrandisment and lies, it is hard to imagine what his capping phrase might be ... what exit line would put a period (https://youtu.be/TI8RZhhoBM0) on his sentence from his point of view.

Oh well, as I type, two rip-roaring storms are clawing at the underbelly of the Caribbean and headed for New Orleans and environs; fires are ravaging (not, for once, too strong a word) the west coast; and the flu epidemic that has killed 190+k Americans shows no sign of abating on the faces of newscasters whose desperation to have something to say is written all over their repetitive faces.

I loll and do what I can to bypass medical appointments: As when I was a lazy teenager facing a sink full of dirty dishes, "Why wash 'em -- they'll just get dirty again?" Yes, and there will always be another doctor ... why go?

Sit-down meals, if I judge from the bling advertising on TV, are fast becoming a thing of the past. They are being supplanted by ready-cooked-just-microwave them.

Friday, August 28, 2020

parlous times

The dolloping, blopping humidity was in reverse gear this morning -- air light and thin and delightful. Now, by afternoon, the humidity returns.

Last night, Donald Trump took on the mantle of the Republican candidate for rebranding as president of the United States, breaking a Hatch Act law that says politics shall not be played out on public (White House) spaces. Fire works went off. Political commentators looked exhausted tying to keep up with Trump's prevarications and immoralities.

In the South, Hurricane Laura lashed the coasts and inland waterways of Louisiana with wind gusts up to 175 mph last night and today while in the West, forest fires raged and crackled. All of this snuggled down in a backdrop of Corona-19 epidemic that has claimed 180K+- American lives.

In my town, a place of pinch-pottery and other bling, shops and stores dribble into oblivion. Those with expensive rental space on Main Street ... well ... my sympathies are muted. The nearby University of Massachusetts at Amherst announces furloughs. Colleges everywhere are losing traction (read, "money"). 

On the sports front, at least once professional basketball team -- the Milwaukee Bucks (whose faces are largely brown and black) -- declined to take part in a playoff game in the wake of an as-yet-not-detailed shooting of a black man in Kenosha, Wisc. ... seven police-officer shots in the back at point-blank range while the black man's (Jacob Blake) three children sat in a car into which he was leaning. There has been violence as anyone might imagine ... seven (or more) shots in the back upcloseandpersonal and JEEEEE-SUS!

When I awoke this morning, I thought, now that Trump is finally a candidate and currently shows waning strength, it is time to know where the guns are. Even among cowardly Republicans, it is a little early for Trump's Mossolini fascism, but I hoped my younger son knew where his pistols were. (Turns out he has a small-bore shotgun as well.) The last time the well-to-do fended off the great unawashed -- and those with the tax breaks circled the wagons -- the cops and the military had most of the weapons. (Picture comes from England, but the substance is pretty much the same.)

Law and order, but whose law and whose order?