Not another song… Yes! I suspect that what I write is not a matter of choice at all. Is it chance, that implacable, impenetrable twisting of fate? I mean that branching of inchoate inclination to switch radio stations while on Fayban Parkway on the way to Starbucks. Whether chance or choice, I’ll never get…
The morning after the mid-terms. One has to expect something on the day after… What did I expect? Perhaps I thought that the deluge of propaganda, image-based demonizing of the opposition, “othering” of a member of the opposing party, caricaturing as anti-human one’s opponent would rule the day — the sun would fail to…
November 2nd, election day. But I voted early. Not that my voice will be heard. Is my voice hypothetically, durable enough to be heard, given the radical oppositional viewpoints, indeed the incipient violence roiling this land of “hopes and dreams?” Given what we Americans desire, the future we actively support, and the disparate languages…
Keeping Time by Mike Orlock I’ve lost time. Lost track of where I left it, (on a table at home, in a desk at work): I placed it somewhere for safekeeping, thinking, That five minutes will come in handy later today or early tomorrow— Just give me a minute, maybe two, I’ll get back…
In ourselves human existence is nothing but shouts, a cruel spasm, a giggling fit where agreement is born from a consciousness which is at last shared between the impenetrability of ourselves and that of others. — excerpt Literature and Evil, Genet, by Georges Bataille, p. 170 …all our yesterdays have lighted fools…
I am sure about one thing: humanity is not composed of isolated beings but of a communication between them. Never are we revealed, even to ourselves, other than in a network of communication with others. We bathe in communication, we are reduced to this incessant communication whose absence we feel, even in the depths…
We cannot assess the impact that our life will have upon others, others yet to be born. King Leonidas of the Spartans did not know, as he and his 300 men refused domination of the Persian God-king Xerxes, dying on the beach at Thermopylae, — the effect his life and story would have upon…
A strange phrase of only three words that leaves the mind grasping for nothing in particular. Of course it feels uncomfortable, I prefer the defined, something to take in hand. When there’s nothing — I am constrained to become quiet, to cease movement, that quest to outrun time, to make something of myself. What…
Evil, depends upon the possibility of breaking the rule. Infraction is frightening -like death: and yet it is attractive, as though the being only wanted to survive out of weakness, as though exuberance inspired that contempt for death which is necessary once the rule has been broken. The attraction of irregularity sustains the…
Nothing this morning. There is nothing in mind to say. Still the planet turns upon it’s axis. But wait, – I do have something to say… The results of the Brazilian election election are in, the Bolsonaro losers “take to the streets” since compromise, agreeing to settle for some point in the middle is alien…
