Among the worst mistakes a prisoner could make was to watch (to notice) another prisoner’s mistreatment. There the SS seemed totally irrational, but only seemed so. For example, if a SS man was killing off a prisoner and other prisoners dared to look at what was going on in front of their eyes he…
On a state designated by a shorthand name, (impalement), I am writing these few lines in the form of a theme for meditation: I imagine: an object of attraction. The flame Shining and light Consuming itself in itself Annihilating itself And in this way revealing emptiness, The identity of the attraction, Of that which…
The Philosophy Bunch discussed the topic of euthanasia. Death is not an event which merely happens to each of us as individuals. Dying is a process measured by time, and there are infinite ways to die. It is exceeding rare for anyone to die without the involvement of others. (Death must be the definitive…
Thanksgiving day. A day of sacrifice and feasting. The customary “victim” is the turkey. The day is dedicated to a nationwide communal meal, families including invited guests, extended family members are together around a table for a meal of prepared turkey, side dishes which have passed the test of tradition. The elements are common,…
Human life, by its very nature, has to be dedicated to something, an enterprise glorious or humble, a destiny illustrious or trivial. …in these years we are witnessing the gigantic spectacle of innumerable human lives wandering about lost in their own labyrinths… All imperatives, all commands, are in a state of suspension. Given over…
A few minutes until 7AM, and the streets of Geneva were silent, traffic on State Street was scarce. A rare sensation of quiescence on a Sunday morning in this river town. It will not last. I begin to write, the raucous sound of the bean grinding machine, the animated conversation of baristas behind the…
Death is coming and leaving the tavern, death leaving and coming in. by Frederico Garcia Lorca Many years ago I wrote this poem into one of my little notebooks. There are nine of these small notebooks, small enough to fit inside of a rear pocket of my blue jeans. I liked the poem by…
Today I read more about the war in Ukraine in the New York Times. The war grinds on. The article was about the role of therapists to offer treatment for the psychological damage exacted by the extreme violence of artillery strikes and missiles destroying towns. I thought about commenting about a poem today, as…
That Madman Have you not heard of that madman who lit a lantern in the bright morning hours, ran to the market-place, and cried incessantly: “I am looking for God! I am looking for God!” As many of those who did not believe in God were standing together there, he excited considerable laughter. Have…
Brain fog… At least that was my condition upon waking this morning. It is gray, windy, a day chilled with winter’s retreat. The disorientation, as if my senses were obstructed by a old exhausted filter, continued until I arrived at Starbucks. Now I am into my second cup of coffee. I watched the 1970…
