A day or so ago, I was seated as is my habit, here at Starbucks. Midwestern winters have returned, with single digit cold and some snow. Also who is not weary with the media onslaught, the hash of Trumpism? The spirit of the age is that of toxic patriarchy. My instincts are on-alert. The…
The new administration is moving at warp speed. Tech moguls skurrey, gathering as baby chicks around a brood hen, to Trump. The New York Times reports that new leaders are quickly being appointed to the U. S. Prosecutors offices. The President believes with justification that he has carte blanche to act at will. More…
THE SECOND COMING Turning, turning in the widening gyre The falcon cannot hear the falconerThings fall apart; the centre cannot hold; Turning and turning in the widening gyreMere anarchy is loosed upon the world,The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere The ceremony of innocence is drowned; The best lack all convictions, while the worst Are full…
“What do I matter?”is written over the doorof the thinker of the future. The Dawn of Day by Friedrich Nietzsche, trans. by J. M. Kennedy, aphorism 547 Of course each of us that lives believes – that “I” am here as an undercover Messiah. One way or another I (and you) desire to be…
Evil was visible, opaque, localized… We have exorcised it, liberated it, liquidated it. But has it, for all that, ceased to be Evil? Not at all: it has become fluid, liquid, interstitial, viral. That is the transparence of Evil. It is not a transparency in the sense that you might see through it. It…
The fundamental male fantasyof the womanis not her seductive appearance,but the idea,that the dazzling appearanceconcealssome imponderablemystery. -Jacques Lacan There is something tragic, simultaneously sad and delicious with respect to Lacan’s quote. How could this possibly be denied? The male – female dynamic-attraction is as old as Helen of Troy. Perhaps you remember Helen, according…
Nothing much this morning. I have nothing to say. This tune though, seems apt for the season. The days grow short, slowly, too slow for immediate notice. And then December 21st is the winter solstice, the shortest day. I think that I will make a fire in the fire pit at dusk, my act…
Saturday morning at a crowded Starbucks. What is to be done? Concentrate, focus upon the task at hand? I mean, the search for words, to wait until sensations, the reciprocal response of the body to a world sparks thought, a response… This space, the remodeled corner of 3rd and State in Geneva expresses the…
It is Friday. In my working years, every week had a frontier. The near border was Monday, the starting line where one accelerates to “get ahead.” What in the name of sanity did the intention of “getting ahead” mean? The relativity of everything was unnoticed, I was enthralled with what I had written, my…
It is late November, a winter chill has arrived. The “wintery mix,” a covering of fine ice crystals and rain is a reminder that the tilt of the earth’s axis away from the sun means winter is sure. That is the truth. What is meant by winter can be counted upon, preparation ought to…
