Life On The Island
They are trying again, trying to avoid a partial government shutdown by Friday and trying to prevent 700,000 non-citizen Americans, resident here since infancy, from being exiled to some strange country where they neither speak the language nor have means for survival. They are trying to refund the Children’s Health Insurance Program. The well being of 9 million children is in the balance. Of course “they” often make grandiose public proclamations. Later it appears that they meant the opposite by what they actually do. After the deal making by House members and Senators (who in fact live in markedly different worlds from each other), is finished, —then it will be submitted to the mercurial, intemperate individual who currently occupies the White House. This is the second time around. The first compromise attempt was stopped cold by the presidents profane eruption.
I depend upon friends, respected fellow travelers for reading recommendations. Here is an excerpt from The Wind-up Bird Chronicle by Haruki Murakami, well recommended by a friend.
Do you know the story of the monkeys of the shitty island?, I asked……..
Somewhere, far, far away there’s a shitty island. An island without a name. An island not worth giving a name. A shitty island with a shitty shape. On this shitty island grow palm trees that also have shitty shapes. And the palm trees produce coconuts that give off a shitty smell. Shitty monkeys live in the trees, and they love to eat these shitty smelling coconuts, after which they shit the world’s foulest shit. The shit falls on the ground and builds up shitty mounds, making the shitty palm trees that grow on them even shittier. It’s an endless cycle.
Nothing more need be said.
