October 2010: Oh yes, my pulsating enthusiasm is aimed directly at the world
Yes, but My New Favorite Person disagrees.
——I just like using 18th century Capitalization for Emphasis. Its the difference between virtue and Virtue. Everything was proper then, especially nouns.
Great People are great to bask in, warmed by their radiation.
——Some are better, brighter in shadow than we most are in true light./Giants, these, My Favorite Persons.
——”He is one of the best people God ever made.”
All partisans of course at their hearts are traitors. When out of power, they wish for nothing more than near ruin to befall their own nation that they might then be able to make promises of a solution. Every disappointment gives them hope, every failure is a success. Perhaps only in divided governments can all be patriotic, each hoping to have something for which to claim credit, no matter their involvement.
- We are not the people we read of, but their success fills us with confidence. ‘It can be done,’ and so is something more real than merely possible.
- We, tho never achieving anything worth recorded, perhaps achieve more than we would otherwise, bravery by osmosis, telecommands across time.
- ——I can’t imagine what it must be like to lose an election when you’ve actually got a chance to win, or think you do. One woman, who’d both won & lost called it, ‘standing naked in the middle of the street.’ This, a county position. How embarrassing.
- ——Losing an election is like spending three months making sure everyone knows your name and what you look like, then dropping to knee to propose to a woman just have her reveal not only does she not want you, she wants this other guy. She reveals this by placing his dick in her mouth And immediately following this discovery, people with cameras and notepads are next to you, asking how you feel. And you say, ‘I’m disappointed.’
- I can’t stand the Old South, from Slave Power to Confederacy. It is repugnant; it is utterly without qualities redeeming or graces saving.
- It was the equivalent of a petroleum-rich state today. A poor, backwards, dirty, awful place except for the plantation owners who received all of the cotton wealth and a handful of real cities.
- It wasn’t free. How could it be when three million people were considered animals inherently and for perpetuity? Even for whites, white men, to say slavery was wrong could get one attacked or murdered. In the South, all talk of course was quashed. This is why we have Southern Baptists, after all. But even in the North, to say slavery is wrong, slaveowners are immoral, might get a bounty put out on you.
- The North celebrated John Brown’s foolishness at Harper’s Ferry, but three years before, the South cheered the near-fatal caning of Senator Charles Summer by Congressman Preston Brooks. Because Sumner insulted Brooks’ cousin and his support of slavery.
- Slave Power manufactured a war to gain Mexican territory, made a series of deals to ensure they would have more slave states and representative power, then got a Supreme Court ruling (Dredd Scott) that said they could take slaves anywhere. Slavery had to be legal everywhere, Northerners had to be coerced into catching escaped slaves, and any statement questioning the morality of slavery endangered one’s life. If anything, it was the right of Northern states being threatened.
- And for what reason did the South secede? Because the North had won an election on its own. Because the South, which had a vastly less numerous population, whose electoral power was bolstered by three out of every five slaves, was in the political minority and could no longer get its way. For this, the petulant children of South Carolina and elsewhere did quit the game and try take the board home with them. Taxation with representation was not enough. They didn’t want any opposition represented at all. And people today have the gall to say the South fought in defense of freedom.
- “States’ rights.” Please.
- The North was awful in its own way, hardly less bigoted, and turned to wiping out the Plains Indians as soon as it finished off the South. But they didn’t found a nation on the cornerstone of depriving an entire group of people of their basic rights.
- The Confederacy is equivalent to Nazi Germany; having already fought one war, two if you count Texas, of aggressive expansion, another was sure to follow. Jews in Nazi territory were hardly better off in their ghettoes than slaves in Georgia or Louisiana, and once combine harvester came along, and a white man in a machine could do the labor of dozens of slaves, does anyone doubt how leaders in the South would have solved The Negro Question?
- But at least the Germans have had the courage to admit the truth of history to themselves. The South’s idea of a War of Northern Aggression with values of equal worth is hardly less laughable than Imperial Japan’s Co-Prosperity Sphere.
- The only shame of the Civil War, really, is that we didn’t have nukes to drop on Charleston and Richmond, and that we let the South win the peace, and write history.
- ——I’m begun to think the direct primary election is good practice for winning the presidency and a bad method for selecting presidents.
- ——What they’re good at is campaigning, so they do it all the time. When really governing is pulling different groups together with promises, knowing when it’s right to buy and when to wait, and all the backroom deals done when the cameras are gone and journalists too drunk to pick up their pads. That’s politics.
- ——But I also am not fond of the direct election of senators. I want them pandering to their state’s interests to keep their position, not taking money for campaigns or appealing to the lowest common voter.
She is my Best & Closest advisor while my thoughts are 400 miles away.
- Although I rather enjoy our Serious Conversations (over waffles) I wish I could remember them in the morning.
- The important thing is it feels Productive, and occasionally is free.
- ——She: *in the afternoon
- In the whenever-I-gain-consciousness-no-longer-inhibited-or-bolstered-by-External-Chemicals.
Oh the sun shines, but has no warmth. What a cool breeze it is, filling my nostrils, strangling my breath with boreal sighs.
Shorter and shorter, cold, dead & brown.
(I miss the triple digits and warm midnight zephyrs.)
——She: You do love your sunshine.
(Yes, but the crisp air is so wonderful, like the mountains.)
He: After a careful 10 minutes of deliberation, I think you are filled with life more than any person I know.
Yes, but please– I mean, don’t you?
OH YES, MY PULSATING ENTHUSIASM IS AIMED DIRECTLY AT THE WORLD
- Now the descent into revelry, as is proper.
- ——I drink up my youth behaving such. I know where this path leads, five years hence. Twenty pounds, sagginess, red-eyed, obnoxious expired behavior. I drink up what staves this off.
- ——But it drips away on its own, and will before long drip all gone. Or the bottom of the tub shall drop entirely out at once.
- ——Youth tastes good, and I am a glutton for it.
- ——(It’s good to be young, better to grow up then old.)
It’s just a bit too melancholy, on retrospect.
He: I wish you still wrote short contemplative pieces. Let somebody else handle the every-day tragedies.
——I wish I still wrote and didn’t scribble or type.
——I hate meeting women I can see were pretty or cute not too long ago. You see how the carefree living that was once so appealing has corrupted them and their skin and their figures.
——They spoil fast out here in the desert.
——Like mayonnaise in the sun.
When your Brain swells, you increase with it. Not as much as you think, but enough to grow.
Always is there a wanting more.
Yes, but only because you asked so sweetly.
You wide-faced drop-eyed fool ordering your recalcitrant (mutinous) muscles this and that way.
The four skins peel off into five and three dry up in shriveled self-doubt but two remain to grow large.
——You’re only married for the first time once.
——(Although I actually think the wedding I went to will be mostly happier ever after)
Something about a fly in a bottle of perfume, and deer on the side of the road on a beautiful day.
——’You smell like Sex & Death.’
——Freud just came in his grave, and reproduced the same scent.
Oh yes, the walls are spinning, but the floor, is it melting? No. I thought it was flat but it’s undulating, just like all space (and time).
How utterly non-euclidian!
Slipping downward, darkly, one realizes karma is a conceit that justice exists and is based on our decisions.
- Religion explained the world people experienced in a logical, if conceited, way. We imagined of course that we continue to live after our deaths. Probably this has always been the case. We want very badly this be true. Just as we want our friends and family to remain existing somehow. And as years pass and reputations grow, perhaps medicine men or leaders claiming superstitious power grew from shades into persons capable of retaining power into death and these grew into gods. Or perhaps we anthropomorphized the elements from the start. Who knows? But it explained things to us in a way that made sense to us and when societies became larger, gave us an identity tying us to the strangers we interacted with. No longer family or clan, but not The Enemy. They were We Who Worship Enki. (Why not?)
- So, religion facilitated collective action, and tribal Not Us massacring continued with new justification. Eventually there came along priests and poets who needed something more, and 12,000 years later, here we are, no longer a childish species, and probably ready to put aside at least some childish things.
- Now, We perceive order because our brains adapted to what we deal with in everyday life. We who can fall from trees and feel pain understand the laws of Newton. Where the universe is outside our normal experience, such as the very large or very small, nothing at all makes sense or seems to have order. This is why quantum science and relativity are so bizarre. The universe was not made with us in mind; it exists and we briefly in it.
- It appears to love us only because we’re adapted to it, for this brief moment in time. Really, our environment is terrifying and awful for we soon will be dead and our earth eventually not even ash, unremembered, unmourned, never noted–not even ‘mostly harmless.’ This is not sad. It simply is.
- There is nothing beyond the natural, but that is more than enough. We may be alone, as intelligence or life, even. But the universe is large and full, even so.
- Time is too short to kill one another over wishful thinking.
- We require Evidence for Things.
‘Look outward and mostly forward instead of so much inward.’ This is Good Advice.
The bottom has fell out the tub.
Haw, miles & distance & human hearts do separate like great barriers or somesuch.
- I am full of sighs & Guilt.
- I’m sick of life. But I can’t get enough of it.
- Much there is to be said of math & Philosophy. Great is good conversation.
I CRY BECAUSE I’M A GENETIC CUL-DE-SAC
(LIKE THE STEER)
——She: But odds are good you won’t end up vittles.
Unfortunately, one might add.
——She: Well, I’m sure it could be arranged if you really made it a goal. There have to be some good ole fashioned people-eating peoples still out there.
How wonderful desire always. Lawd Lawd Lawd.
Tho they spoil at 15, we muust love them.
- I love flesh, that veil of something wonderful hiding all things Smelly & Grotesque.
- ——So my love runs skin-deep.
- ——But if I could climb in someone’s ear like a Yeerk and squeeze around the folds of the brain, I’d love to know everything about them, get beyond the Thing to the Thing Itself.
- ——(What a hungry little fellow.)
- She: omg animorphs.
- ——I can’t post comments where you’ve found them.
She was cute. I don’t care what anyone says. Ears and all, cute not pretty.
My head is buzzing, but dulled, not with ideas.
We must exceed while young to understand what’s enough when we’re mature.
Even something stupid well-said is well-said.
——She: though it still may be, you know, stupid.
Let’s go. Who cares where so long as it accompanies movemovemovement?
- I work because it feels good. I help others, when I do, because it feels good. I drink because it feels good. Hedonism is wonderful.
Huh guh hug huh
- Yes, yes, it’s poetry.
- Yes, my boy, but can you SIFT thru the it? Yes, yes, yes, can you sort past unnecessary to the inherent?
But for summer, few things I’d not give. So I trade six months.
Somehow, I still <sic>
In any case, I’m very fond of her.
- And yet, circumstances conspire ag’in me.
It hurts my heart how wrong it is.
I’ll probably never do any better than this. Which is good enough, or has to be.
- ‘In the end,’ as tho that means something.
- Historians examine a zygote then write biographies.