Tuesday

Somewhere sometime someone wrote, and I read, that the most pitiable thing one can do is to die with regrets, holding on to regrets, that it renders one's life a failure. 

But honestly, except for a total and complete narcissist, whose arrogant being itself personifies failure, and I have known one personally, I don't see how it's possible, seems most unlikely, not to harbor sadnesses about how one has done or roads not taken. For myself, I will be scattered upon the sea, and, if my wishes are followed by those I trust, secretly upon ground I hold most sacred, still sad about. 

As with you, my most privy are parked in a garage out in the back alley of my mind, the door slightly ajar so that now and then I can go back there and peek in. Those I am willing to out include having lived into a resurgence of the political and social far right or leftist - - at their fulfillment they become indistinguishable - - nationalism sweeping pathetic AntHills. Selfishness and intolerance, righteous entitlement, the authoritarianism it brings on. It would be time for the religious fringe to thumb through Revelation and point to the Sure Signs, except that they are already committed and busy with their own Certainties.

Of anamnesis, we don't remember, we forget Europe and the Orient of the first half of the twentieth century - - hatred, brutality, cruelty. Cheering, hailing crowds. God help us. But then God leaves these things to us, doesn't God who prefers a singing chorus to a military parade - or does God? Depends on one's God, or god, doesn't it.



Social and political conservatism means That you mind your business and I mind mine. That I don't get to force my convictions on you and you don't get to force yours on me. That I don't get to bend you to my will, nor do you get to bend me to yours. 

So, my regret: having lived into a divisiveness that is the exact opposite of That, of human decency.