Carroll
Last
evening
With
the blessing of decent health, this is the cap of life. Venus, Orion
and Sirius in a black sky. And is this final Saturday in September at
last that morning I waited for all summer, that long awaited dawn
when it's a bit too cool to stay outside on the porch without an
extra shirt? Not quite: a comfortable 64F but 95% humidity. Not quite
yet. Soon, very soon.
Blather
personified as TheD shifts his aim from Jeb! to Gator. Substance? Is
there anything to TheD but ego and arrogance? How much do you weigh, TheD? Why do you want to know? So that if you ever fall into a vat of xxx we will know how much to dip out. Henry II, where are you
when we need you?
Angry
fingerpointing as Mecca deaths go over 700. Something about us is
compelled to find someone to blame, someone, anyone, anyone else.
Easier if there's already someone we hate. Who went to the cowboy
movie at a Saturday morning kiddie matinee at the Ritz Theatre and watched a cattle
stampede saw that when panic ignites, animals go instantly out of control.
Cattle range, hajj, soccerfans, or fleeing a battlefield, when we
panic, we regress to animals.
Unending
and endless wave after wave of migrant tsunami as anti-immigrant demonstrations erupt in
Finland. In South Carolina, “The possibility
of a wave of refugees … critics worry they will burden services and
alter the character of communities” (NYT). In a civilized world,
crisis and human need must be fed, clothed, housed; but “burden the services
and alter the character of communities” hardly begins to touch
the magnitude of the arising and looming sociopolitical catastrophe.
To wit like it or not: free immigration in the British Empire.
Fool
me once, shame on you. Volkswagen hopes the world of fools will soon
trust VW again. Fool me twice, shame on me.
Having
brought shame and disgrace on FIFA, Sepp Blatter target of criminal
investigation. Is Sepp simply dementia incompetent or just one more greedy
power-lusting corporate crook.
As
John Boehner sits behind the pope, tearfully watching, listening and
hearing, his childhood upbringing surfaces victorious. For the first
time in memory, self-reflection on the Christian message has shamed a
politician into resigning and going home. If only every sermon could be so moving. If only there were more
former Altar boys in Congress. We can thank John for his service, but those who want to come after him overzealously believe that this is war
not politics. The proper art of war is unconditional surrender. The reality art of
politics is compromise.
Dawn
today
At
this age and stage, one of my favorite poems is Lewis Carroll's
"You
are old, Father William," the young man said,
"And
your hair has become very white;
And
yet you incessantly stand on your head—
Do
you think, at your age, it is right?"
"In
my youth," Father William replied to his son,
"I
feared it might injure the brain;
But
now that I'm perfectly sure I have none,
Why,
I do it again and again."
and
so forth. Carroll's poem is parody, a somewhat sarcastic take-off on
Robert Southey's pious original:
"You
are old, father William," the young man cried,
"The
few locks which are left you are grey;
You
are hale, father William, a hearty old man;
Now
tell me the reason, I pray."
"In
the days of my youth," father William replied,
"I
remember'd that youth would fly fast,
And
abus'd not my health and my vigour at first,
That I
never might need them at last."
"You
are old, father William," the young man cried,
"And
pleasures with youth pass away.
And
yet you lament not the days that are gone;
Now
tell me the reason, I pray."
"In
the days of my youth," father William replied,
"I
remember'd that youth could not last;
I
thought of the future, whatever I did,
That I
never might grieve for the past."
"You
are old, father William," the young man cried,
"And
life must be hast'ning away;
You
are cheerful and love to converse upon death;
Now
tell me the reason, I pray."
"I
am cheerful, young man," father William replied,
"Let
the cause thy attention engage;
In the
days of my youth I remember'd my God!
And He
hath not forgotten my age."
Unsure
whether I see myself more vividly in Southey or Carroll.
Sign
of peace this dawning?
If not peace, hope?
Thos+
in +Time+