The esprit d’corps of the Marines says rather than flee, their response is to run toward “gunfire.” I don’t hold with martial - anything, and share this because we as a species are in a fight like no other we have ever witnessed · so much so: we hear no cannon fire; we see no bombs bursting in air, and yet more people have died on our planet in the last 3 months than have died in all the wars for the past ________ years. We are experiencing “battle fatigue” and all we have to defend ourselves is a mask and clean hands. I am fortunate to be of an age where “The Twilight Zone” has more contextual meaning than a line item on the googol feed. There have been times in my existence where when possible i literally devised my weekend around a Twilight Zone Marathon, and was happy for it; if only because today in a world awash with a pathogen of lethal dimension i find myself at an age nearing death in one of a handful of nations on the planet who has managed to stymie the virulent reproduction of that pathogen - tell me that’s not weird ·
It doesn’t mean anything really more than my lifespan is now predicated more on my personal habits (which doesn’t bode well for the home team) than my zipcode. Where i grew up is aflame in death because of an irrational and arrogant response to the same threat i now face with all the world, even closer to the pathogen’s origin, yet paradoxically safer in a zero-case zone, biding my time for the death tormenting so many others on the planet. What am i to do with that “found” time¿ it is not the first time in my life that serendipity has rewarded my personal misfortune with questionable favor. Shenanigans from my youth blew out an eardrum that was rendered a monetary value due to “white privilege” that was within a few years lost to greed from my own lumpin proletariate ignorance. Whether that lost monetary value translated into any worldly use - who knows · who cares ?
At 65 years old, i believe, maybe for the first time in my life, deep inside that someone does care - it is me · i care about me. Laugh if you must, it strikes me kind of dumb as well. My core is more at peace accepting that there may be no one else but myself to look down upon me as i die, while relinquishing any fantasy of being loved by others to the end is important. I no longer wake daily wondering which account i may have neglected that might render me - alone at the “end” · The weird result of that introspection is i am more liberated to search for ways to relieve others of discomfort they might face; however knowing their suffering will not be relived by any action i might take, only by the actions that they themselves take - if i can help good · if i cannot help good.
The world will not be rescued by any virtue i have been able to articulate here in these chronicles - nor is she condemned by any lapse in rectitude i might enjoy · horn dog that i am, and hopefully for the sake of the species, remain. My responsibility as near as i can tell is to cause no harm - and that, my friends is a conundrum to beat all · given the prissy sensitivity our species has been trained to respond to: “if your toilet paper is not soft enough, buy everyone else’s until you find one that makes your butthole feel clean; if she does not want to kiss you, keep changing your toothpaste until she does; if he doesn’t recognize your beauty, make him suffer until he does.” and the beat goes on & on while your wallet grows lighter and and lighter and your happiness falls further and further away.
I do not know what the answer is to all the misery i describe herein - i do know for myself the more simple i make my life · the happier i am. I no longer share my thinking seeking allies; more like i try to imagine what my friends look like in my heart so that when i finally see them with my eyes coming toward me, i will not be distracted by their disheveled, broken and faithless appearances - but rather will be guided by the gentle kindness toward those around them and their glee at still being alive. If we are not living on behalf of the generation 6 times away from the one we are enduring - we are already dead and deserve no more from the universe than whatever quiet death we have asked for, if that is what we have beseeched.
I believe my father died because he had convinced himself he was no longer useful - but he was valiant to the end · Poetry had been the “identity” he had given himself where his life experience did not enrich his sould; so he taught poetry to the end of his days, or at least until convinced his poetry no longer mattered. Maybe it is the same for me - he and i warred all through my adolescent years · he the high school English teacher, me: no one’s student. He managed to hammer into my mind the good use of a “5 paragraph essay” - the thesis in paragraph One describing what you believe followed by Three examples you will use to demonstrate your logic; with a conclusion in paragraph Five describing how you had used your Three examples to establish the validity of your thesis. How anyone ever managed to convince my father that he was no longer useful is unimportant; what is important is that i do my level best to find enough Five Paragraph essays to discover, uncover and expand useful work that can be accomplished by every woman, man and child on the planet which may result in the survival of our species - 6 generations hence · are we having fun yet¿
jts 28/06/2020
http://stoanartst.blogspot.com
reprinted with permission - all rights reserved
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