“I do not fear death. I had been dead for billions and billions of years before I was born, and had not suffered the slightest inconvenience from it.” ~ Mark Twain
“You can’t depend on your eyes when your imagination is out of focus.” ~ Mark Twain, A Connecticut Yankee In King Arthur’s Court
Winter stars. They were brilliant earlier, but the humidity is 98% and a haze has dampened the gentle light of the stars. Moonlight has shown up, cutting shadows with sharp edges in the yard. A single meteor flashed, so fast that the tail, of some 5º of arc, shown all at once; a flash of a straight line of light. Lovely, and breathtaking. Temps just below freezing. A pretty good morning so far. In this new world it is hard to know. The election of Trump opened up the gates of hell. Just you watch. This guy is a loose wheel. The slightly crazed dreamer in me sees him as a vehicle for some truly daft demon. No, really. Calling him a dark spirit would not be totally inaccurate. Hey, have you ever seen a coyote dance? I have. I have a friend who has witnessed this as well, and she said that the animal had its sights on her dog as it danced. Foxes do it to. The motivation behind the dance is to look so crazy that the intended prey lets its guard dow, then loses the game. Just sayin. But my eyes are tired, stunned. I noticed that this morning, early, as I perused the news. My eyes are stunned. I repeat that to make my point. At 62, now retired, though working still, I feel lightly offended that things of great interest are happening in our country. I just wanted to get some rest, to look at all of the beautiful things I can find, but I see business being hoisted up to the highest importance of what homo sapiens can be and do. And that simply ain’t the truth. The good health and prosperity of the population is what counts. You don’t get that by denying affordable health care and education. It’s a no-brainer. Business needs people who are at least competent. If they are well-educated and in somewhat optimum health . . . well . . . more the better, right? Nah, not even. Ya jest squeezes them babies and skim their financial keepings, then remind them repeatedly that you not only want to help you are helping by keeping the moochers at bay. The trouble with this approach is that to quash the moochers ya hafta quash everybody. Because if you are not rich you don’t deserve to have more money, or even a working wage, a living wage. So, good buddy, I’ll just take your money and hold it until you evolve . . . no wait, evolution is bunk, right? Science sucks, right? Now, moving forward, I had no idea I was going to rant there. My bad. It shows how worked up I can get. But today is another workday and fun it will be. I have simples plans for Thanksgiving Day. I will stay home, in solitude (except for Rosie the cat), and watch a couple of movies, and drink a couple of beers. And eat some good food, and be thankful that I got to retire just under the wire. I am thankful for way more than that. My meeting in passing with that bighorn ram in the wild the other day is exemplary; it is the beauty of the natural world, the mystery of existing at all, and the sweet companion we call consciousness. That kind of stuff. No neckties. Please. Not that. The ram and I just nodded at each other and went about our business. I did take the opportunity to say out loud, “Hi buddy!”. He smiled only slightly, as if to indicate that my little sculpted primate mouth noises were maybe not so impressive as I might think. I will leave you with that to ponder. The wild sheep was not impressed with the language, but he likely did get the vibe of loving intent that I shared with him. Yeh, he was like all whatever about my words, but the intent is where it is at. I think I grokked that. He was just telling me something, then we nodded and walked on. I found wisdom in the wilderness. Wild sheep rock!
Peace out, y’all. Goof gloriously.