need to email Matt. really, really need to email Matt. if only my brain were less jumbled. but I imagine it will be many days before that happens. 🙁
this all throws the ending
this all throws the ending of Aila’s story into sharp relief. at what point are we complicit in the sins of our culture? what is the appropriate stance for a small individual in a large society?
thinking of discussions like this. I don’t know how I feel about it, which I suppose is part of why I write…to understand while telling a story.
thank you, Barry.
worn, overwhelmed, tired. sort of
channel 28, simulcasting komo, was
channel 28, simulcasting komo, was playing amazing grace – I don’t know the context, exactly, since it only came into my consiousness gradually, as I was bouncing from window to window, reading and reading. when it fully hit me, I just stopped. this song has long had the power to tear me up – was played at dad’s funeral, when I was a little thing. today it let me cry, for the first time.
Amazing grace! How sweet the sound
That saved a wretch like me.
I once was lost, but now am found,
Was blind, but now I see.
‘Twas grace that taught my heart to fear,
And grace my fears relieved.
How precious did that grace appear
The hour I first believed.
Through many dangers, toils and snares
I have already come;
‘Tis grace hath brought me safe thus far
And grace will lead me home.
The Lord has promised good to me
His word my hope secures;
He will my shield and portion be,
As long as life endures.
Yea, when this flesh and heart shall fail,
and mortal life shall cease,
I shall possess within the veil,
A life of joy and peace.
When we’ve been there ten thousand years
Bright shining as the sun,
We’ve no less days to sing God’s praise
Than when we’ve first begun.
which, of course, was interrupted by a telemarketer. if I hadn’t been crying, I would’ve just lit into him; instead, I gave him the old UWPC telemarketers lecture (he was calling for a police charity) and told him to take my name off of the list.
it just doesn’t end. it goes on and on and on.
I’ve heard from a bunch
I’ve heard from a bunch of people in response to my email yesterday (see below). Barry, Bruce, Edith, Elizabeth, Aunt Susie, Stephanie, Paula, Greyson. I’m a little concerned that I haven’t heard anything from Matt (who I flaked out on this last weekend – Matt, if you’re out there, please forgive me for my screwiness!). everyone is alive and well, even Irina – heard 2nd hand from Steph. not that Irina would ever see this, but I’m so glad to know she is okay.
I didn’t think I had
I didn’t think I had it in me, but my only possible response to this was a poem:
a bright sunny day
(perhaps too bright)
above, a V of geese
turning, heedless,
but still beautiful
a continent’s distance
another sunlit day
dimmed by clouds
that will bring no rain
but tears
not the best thing I’ve ever written, but heartfelt.
found on Slate’s “The Fray”
September 1, 1939
WH Auden
From: Another Time (1940)
I sit in one of the dives
On Fifty-second Street
Uncertain and afraid
As the clever hopes expire
Of a low dishonest decade;
Waves of anger and fear
Circulate over the bright
And darkened lands of the earth,
Obsessing our private lives;
The unmentionable odour of death
Offends the September night
gotta go get some food,
I guess I should write
I guess I should write something about GWB’s statement (I still refuse to call him the president), but I can’t find any words. So I’ll steal Jacob Weisberg’s (link):
The only official I saw who failed to create some sense of reassurance was the president. All he knew how to do was read his statement and offer a prayer. My honest, churlish reaction: I wish Bill Clinton were still the president.
yeah, like that.