It’s true about the squeaky wheel. What a wonderful slide of silence that the laundry line makes.
A stone balances unless acted on by an outside force. Our outside forces are internalized and one never knows when they’ll reanimate.
Our country — and by that I mean more confederacy of many groups and millions of individuals, living at least some of their time in a region, governed by some overlapping laws — used to commemorate soldiers on November 1st and recite “lest we forget, never again” and speak of peace and the grief that visits generation after last, the devastation if things escalate too far.
Now we have a new narrative pushed forward, more war monuments, more reenactments. Instead of a memory tree for a life loved we have a story of two complicit with bolstering the idea of nation founded in war with symbolic water from each ocean and dirt from where a battle was. I don’t even want to point to the story.
6 months ago our Museum of Civilization with a mandate to educate on the history of the human story got it’s mandate narrowed to Canada as the Museum of History.
The Museum of War and Destruction in its new location features “adventure games” for kids. Those are not about discovering Quaker principles, I’m speculating.
Some naively believe we have, roughly speaking a free press, and are distinct from North Korea. We have an affluent western life, but so did Iran before religious police took hold. What information are we missing? As I write I dislike contained narratives but want to break the 4th wall, see what outside the frame complicates the picture. There are always many parallel world going on.
We are tethered to world economy and should it dive, there are predictable results, a them and us mentality increasing, finding ways to create Others, hardening new imaginary boundaries and history for gender and sexuality, a closing against intellectual and art and disability, a dehumanizing categorically. It does not take long for a zeitgeist of paranoia to sweep people. Media is short-sighted to play at giving attention to stories of our military legacy. In under a decade a story of the times is all a child knows unless people are actively teaching to counter.
It reminds me of being in the countryside near the border of Quebec. At the campfire someone from the circle went to throw in a plastic bottle. His hand was stopped. One shouldn’t burn plastics. The thrower said it is one bottle and does’t make a difference. The person who stopped him said everything makes a difference. Then mused that being here seeing all these stars in such pure air, it’s hard to believe there could be pollution anywhere.
Down in the beach this week some youths were throwing water balloons. As they played a woman with a stoop and a cane came with her wicker bag, opened it, took out a stool, stepped out of her brown skirt and green shirt and folded them carefully and put them in her bag which she hung from a tree. In her shorts and tshirt she sat with her cane leaned beside her. The kids continued to play and one running backward nearly tripped on her and the water balloon splashed the older woman. The girl apologized and the old woman smiled and waved it off. After all the balloons splashed, the young woman came back and combed the beach, ordering her friends to do the same. We have to find all the pieces or the birds will eat them! And her friends diligently went and picked up balloon parts as well.
As I sit her a wasp flies by and then hovers. I go to look and it is partly caught in a spider’s web. Spiders need to eat too but I release the wasp. It’s hard to believe that there is anyone who does not want peace but some people are shit rakers and will do anything to avoid boredom or to get excitement, believe all acts are governed by fate and free choice is an illusion.
There are forces bigger than us and the system binds as well as has leeway of choice. What will predicate what? We work partly blind.
What will animate and what stays innocuous and resolves itself like fog’s blindness?
I realize how rarely I see 5-6 a.m. Only on nights when my body skips sleep entirely do I see those hours, and by then it’s usually occupied and writing, unconscious of the world outside.