Meditation on a Sunday in February

  Sunday, February 21, 2016 11:45 AM

Reading headlines. What would make a person go out one Saturday and shoot people? Drive around a while, shoot some more? In my saddest, craziest moments, that never occurred to me.

 Of course, I don't have a gun. A policy decision as well as being too lazy and cheap to buy one. Plus I don't even know how to go about buying a gun. Maybe a rifle, or a shotgun, at Walmart, I don't know, but I think I'd feel like a criminal just looking at one. Hell, I feel suspect just thinking about it.

In Michigan yesterday a man shot random people in various locations, killing at least six of them. Near Kalamazoo. As if lead in their water weren't enough.

Trump won the South Carolina primary big and Clinton beat Sanders in the Nevada caucuses. 43% to 33% give or take.

I'm thinking it is really time to leave this country. But, hell, I felt that way when Reagan was elected, and when Nixon was reelected. 

The difference is, partly, that this shit is scary.

What is happening in our world, and in this country, scares me.

“Turning and turning in the widening gyre. The falcon cannot hear the falconer; Things fall apart; the center cannot hold; Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world.” comes to mind. But Yeats wrote that in 1919, so I am obviously not the first to feel the hopelessness of the present moment. But why did Yeats write it then?

I looked it up. In 1919 many interesting things happened.

Edsel Ford became head of Ford Motor Company. And Teddy Roosevelt died in his sleep

The 18th Amendment, Prohibition, went into effect. For the record, that was passed, by a Republican Congress, over Wilson's veto. Shortly thereafter, Wilson had a stroke and rumor had it that to all intents and purposes Edith Galt Wilson finished his term.

We were in a war then too, but World War One ended in 1919, although the US never ratified the Treaty of Versailles. So I guess we've always been and always will be, at war.

Eugene Debs, an Indiana boy from Terre Haute, went to prison for opposing the draft.

The Packers were founded. Boston sold Ruth to the Yankees, for $125,000. Black Sox --needs no clarification.

 Felix the Cat. was published, the first comic.

Over 10,000 suspected communists and anarchists were arrested in twenty-three different U.S. cities, etc. ad infinitum. 

And back here in 2016, Google fails to recognize infinitum.

Nothing like reading a little history to put things in perspective.

 Howl wasn't till 1954, Another interesting year.

 And 1968. I thought 1968 was the beginning of the end. I guess it all does go around and around and seems the worst in the moment.

But is it ever acceptable to say, 'well, okay. but I didn't cause it and at least I'm okay'.

 I'm good. I am, as the saying once went “free, white and twenty-one.” A warm apartment, hot and cold  running water, an indoor toilet, a washer and dryer, a place to park and a car to park in it, enough money for food and gas for that car. And a phone, the internet, kindle, free books from the library on line. There have been times none of these applied. But today is good. I can see, I can hear. This could go on and on, but too much of a good thing is almost as boring as a (cliche alert) litany of woes.

( Why did I write cliche alert? Cause I don't want my readers, who I imagine to be literate, astute,alert, clever and as critical as I am, to think I am unaware that it is a cliche. I imagine someone reading it and rolling his eyes and I cringe. Punctuation, ie commas, I don't give a hoot about.

 I am not a refugee, nor a Bush.  So many things it is good not to be nowadays.   Always were, always will be.

On a lighter note, I think I will go to Walmart and see if I can buy a pistol with bullets. I need an adventure. Not today. As soon as it gets warm out.