Psychologically, it makes sense. For the last two or three or ten months I have witnessed a deeper, more intense appreciation of the time I schedule each (and every) day for writing. It occurred to me recently that this might come as a subliminal response to the continual bombardment of negative news we are subjected to in this age of politics as reality TV. When I simply cannot take another scandal, racially motivated hate crime, school shooting, head count of incarcerated kids in dog cages, separated from their parents awaiting a ‘fair’ hearing, or our thoroughly corrupt administration attempt to gaslight the cover-ups, where I used to run, as in run for cover, I now write, as in the right thing.
I find it helps. To talk about, as a form of civil disobedience, the positive steps I personally take to deal with this relentless fire bombing of our pursuit of happiness. This cloud of despair is now known as physic stress. I find that writing is a constructive way to self medicate, an attempt at therapeutic calming of the nerves and quieting of the rage that screams from within for it to stop.
Just fucking stop. Indict the motherfucker and all his pathetic, complicit, obsessed with greed, criminal henchmen.
In the meantime, as Robert Mueller prepares to take his widow maker to the dusty streets of Pennsylvania Avenue, cleverly set to resemble the streets of Hadleville, and Mr M made up to play a Gary Cooper look-alike, I edit the screenplay of my response to the pending gun fight.
If it is as I believe it to be, our response should be some form of paradox. The allegory of the coin seems a good example, the ones with two sides to them. There is no doubt that ‘things in general’ are fairly decently screwed up. If you are a conservative republican, white, rich, racist, bigot, you are dismissed and should read no further. However, assuming you own a brain, a backbone and a soul, and I do assume you do, here is something to consider as we strategize the myriad ways and means to quit fighting among ourselves, join forces and face the madness that pervades the rich who want to be Kings. The flip side of the coin is the one with hope, faith, compassion, gratitude and forgiveness as logo.
We must heal ourselves first. I am of no good use to you in the rebellion if I am weak, sick, ignorant, drunk, frightened or doing hard time. Oddly enough, that combination of characteristics is exactly what they fear. If I am ruling ham-fisted over a sheep-like population in order to exploit them for personal gain that LAST thing I want is for them to be strong, healthy, educated, vigilant, sober and free. In that scenario I am a dead duck, not merely a lame one.
While this is not a dress rehearsal, it is practice. The curtains will rise and the filming starts now. THIS IS IT. It is Showtime. The cast has been assembled, the stages detailed, the lights on and filtered, the scripts distributed, studied and prepared and the stunt men standing by. We are ready for action. The cinematographer sits on the cherry picker ready to roll. AND YOU ARE THE STAR. You stand on the streets awaiting your destiny, alone.
Step into the responsibility of your role. You know what it is. You have prepared, consciously, or in deep REM since the moment you took your first breath. And every day since. It is not only the role we play but the sacred duty of our existence. We must speak out. This for justice, for liberty and freedom and for our very form of constitutional democracy. As Cooper might have phrased it, it is right versus wrong.
Exercise your bodies, work them hard, stay curious, research everything, and schedule proper time to listen to the magical and miraculous lyrics your soul wants to sing.
Then sing them. LOUD and CLEAR. Pass them along. Write them down, Blog about them. Call your Representative, Congresswoman or Senator and ask them to please listen to the chorus. Tell your neighbor. Post it to Facebook. Send it off in a letter to yourself. Rewrite it. Review it. Edit it. Color it. Nail it to a telephone pole with the butt of your .45.
IT IS NOT ABOUT MONEY. IT IS ABOUT LOVE. (Where IT = grace)
Psychologically, this makes sense. It is High Noon.
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