Sunday, February 15, 2009

Well, that about does it

I couldn't even read that last one, because if I did I'd have to make some sort of editorial decision, which I'd pledged not to do. 

So, that's about it. Now I have to turn my efforts to something having a little more quality. I have to continue making a living. I have to get my daughter out of bed.

But I do feel that there is this moment in our collective history, at the end of this blind rush through the scientific and industrial revolutions, and right up to this moment of truth with our political establishments. Thanks God for GWB, since he made possible the very unlikely election of an intelligent, honorable, and decent man. I doubt that would have been possible had not the extreme dysfunction been so thoroughly exposed. It could not have been a landslide, but it could easily have been more of the same.

And now the poor fellow, savvy as he is about the nature of politics, is facing brain-dead politicians on both sides of the aisle, still running on some mindless momentum, having nothing other from their tired old positions and jockeyings and fundamentalist beliefs. Were it only possible to throw them all out and start afresh. Would that we really could celebrate a genuine rite of renewal and find again the promise that has been these United States. 

But there is still new life. There are still new possibilities. And there is this final turning of an important page, to where the body and mind are not opposed. To where abstraction ends, and practical matters again claim our attention. To where the female is in ascendant, and caring counts for more than winning. To where as much energy is expended toward preserving as much of the fullness of life on earth as is humanly possible, now that all life on earth is in our hands, as we have expended on rocketships and glass and steel tall buildings. To where the particular exhuberance of wealth generation peters out against more modest generations of community life. To where truth is a process of rubbing up against all tellers, and not of final abstraction and perfection and God imaginings which seem, only and always, to produce more pain.

God on earth is alive, collective, earthy, and very very female.

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