Category Archives: |Ramble

Ramble: Sacred Thoughts

Recently I have been having a debate about the “sacred”.

I find the word is overused as a tool to make people listen – similiar to the way the concept of “privilege” is used to kill debate.

Today I posted this in response to an article about Jennifer Lawrence profaning some rocks in Hawaii with her holy-J-Law butt.  Just because I rather enjoyed the sound of my own voice on this one, I decided to copy and preserve my ramble on why “nothing is sacred”

https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2016/dec/09/jennifer-lawrence-hawaii-shoot-sacred-rocks

Proof at last (again?) that Jennifer Lawrence is an ass – and an itchy one at that! Apparently one can be wealthy and successful and have no class. (See President-Elect)
 
Still not sacred. Not the rocks and even less so her itchy ass (and there are some that do worship her ass…)
One can have/show deference and respect without accepting that everything mundane is sacred. Water is not sacred. Rocks are not sacred. Books and the words they contain are not sacred. I would propose that the word you are looking for is not sacred – sacred is holy and inviolate and the belief that something is sacred sets up an idea/thought itself as crime for thinking differently. Those that profane the sacred must be purged. The Satanic Verses. Charlie Hebdo. Atheist must be killed. Apostates must be killed.
After all, just think how many people have declared the Second Amendment as sacred? Or that Capitalism is sacred and Socialism is profane? Nothing is sacred – anything and everything can be questioned and critiqued. Otherwise we would still be living in a flat world watching the sun chariot orbit around our sacred place at the centre of the cosmos. Copernicus. Galileo. Darwin. Jesus. They all disrupted the inviolable..
People must stop declaring everything as sacred; once something is sacred that ends all reasonable discussion and dialogue. Instead: Tell me what is important to you; how it has meaning to you; and the what and why of how it gives you strength and meaning to your inner world:
Water is vital; Rocks have memory and meaning; These words move me…
So what word are we seeking? I am not certain – I just know that translating cultural concepts from living Lakota or living Hawaiian into the western baggage of dead Latin is likely to lead to inaccuracies. Yet, I do not think we disagree on moral principles – simply on the words doing the framing.
In the end we are debating semantics and lexicon. Which seems and sounds rather pedantic and academic – yet that is exactly the heart of all legal documents and the source of all wars. The words we choose to use, to make sacred, unite us; and divide us.
.
But as if a magic lantern threw the nerves in patterns on a screen:
Would it have been worth while
If one, settling a pillow or throwing off a shawl,
And turning toward the window, should say:
“That is not it at all,
That is not what I meant, at all.”
~~T.S.Eliot

Ramble: Waterloo Region Record: Failure to Deliver the News.

Hello Circulation:

I just received my renewal notice and I am writing to inform you I will not be renewing my subscription. I had hoped to receive the paper before I left for work 8 AM weekdays and 9am Saturdays. Which I think wasn’t a very high expectation on my part. Yet it was an expectation that was never met. Instead I would come home to find my paper tossed under my bushes or in the puddle when it was raining. While the hunt for the papers was somewhat exhilarating, that small delight was negated by the waterlogged papers.
On my vacations I did catch sight of my local delivery person carelessly tossing the paper out the window of their truck as they sped by my driveway and on to the next driveway. They paid no attention to where the paper ended up (under my car on that occasion).
I did complain about the failure to deliver in a timely fashion and nothing was ever done to improve the delivery. So I went from weekly delivery to weekend only. Oddly enough I continued to receive a weekly paper for an extended period after changing my service. A small ray of sunshine.
Suffice to say I am less than impressed. I have regaled my neighbours and co-workers with my stories of the poor service. I realize you do have to work with whomever is available to deliver – however in this case your employee has failed to perform. And that in the end reflects poorly on your organization.
I had subscribed as my small contribution toward keeping The Record a viable local news source. I now am surrendered to the fact that The Waterloo Region Record doesn’t care if it delivers.
Sincerely
Stephen M.

Poem: Huddled Masses

A year has past and it seems nothing really changes – and sometimes it even seems to move backwards in time and space.

Here is my US Thanksgiving post revisited. Still one of my better poems.

merlinspielen

They flee
because they are forced
They did not choose
to have bombs dropping on their door
They do no want
to live on a hostile foreign shore.

They run
with what is precious
in aching arms
frightened children crying for food
They would rather
be anywhere than in their homes.

We here
casually watch them
like swarming ants
afraid to share our warm comforts;
“not my problem!”
forgetting the words etched offshore:

“Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!” cries she
With silent lips. “Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”

The words reshaped for our store-time romp
and shopping trips “Give me your deals, and more,
We’re huddled shoppers yearning for cheap goods,
Those wretched products imported from foreign shore.
Send…

View original post 106 more words

Ramble: Just Saying

There are words inside me. And no one to hear them. They float on the tip of my tongue in swirling poetic tones. Waiting for the moment to arrive and launch their crisp sonorous meters into the air. I stay silent because I do not dare to break the silence when none are near to hear or care.

The ticking clock winds down past the hour into the next and then around again, clicking into the sunset crawling across the eastern walls of my living room. Gone gone gone much to soon is the charm of my youthful truth spilling out from my pain into the wounded evening light bleeding from behind the clouds.

And there it is then. The finality of the moment breaching the infinity of our progress into some other tomorrow we never imagined happening. It is always just there. Out of sight and out of mind. Lurking between here and the garden gate.

And so now I sleep. Deeply. Forlornly. Avoiding my fate. Avoiding the light. Avoiding the dawn that will rattle me awake,

Ramble: Sleeping Muses; Silent Voices

Some days are better than other days. And some days are more bitter.

Here I drift within the doldrums of darkness. I am creatively unsparked. Where my writer’s heart should be playful beating out a cadence for each line – there is only the flat-lined hum of cardiac failure. Does anyone even read this blog anymore? Why would they? There is nothing new here. No new words and thoughtful inspirations. Just the ongoing recycling of hunger unfulfilled.

I need a new shtick.  A new gimmick for a new audience. I could write about food and beverage. Indulge in fine craft beers paired with exotic hand-crafted local cheeses. Spew sensual sentences about the tantalizing tastes teasing my tongue with balanced tones of esters and glucose exciting my hunger for more. And no I cannot do that. I would be lost in my enjoyment of the food and forget to write my thoughts.

Oye.  Sports? Ick. Music? <yawn>

Book reviews – oh wait I would have to start reading again. And I find I get side-tracked by wondering why the writer decided to branch the story away from an enticing side-quest into the normal well-worn plot points of what sells books. Ah yes – I guess that answers that thought. I have a dozen books strew around my house partially read and bookmarked inside and beneath the dusty dust-jackets. Award winning books I was told I should read for their current cultural relevance and revelations. Oh god they read like re-warmed shit strained through  pompadour to mask the unpleasant stench of plot banality  and the de jure unexpected plot-twist de jour….

Oh I would pluck mine eyes from my head if I am forced to read another word crafted by Joseph Boyden.

Yes I know he is renowned and regaled and endowed with awards. I cannot stand how he writes. But I guess that is why there are a thousand other writers waiting to be discovered. Oh my god – I actually wrote a review? What? An unintended and unenlightened review! I must also admit I hated the movie Titanic – so that may be a sign that you should go read Boyden!

Enough for now. I just felt I should force myself to write something. ANYTHING!

And I did.

Happy November.