The transition from conception to birth is amazingly complex and mysterious.
The transition from birth to human adulthood is just as complex and mysterious.
Yet the most mysterious transition of all is the transition from human being to spiritual being consumed by love.
Few make this last transition, a transition that should be the goal of all life learning.
Our eyes have eyes.
Our hearts have hearts.
Our minds have minds.
Our spirits have spirits.
How else could we unravel the world and discover what makes us human in it?
Great artists unleash everything they know in their work, Michaelangelo did that on the Sistine ceiling. The Van Eycks did that on the Ghent Altarpiece. Diego Rivera did that on his great Detroit murals. Picasso did that on Guernica. William Kentridge did that on his animated drawings.
Art is the measure of the artist. Art is the measure of what the artist has the courage and endurance to give.
New autobiographies
Donald Trump: Look at me. No, look at me.
Melania Trump: Life is a Runway: No Clothes to the Very Best Clothes
The Kushners: Look Good, Accomplish Nothing
Rudy Guiliani: Law and Buffoonery
Mike Pence: My Life with Donny and Mommy
Lindsay Graham: Senate Slap Happy Lap Dog
Falling in love is just what the movies tell you it is. The first kiss, the first sexual encounter, the proposal and the wedding. That’s where the movie usually ends, but falling in love doesn’t stop there. It continues through the bumps, the day-to-day tussles and the little discoveries till at some point falling in love becomes being in love.
Being in love hints at the enduring nature of love. Being in love is wonderful but is no guarantee of staying in love. Staying in love is really honoring the solemn commitment made at the wedding. Staying in love is loyalty, duty, true intimacy, endurance through hardship, full acceptance of the lover—all of it.
No matter how many carols. No matter how many trees with colored lights. No matter how many cards. No matter how many presents. No matter how many Santas. If you don’t spend a least a little time thinking about the true meaning of Christmas, then it’s just another Xmas.
Donald Trump requires some new words be invented just to describe him and his antics. Feel free to use them in you day-to-day speech.
Asstrollnomical
Dick-tater
Narcissistopath
Pricksidential
Nutsodipsomaniacal
Mememenopath
Despicoraunchable
Pustulanatory
Obestial
Buttliar
Crotchalacious
This is what I’d like to see. A regiment of artists each carrying a bullhorn walking the city, pointing and saying: Look! Beauty! Look! Beauty! Look! Beauty!
After all, what are artists for?
From an artist’s perspective, there is nothing in the world that can’t be mined for its beauty.
Every ugly, brutal and evil act will eventually be called out for what it is. But beauty is honest from start to finish.
Don’t settle for pretty when you can have beauty.
Recognizing beauty in the world awakens something deep inside.
Beauty may be in the eye of the beholder, but true beauty is in the soul of the beholder.
Thump Mister Trump
On his quite ample rump
Kick out, Mister Lout
We’re tired of his pout
And his family gang
We’ll eject with a bang
And Melania too
Every dress, every shoe
Grabbed by the hair
Unglued from his chair
Oval Office then yearns
That integrity returns
Clean the whole place with care
Disinfect everywhere
Taco shells, fast food wrappers
In the bedrooms and crappers
DeVos and her schools
All the cabinet fools
Goodbye and farewell
To the President from hell
D oing the checkbook is no longer possible.
E asy tasks are difficult.
M emory is shot and repetition becomes the norm.
E ach day brings little signs of slipping away.
N oise and disruption cause confusion and distress.
T ime and place get muddled.
I ntelligence is eroded.
A nxiety is a constant companion.
If dementia was a longer word, there would still be much more to say.
Call me a grouch, but I’ll say it again. I’m not overwhelmed by all these celebrities who give their time and money to support good causes. Why? Because they get more press, more notoriety, their names on all kinds of things, bunches of accolades for doing something which ought to be automatic and expected and does not affect their comfort in the least.
But one of the consequences of covid is that the news media has begun to pay a lot more attention to ordinary folks whose contributions to their communities is extraordinary. Nurses, doctors, first responders, social workers, pastors, community organizers, artists, school children.
The ordinary citizen gives time and money not necessarily out of their excess. The ordinary citizen doesn’t expect attention for what they do. It’s just what’s expected of a decent person.
I hope that after this pandemic subsides, the news media will continue to give due attention to these ordinary extraordinaries.
Know yourself is a simple but powerful Socratic adage. It’s impossible to achieve fullness as a human being without accomplishing this task. But it isn’t an easy task. It requires reflection, failure, forgiveness, attentiveness and courage. And it only happens over time.
Knowing yourself means recognizing that you as a human being are inhabited, in some degree, by every bit of the spectrum of being human. You contain good. You contain evil. You contain pain. You contain anger and greed. You contain compassion. You know what I mean. You experience these. You live these. You are human.
In turn, knowing yourself in this way allows you to see and accept the full humanity of others. You meet them on their journey because you have made the journey.
This time of year children will be showered with gifts, part of the joy of the holidays.
But
Children need time and attentive listening.
They need help turning their concrete picture of the world into a rich and pliable one.
They need help building self-confidence--not trophies and empty praise.
They need role models to follow--and rebel against.
They need to discover that play is their job.
They need to experience the value of hard, honest work.
They need to learn how to fail gracefully.
They need to experience that giving is getting.
They need love delivered in words, touch and action.
Be nice.
Be kind.
Be fun.
Be true.
If you subtract all the life experiences that came from people who were nice, kind, fun and true, what would be left?
Last bit of nonsense. I promise.
Santa brings presents
And lots of good cheer
He loves all the cookies
And bottles of beer
But he does so much more
When he comes for a visit
You’re probably thinking
So tell me what is it
Well, down through the chimney
And up in a flash
He cleans out the chimney
Of soot, cinder and trash
While the reindeer are waiting
In the garden they poop
To fertilize the veggies
That will go in our soup
If a shingle is loose
He’ll tap it down too
And cleared snow from the driveway
As away that he flew
When he stops for a gas up
He’ll buy some beef jerky
And some snacks for the reindeer
Cause their diet is quirky
He supports local business
With his time and his money
And that’s why dear Santa
Is a helpful old honey
Ding dong ding dong
Someone at the door
The man was dressed in red and white
His beard hung to the floor
His sleigh and dozen reindeer
Were parked upon my grass
His load of wrapped up presents
Left me quite aghast
Hello, he said, champagne for me
The reindeer need snack
We’re hardly half way through the trip
And I’ve trouble with my back
Your chimney’s filled with soot and muck
I couldn’t wiggle down
Loose shingles made the reindeer slip
And the sleigh slid all around
He laughed and said, but that’s okay
It’s Christmas time, you know
Even dummies make me smile
When there’s colored lights and snow
So where’s the champagne that I need
Fa la, I’ll take the bottle
That will send me on my way
With joy and at full throttle
Dad was in the bedroom
Jumping on the bed
His feet were wiggling in the air
And the ceiling hit his head
Mom was making pancakes
Flipping big and small
Some flew out the window
Some stuck to the wall
Sis was in the backyard
Making mud pies with the dog
The postman brought a box
Of kitty cats and frogs
The frogs were hopping on the bed
And having fun with Dad
The kitty cats were chasing down
The kitchen mice we had
Grandma knocked and walked right in
To find the house a mess
“Oh, my!” she said, I have a frog
In the pocket of my dress
She screamed and screamed
And whacked it on the bean
And ran to do a back flip
On the backyard trampoline
BREAKING NEWS
Melania is offering a one million dollar prize to anyone who can build a protective shield that will keep all of Donald’s character away from Barron.
The Country Music Association has issued an urgent call for clichés. They are currently quickly running out of them for song themes.
Rudy Guiliani is seeking two million dollars for his role in the Borat sequel where he actually does pull his pants down.
Mike Pompeo reports that once he is no longer Secretary of State he will have the time to devote to his Noom regimen.
The Proud Boys announced that they have organized the Proud Girls, a cheerleader group that will perform at all rallies. Their costumes are now being designed by Melania’s hairdresser.
Many have experienced frustration and utter confusion in the study of mathematics. “I don’t understand it, and I don’t see why I need to know this stuff.” Well, here’s a true short, short story demonstrating…
The Power of Mathematics
In high school I was nominated to attend Pelican Boys State. We went to the State Capitol in Baton Rouge, LA to learn about government through mock elections and law making.
One day, when I entered one of the rooms in the government building, there were four boys, kneeling, pants down, their penises erect. They invited me to join their competition for who could ejaculate the farthest.
Being a good, repressed Catholic boy, I declined—a decision I regret to this day.
Why? Because I knew that at a 45 degree angle, the parabolic arc of the ejaculate would span the greatest linear distance. My love cannon, suitably angled, would have won the contest.
And that, my friends, is the power of mathematics.
If you experience a mental illness and come out healthy, you realize that that your brain concocts the reality that you experience as your own. Reality that seems so solid is very fragile. Reality that seems so clear can turn into a muddle. reality that seems fixed can evaporate in an instant.
Reality is a delusion, but it’s a delusion you need for your sanity. The brain runs the show, and we have to live with its contradictions and whims.
Boys will be boys. That’s a given.
Men will be boys. And that can be the end of it.
Men will be men. This is where the work happens.
Men will finally achieve equality when:
There is a “Masculine Protection Products” aisle at Kroger’s
and
Male pole dancers make as much as female pole dancers
and
Men can go to the office in a nice sleeveless summer shirt
and
Men can show affection in public as they want without shame
and
Did I forget anything?
We can’t dismiss the value of naked time. Gone with the clothing that protects us from outside forces. Gone with the uniforms that define us. Gone with the fashion that we use to depict ourselves. Forget concerns for hair or for the creams and oils for anti-this and anti-that.
Let go of vanity. Return to your day-1 outfit. Spend time with yourself, free in your own body. Nakedness for its own self.
So sleep naked. Lay around naked. Swim naked. Watch TV naked. Vacuum the house naked. And no, just wearing underwear doesn’t count.
Men.
Glory in your role as pack animal. For you cannot bear the burden of childbirth.
Men.
Glory in your role as seed bearer. You cannot carry the child, but you can sow and mow and row and tow.
Men.
Glory in your stereotypical role as the bumbling husband. Then your natural responsibility and skills will reap surprising rewards.
Men.
Glory in your role as doting father. Doting looks really great on FB and really ups your empathetic abilities.
Men.
Glory in your cooking skills beyond the BBQ grill. Chefs are really sexy these days, and it’s the manly thing to do.
Men.
Glory in your ancient role as hunter. Go fishing, kill rodents and spiders, trap raccoons and possums.
Men.
Glory in your manliness and manhood that are the gift of testosterone. Hormones are not forever.
A very few of us have the reach to embrace the whole world, learning to love everything in it. But each of us has the capacity to embrace a piece of it, a piece we choose to love. If we choose do this, this small love gives us to understand the power of big love.
The behemoths of government, religion and education can be demanding, constricting and rigid as they go about their job of creating structure in societies. The arts are pervasive and eternally present in their task of revealing and explaining what makes us human.
The behemoths and the arts are neither culprits or saviors. The behemoths can be oppressive or can give us the tools to save us from ourselves and the chaos we are capable of. The arts can be complacent or self-centered or give us hope, beauty and appreciation of our humanity.
We need both of these. We need to allow them to do what they are tasked to do, but we need to work vigilantly to make sure they are doing their tasks well. We need to recognize that they work best when together they collaborate in healthy and respectful balance.
