Mark Gowan's Blog, page 21

Blindness

The last four years have been difficult for any thinking person, for any person paying attention. It has not only been difficult because of the criminal intentions and activities of the Trump administration, but because of the seeming blindness to those intentions and activities by those around all of us, our fellow country men and women who cannot, or refuse to see the nature of the administration.

There is a blindness to such unadulterated adoration for such a blatantly bad person and the Republican party that continues to support him and what he stands for. And what does The Trump administration stand for, and the Republican party support? If their actions and rhetoric are considered, then it would seem that they stand for spite, revenge, hatred, fear, greed, and ignorance.

But there is more to it, there must be. There must be because there are those we love who seem blind to these human weaknesses, these frailties, these shortcomings. There must be because we cannot love those with such blackness in their hearts. It is not the politics, those within are blinded by their own stupidity and power lust, but those people, those in our lives? Those that we care about?

They must be lying, but they are not.

They must know they are mistaken, but they do not.

They must be blind to their mistakes, and we must not be mistaken about their blindness.

Strange Days

I went for a walk today with my dog and my wife. As we enjoyed the bright, blue skies and the sunshine warming my back, people said hello and smiled.

It is strange these days to see a smile. It is strange for many reasons. But I missed it nevertheless.

Maggie, my dog, is getting old and she was tired but the sun in her eyes still shown bright as she sniffed unseen interests and wagged her tail at the passing dogs on their walks.

Her happiness is not strange. She is happy all of the time, but I never get tired of seeing her content.

My wife is worried and I am no good at comforting her. I can only tell her to look up at the blue skies and watch as Maggie’s tail wags when she scratches her head.

It is strange these days to see a smile. It is strange for many reasons. But I miss it nevertheless.

Go Vote

Do not get mad. Go Vote.

Do not feel sorry for yourself. Go vote.

Do not make excuses or wonder how we got here. Go vote.

Don’t be afraid, although it is sad to say this. Go vote.

Do not be bullied or intimidated, or talked out of doing it. Go vote.

Disregard how you feel. Go vote.

Do not listen to the news, or others, or social media. Go vote.

Go vote like our future depends upon it.

It does. Go vote.

And Yes

The hour is upon us and yes it is that pinnacle of importance, but never forget that life is short and does not need to be brutish and fought with tooth and claw.

The day comes when the direction we traverse is changed and the course is determined, but there is hedonism and then there is happiness. Pick one over the other carefully, and remember to touch someone every once in a while.

The ugliness that humans do does not define the beauty of a night sky. The anger and raised voices do not overcome a morning in a forest full of birds. The injustice of a few does not make wrong right nor does it take away from the justice of the thoughtful.

And yes, we will overcome even this.

Vote!

Copenhagen IV

It is the same, the meandering cement and self-important chores of the lonely housewife. Strong coffee, the savior of us all will soon be poured followed by the grapes of wrath. There is death by gluttony and life one minute at a time.

The same window stares out and books replaced with bargains made with the devil. The same sky drapes across the pond replaced with the comfort of cake and the sound of children.

The silence of strangers strolling past on idyllic streets, strewn with flowers, each petal placed on succulent leaves by aging hands. The horses snorting and self-absorbed sit and a feigned smile forced upon the longing look of a lost friend dips down to feed the craving beast.

All is sold here, for the idea of strength, but perhaps with the knowledge of the lie, we wake and hope that in far off places there is still the untamed. The ground still fertile makes its way through the cracks in the places never seen. A lonely bell tolls for the god there never was, in pretty little steeples. There is no knowledge in these places, ling since forgotten, but kept in mind.

The trees fill with voices, almost gossiping and the forest is a town with no bricks. Taking in the sunlight and breathing out the sense that once made children of us all. And on that slippery slop we fall, giving up our childhood to praise the empty faces. This is, at the end, what Copenhagen is: a church with many gods with their followers in tow.

Opportunity

Opportunity does not knock, but it is out there for those willing to seek it out. But watch out because it comes cloaked in secrecy, a genie offering three wishes, none for nothing.

Out in the wilds of the unknown, it will appear on the horizon with a smirk on its face and promise in its eyes. Walk long enough and you will find it standing in the most inopportune place, waiting.

It is just a decision, you will tell yourself all the while knowing it is a lie. It is my fate, you will think, knowing that there is no such thing. It is what it is, opportunity will say. It is up to you. And there you both will stand, staring at the crossroads saying nothing.

The greatest thing in life is not hope, but opportunity. The biggest chance is not faith, but decision. The darkest day is regret and the clearest morning is the day that opportunity walks away.

Balance

We wake and the sun is not yet up but our brains are busy with the night’s work. So much. There is so much going on. There is the political mess that we often find ourselves in, and this time (of course) is so much worse. There is the overwhelming feeling of tiredness, especially in the mornings just before we tap our phones just to see. Oh, and Covid. We have to be responsible, we have to consider the possible consequences.

Oh, and our family. Our spouses, our children. Our responsibilities creep up on us, a conveyor belt of crass compensations follow. Busy work defines us, our jobs fill our days. We eat, we watch TV, phones in hand. The sun goes down on another beautiful day. Night blankets us in comfortable darkness allowing the blue haze of pixels to engulf us. We are social creatures living on a computer planet.

It gets late and our eyes tire. We’ve watched the world go by another day and we brace ourselves for the next. In our bed, the comfort of sleep not far away, we begin to worry about things that might happen, possible scenarios and deep-seated concerns about real issues. The pillow and sheets become our womb and we fall into a fitful sleep dreaming about the next day and the balance that it will bring.

As Wealth Goes

Steven Pinker, in Enlightenment Now, wrote “[Wealth] is created primarily by knowledge and cooperation: networks of people arrange matter into improbable but useful configurations and combine the fruits of their ingenuity and labor.” (80)

That is to say, the wealthy did not create their wealth alone, but with the cooperation of many people. The point that Pinker is making is that wealth is created, wealth has a cause, and that creation is the result of many inventors.

Consider corporations. By their very definition they are not individualistic. Therefore, the wealth that they create is not individualistically created. But many of the wealthy, especially what is sometimes called the “ultra” wealthy, make the argument that they deserve the wealth that they have. They are correct, but so do all of the other people that it took to create that wealth. Corporations are, in fact, the result of a community workforce.

Today’s political and social divide is not that of ideological beliefs, but of wealth. That there are those that choose to defend the unjust deserts of the wealthy is another matter, but it cannot be argued that the wealthy pulled themselves up by their own bootstraps. What the wealthy are doing at this point, for the most part, is dismantling a working government and hence a viable community and at the same time claiming that they have right to do so because they alone have created their wealth.

I know one man that has done just that, created his own wealth, and he had a hard row to hoe. But his wealth, even his, has been made on the understanding that there were others backs and others minds that put money in his bank account. Whatever else we choose to fight for, we must remember this: wage labor does not have to be slave labor.