It snowed the other day where I live. That did help, a bit. Changing of seasons makes for nice patterns to ritualistic self-discovery.
But dig. This is at least the third week that I am behind on posting. I never really cared about the deadline, too much. However. I also put a single day of the week in the title of the series. And this is just how my operation runs.
And with such a sort of tardiness, and with, finally, the taste of winter air, I find myself nearly crippled by wariness of redundancy. While simultaneously pushing myself toward habits of patterned organization. And a conflict arises here, as I so often repeat myself about not repeating myself. Something that could so easily turn what has been intended as a reflection of life and times of the human condition could turn to something truly horrible. Something I deeply despise. A whiney, self-help-ish blog.
Fret not. I aim to contribute to mix of the world.
Though many folks do.
And it does seem peculiar, whilst still tragic, that those who contribute negatively can so easily gain the greater attention. And even more mad and wild, some gain affection.
There was a bomb today. In between the platforms of two busy subway lines. Or so told the newspaper.
And nothing else need be said. For you already know. You have been saturated with it. As you were with the last of so many horrific acts of violence, or in the most recent case, a botched attempt. As it was with many before that.
There will be coverage of the recovery and relief and the sort. I can bet the ratings significantly lower than the non-stop tragedy coverage. Nothing is lower than the channel that broadcasts Congress though. It is probably only a hundred and half people who ever watch that.
And meanwhile, someone else sees that and somehow finds inspiration. Someone with a wasted mind and ability and whatever history that swayed them from feeling nice about anything. So him or her or they, think it is a grand idea to go hurt people they likely don’t even know to prove some point that they probably don’t even believe in.
So. How in the hell do you stop it?
The online yoga people sure as shit ain’t doing it. Shove the namaste in your downward dog for all the good it does the world. Does wonders for the back, though. The rest of the spiritual lot with them. Inward focus is grand and all, but if you are going into the public square with your self-awareness, it’s kind of douchey.
The fake newsers and truthers and new bloggers and ambulance chasers and etc. and etc…?
The only purpose they have is to show us the filth of our selves that we already see. While most of the other formerly or supposedly credible media sources are hardly better. And most of them are focused on legal battles for the perverts they’ve been fostering. And then what, a dozen newspapers that still just write the fucking news?
So mass media is out.
And no, this doesn’t count. A few dozen readers does not count as ‘mass’ in any sense.
What does one do then? Where does one go to, if not to challenge or defeat, at least take cover from the barrage of bad shit happening storm?
Church? Ha!
Sorry.
Well, no. No, I don’t believe I am sorry.
I know folks take their faith(s) seriously. But one of the issues with our dumbass species right now just so happens to do with hroups of folks and individuals taking religions too far. Way too far.
And even the charitable and service bits get lost. Some only mining good feelings from attempted kindness. Some with even worse intentions. Ingenuine giving helps no one. People not from the neighborhood going into a not so upscale neighborhood to plant a garden will not help that neighborhood with any of their problems. Not in any grand or lasting way. If I were a betting man.
Plus, there have been a good many perverts in all sorts of churches throughout the years. So, we’ll cross them off the list for solution to the suffering of life.
So then, family?
Well, yes. Of course. If you have that. Some don’t and I’d be willing to be most people don’t have a perfect one. Don’t forget, every mass shooter likely had someone related to them watch them on the news. Plus, that uncle who stole money or something like that. I myself, have a good one. Though far from picturesque.
If you have a perfect family, good for you.
Seriously.
Also, piss off.
But even if you are graced with some divine immediate relatives, they are not where we will make the world different. It is outward from which all the horrors we see seem to come. So it must be outward where we seek the resolution.
So, community then. What a tricky thing.
We have a global one, yes. Vastly more connected than even fifteen years ago- never mind a hundred or two. Instantly nearly anywhere in world. With face and voice and a transfer of funds.
Yet we still struggle with our own backyards. Scamming, scheming and violence. There are towns where people cannot trust those sworn to protect them. And as bad as some places and instances of conflict may have occurred in the States, there are parts of the world with truly terrifying law enforcement.
That’s why there’s always a bunch of folks trying to get to America, ever since there has been one. I don’t believe too many have ever gotten the warmest welcome. At most, historically, immigrants are with indifference. The idea of acceptance is newer, socially. On such large scales. Murder in your sleep or mass grave type of stuff.
And maybe that is how the greater good is got at. Not mass murder, but focusing on our interactions with each other. And in the real world. Bring conversation to conflict. An open mind, ear and eye for a neighbor. New or old. Or at the very least, do nothing if the other option isn’t something good. Any level of strife with another human worked at and rectified. Or just a bit of friendliness and compassion. Though, dammed if that doesn’t seem impossible sometimes. A good bit of times. A lot, of times.
It would work, if you could get everyone to do that.
And maybe the rainbows would spew gluten-free vegan gummy bears and everyone would get eight hours of sleep a night and sunshine comes out of everyone’s ass.
Doesn’t do an argument very good if you defeat it all yourself before anyone ever gets a chance to. It serves as protection, though. No one can name my suggestions as dumb if I do so first. Then they would only be agreeing with my point.
But maybe that last one, being a good neighbor, isn’t bullshit. And maybe this ramble isn’t all bullshit. For all I ever do here is write a quick fart of honest for a few people who may like to read them. There’s no money involved. I certainly don’t make any from it.
It’s just a way of talking to neighbors.
Well, talking at them, I suppose.
But within all of it, the idea of thinking about doing good things upon witnessing all the bad things that are crammed down nearly every sentient being on this planet is planted.
Which means the next time you- yes you- interact with someone else, you might think about whether to be a shithead or not. Trust me, it is a tough choice. And you may choose to not. And you may even be nice and helpful.
And hell, maybe you already do. And if you do. Please, don’t stop. Even when it gets really, really, really, really hard.
I saw a picture. I don’t remember if it was the mugshot or a driver’s license. Of the guy who made the bomb that went off today. In New York, I mean. There were likely others elsewhere as well.
But.
He didn’t look like a supervillain.
He looked sad. And lonely. I don’t know if he was, but the face says what it says. He looked like he’d had his sense of confidence chipped away by strangers and peers alike. And by his own self. He might have had shit neighbors. Might not have.
Either way, he chose to be a dick. Though I hope it does not inspire more, trends do suggest otherwise.
I may not make the world a better place.
But, I will try. I am, trying. As I’ve been, trying. It is not easy having to compete with the television and pornography and Sunday mass and social media and napping and football and stupid Christmas/holiday/I don’t give a damn, and few thousand other things. But so be it. It’s worth a shot.
It is better than doing nothing. And way better than being a nasty son-of-a-bitch.
The Veracious Facade 