I woke  up this morning to one of those dreams where I could do nothing right.  Ever have one of those?   Send in the guilt!

I was teaching and it was time to give out final grades.  The students were in total control of the room, and all my missteps were showing. One student told me I was wasting my life.  That lesson for them–seeing me waste my life–was perhaps of some value to them.   That was my pick-me-up.  I had walked in to the session with an unlit fag (can I say that?) in my mouth which I quickly removed and placed under a stack of papers hoping no one saw it.  Turns out it was a joint–and I could not tell if that made it better or worse.

Speaking of which (for better or for worse) by the time I woke up & walked across the real room, I realized “for better or for worse” applies to being married to making sense.  You cannot.  You cannot make sense on a bed of nonsense.  No matter what you pull out from this crazy complex world in which we live, someone else will pull out something contrary.  So I asked myself:  Who do you want for President next?

  1. Someone Who voted for a war that turned out to mess up everything and who then contributed to that mess-up or
  2. Someone Who was against that war at the time but is for more of it now since everything is messed up by the war he opposed
  3. A really nice guy who advises us to stop, think, and dig down to ultimate values and guiding principles to get clear again–but who is seen as too nice for the job.
  4. The others, each of whom will not get the nomination but whose name you could write in if you care to have something (you think is) cute to say at a dinner party.

So I am hoping against hope that my mind will recede & I stop trying to make sense out of nonsense.  I will vote, but I won’t know why.  It’s like trying to pull a whole chicken out of a pot of chicken soup.  I want no longer to be married to being human.  We made a mess.  Humanity has an unlit fag in its mouth and humanity sees it.

But, then, as life would have it, a FB friend recommended a movie:  “Spotlight.”  Now I gotta go see it.   I’ll pick a non-AK47 time.  “Spotlight” shines itself on the 4th branch of government:  the press.  In a democracy, the press is supposed to be free and, as such, our savior.  The press is the university of democracy.  The press is where good writers write about what they have discovered with a noble desire to uncover the hidden and underlying forces that shape our world and where better writers improve upon the good writers and then the good writers get better.  They change, they grow, they dig, they uncover, they are relentless.  They do not sing choruses.  They find the verse–and the adverse.

Perhaps I can blame “Coast to Coast” for having a November 22 Kennedy Assassination program on that jarred me to sleep last night.  Yes, the coroner burned the blood stained papers in his fireplace that night.  Yes, the world as we knew it probably ended that night–but, then, since it did end with the handsome guy taking the bullet, the world as we knew it was not the world as we knew it.  Next we had a power wielding Texan, a I-am-not-a-crook crook, a stumbler, a Peanut Farmer, an actor, a Bush, a man who was not sure what is is, a Bush, and a … well … a cool guy who looks good in (most of) his suits.

And who do YOU want next?  God?

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