Chaos, Worldwide. La, la la la la la..
SGHolland, here, on May 14, 2021, and breathing a little better now that the US seems to be hanging out its Dirty Laundry, as it were. It feels as if some truth is coming out, finally, about those who govern us and “keep us safe.”
On the other hand, today President Biden says it’s okay to take off my mask! Really?
But …. but…
[ it’s a little like being careful not to play on the train-tracks until Mommy says it’s okay.]
I’m still isolating, letting only a handful of people risk coming inside. We are vaccinated, but are they? And are there germs around my house from before we were vaccinated, or from the last visitors because they were not forthcoming about vaccinations. Maybe they were “anti-vacs” and didn’t bother to say so.
I know…I’m a Metaphor Junkie…but the patterns are so familiar. [ I am hearing my mother singing “Mother, May I Go Out to Swim…” “Yes, my darling daughter. Hang your clothes on a hickory limb…”and remember the last part? … “But don’t go near the water.”
What shall we do with a woman named Green — what a schizoid scene!
What shall we expect from an honest Republican named Liz Cheyney? Let truth prevail again!….. [Yes, Virginia, there are honest Republicans…really.]
Gaetz is playing his lying game….I blush to speak his name.
America’s Mayor is feeling his feet hit the fire. Hard on a liar.
What shall we do with an ex-exec named **ump? …think of a Lone Ranger song sung like this: “to the dump, to the dump, to the dump dump dump.
All cuteness aside, this place in New Mexico where I have been safely sequestered—for, oh, more than a year, — has delivered a sunny day today, and the seeds sown in the past weeks seem to have survived every kind of misfortune: drought, gale winds, hail, sub-freezing temperatures, gophers, stony clay moraine, a bit of neglect due to discouragement and lack of faith in Mother Nature. We did get real rain, to our surprise during the past weeks — two rains, in fact. But it was short-lived. We have been nursing the blades of grass as if they had been brought back from the dead. How do these green things stand nights of single digit temps Fahrenheit and merciless days of gale winds and blasting sun? Climate change? Some people say it’s a myth.
Some die.
Like the folks who get Covid-19. Some die. Could be us.
We wonder what it’s like in India. They think, they say, that they have hit the high death rate (only 300,000+ today) and are over the hump. But they are lying on pallets on the streets; hospitals are out of everything including space to bury their dead. They are floating around in the Ganges River, I read. Countries are sending over vaccine, but will the shipments get there or get shot out of the sky or the sea by some warring forces who takes them for a “bad guy.’ And will we be guilty of sending vaccine to India when we still have un-vaccinated (young) people?
Do we really think a lot in the US about the people in India? In Pakistan? In jails? How much can we bear to think about? Where is hope when you need it? Pick your burdens and leave the rest alone? That’s not hope.
I remember my folks, encouraging me to finish my dinner, talking about the “Starving Armenians.” I thought it was just an expression, the way they said it.
It was not a tall tale. It was not “just an expression.” I found out about it from an Armenian friend much later in my life. Heartbreaking.
Am I anxious? On the East Coast, they are trying to recover from a gas shortage due to the hacking of the gas tech that flows from Texas over to the southeast coast. My partner tells me the airplanes are crowded to the brim. Shoulder to shoulder. Masked. Or not. And running late — overbooked. Low on gas.
Hackers can pull our plugs in a lot of ways, way deep down in the coding.
Will the internet survive? Even lukewarm cellphone users have been taught over these two years to be very tightly enmeshed with our devices. Sleeping with the 1Plus these days. The more so as one by one the signals go down, and the hacking continues. They are hacking computer-user’s utilities now… and enjoying it. Where did all the cleverness come from? If they all went down for good, would we even notice it?
Would we scoff at those who told us “it’s over…the internet is terminally broken?” Would we call it a big lie, and try to call the power company to prove them wrong?
Are these deniers demons? Are they little devils who grew up on computer-gaming, and on Terror films. Are they adept at winning the games, killing all the other players? Or are they grown men and women who really believe they understand better about life and death than God?
It sounds metaphorical, but it is also actual. Have you looked at these “games” lately? Shock-ability has a new requirement, over and above shocking or scary or disgusting. It must be as frightening as TERROR actually is. Virtual dying is so exciting. Is that a short step to really dying on the streets playing the game of life? Can we figure out who it is who is so sure that life is just nothing more than another game?
What clandestine group does your grandchild secretly belong to? What kinds of riots does he or she attend? Did he or she buy a gun kit lately? Are there Q’s lying around on t-shirts? Are there new tattoos?
I must find out where the shotgun that has been tucked somewhere in this aged farmhouse. Just in case. For coyotes, you know.
I love the story of the Quaker man with the coyote gun who, when a bad guy was aggressively chasing him up the stairs said, “Thee might want to back up. I wouldn’t for the world wish to kill thee, but thee is standing right where I am about to shoot.”
©SGHolland 2021
