The influence of gaslight or electric light on the growth of paraheliotropic trees

bonebrushing the edges of the res interna (upper transcend)

Tag: obama

We stand upon the edge of a great precipice

** squawk ** ** bleep ** “We stand upon the edge of a great precipice…” ** a black and white television clicks on ** “We  stand upon the edge …” ** squawk ** the channel changes ** “We stand upon the edge of a great precipice” ** squawk bleep beep ** I sit in front of it ** time-lapse ** I was not in this room, I was in some other room ** smaller ** a different city ** higher ceilings ** “We stand upon the edge of a” ** I sit in a Starbucks window and watch people walk by ** It is a great city, New York, no matter what ** “We stand … ” *** I was elsewhere, once ** elsewhere again ** This moment ** ” … the edge” ** In the time lapse my beard appears and grows and recedes like the beaches of New Jersey ** squawk ** It is an old man, speaking ** He is the President of the United States ** It is a young man speaking. He is the President of the United States. ** It is a black man speaking. He is the President of the United States. ** I am a child, ten years old, November, I go down and turn on the television ** there is going to be a new President, it says ** “We stand upon the edge of a great precipice … ” *** I am three years old. My mother calls me and says “Josh, come watch the space shuttle take-off” *** squawk bleep squawk *** bombs go off in a jungle. I have not yet been born. *** the infinite past collapses *** squawk *** the infinite future collapses *** this moment is now *** no, this moment is now *** no, this moment is now *** I am the Salem Witch Museum, and Giles Corey is asking for more weight — my father says, “No, he was actually saying ‘Wait –” *** squawk *** It is two weeks ago — I am laying in my tent, high of cannabis butter, looking through the mesh at the bright country stars *** squawk *** I have not yet been born. It is a hundred thousand years ago. The land is silent. Naked men look up at the pinprick lights in the sky and wonder *** The Space Shuttle rises *** I am in a room — it is several years ago — I play a video of a speech — a man is saying that we are not Red States or Blue States *** right now, the real now (30 seconds ago) my ex calls. We fight about science & Larry Summers *** “We stand upon the edge of a great precipice” **  A television plays ** swim **


Tired old man we elected king

Who is John McCain? Can a pugnacious penguin, a tortured bravo, really rule this increasingly complex behemosity known as Amerika? Merrik, you Young Empire, do you want an Old Man to lead you, the Fortunate Son of admirals, the hero locked in bamboo cages? Shall we let the Son of the Jungle loose on the Men of the Deserts? What does he know of warfare and empire? How can he mistake Shia from Sunni? How can he minimize the true complexity of these issues?

 ZR says bomb Iran, and misses the complexity of the issue. He does not see the other side. He does not sit in their shoes. To defeat your enemy, you must become your enemy, and the greatest defeat is to make him your friend — shall Persia stand up to the Colossus? We tremble at their shoutings, but oh how they must tremble at ours — we have them encircled — increasingly incircled — and we wonder that they are jumpy?

And what of My People, the Children of Abraham, People of the Sword, nervous in Masada?

I love them, my love for them is eternal, my heart rests in Jerusalem, but, but, but — we must follow Jacob and dwell in the house of Laban, not Esau who dies by the sword.

And so then, the King I Choose, the Secret Wanderer who has been chosen by Destiny, the Contingent One, Who Exists Because America Exists. He is our Favorite Son, the Voice of the New Tomorrow, the Bringer of Hope.

 Tomorrow comes, and with it death and dust and destruction but also life, and love, and beauty. We must turn towards the beauty and away from the dust — we must sit in the tents of our fathers, and let them wash the dust from our feet – and we must make merry, and eat good food, and rejoice — and we must love each other, and see beyond the bone-fences that hem us in and see and take our place among the starborn beings who, through the shocking surprise of their contingency, delight the silent watchers who sit beyond. That these things matter to us, and will one day matter to others. That the sun shines on us, and will one day shine on others.

The universe is cold, but there is warmth in it, and in that warmth, the warmth of future days, the promise of the continuation, we must take comfort.