"We do not know what we want and yet we are responsible for what we are - that is the fact."
- Jean Paul Sartre
Monday, December 18, 2006
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
Act!
The more often a man feels without acting, the less he'll be able to act.
And in the long run, the less he'll be able to feel.
- C.S. Lewis
And in the long run, the less he'll be able to feel.
- C.S. Lewis
Thursday, November 16, 2006
Kiva
I saw a story on this organization on PBS "Frontline" last week and it seems like an interesting idea. Kiva is a website (http://www.kiva.org) that partners with microfinance institutions all around the world and allows anyone with $25 to invest in a small business in a developing country. It's quite a powerful idea. By cutting out the middle-man inherent in most large organizations (not to mention the high interest rates that people are often saddled with when they borrow through a bank), you can be sure that your money is going directly to a particular person with a particular business plan. The site profiles specific people and their business plans and you can choose which you would like to lend to. Anything that fosters this kind of direct human connection is a wonderful idea...
Slow Man
Just read "Slow Man" by J.M. Coetzee and I'm still digesting it, but here are a few thoughts:
In both this book and "Disgrace" (which I also read recently) Coetzee's them is love. How we get it, how we lose it, how we spend much of our time being molded by our desire for it, our meager attempts at learning how to give it and how we are never quite able to feel satisfied by it. In "Slow Man" the surface story is of an aging photographer who loses his leg in a bicycle accident and has to learn to deal with his own depression, hopelessness and feelings of love for his nurse. A character enters midway through the book who seems to be either a stand-in for the author or ourselves as readers - a character who knows everything we know about the man (Paul Rayment), as if she was reading a book about him. This character is treated abysmally by Paul: left out in the cold, ignored, scorned. She places herself in the most vulnerable position, and is judged as being too old, too ugly, too grating for him to ever love. And so it ends. No resolution. No love.
Whew. It's a tough one, emotionally. "Disgrace" was equally hard-core. What I like about his writing is the honesty of it. The bare-bones, heart-wrenching emotional truth. What I find hard to take is the total and complete lack of any hope. Perhaps other readers have found it there? Somewhere?
In both this book and "Disgrace" (which I also read recently) Coetzee's them is love. How we get it, how we lose it, how we spend much of our time being molded by our desire for it, our meager attempts at learning how to give it and how we are never quite able to feel satisfied by it. In "Slow Man" the surface story is of an aging photographer who loses his leg in a bicycle accident and has to learn to deal with his own depression, hopelessness and feelings of love for his nurse. A character enters midway through the book who seems to be either a stand-in for the author or ourselves as readers - a character who knows everything we know about the man (Paul Rayment), as if she was reading a book about him. This character is treated abysmally by Paul: left out in the cold, ignored, scorned. She places herself in the most vulnerable position, and is judged as being too old, too ugly, too grating for him to ever love. And so it ends. No resolution. No love.
Whew. It's a tough one, emotionally. "Disgrace" was equally hard-core. What I like about his writing is the honesty of it. The bare-bones, heart-wrenching emotional truth. What I find hard to take is the total and complete lack of any hope. Perhaps other readers have found it there? Somewhere?
Sunday, November 12, 2006
Sometimes, if an evening is cool, and the breeze brushes my face just so
and the leaves shake with stifled laughter from their bony branches
rustling softly and murmuring like huddled sisters,
sometimes if the moon is full and my eyes are drawn up from slate and concrete,
the brownstone skyline crouching under a velvet sky,
sometimes my sorrow nods off in a sudden cat nap and
my heart brims and breathing quickens,
blood flushes my face and
my brain vibrates with purpose
and for a moment I believe I might live a different life,
not a shadow, flitting across the walls of consciousness
but a fiery thing, alive and connected,
a beam of intention
fearful of nothing
imbuing all with a meaning I invent and
alive
to this overripe world.
and the leaves shake with stifled laughter from their bony branches
rustling softly and murmuring like huddled sisters,
sometimes if the moon is full and my eyes are drawn up from slate and concrete,
the brownstone skyline crouching under a velvet sky,
sometimes my sorrow nods off in a sudden cat nap and
my heart brims and breathing quickens,
blood flushes my face and
my brain vibrates with purpose
and for a moment I believe I might live a different life,
not a shadow, flitting across the walls of consciousness
but a fiery thing, alive and connected,
a beam of intention
fearful of nothing
imbuing all with a meaning I invent and
alive
to this overripe world.
BIG sigh...
Yay Dems! Hope is not lost. I am relieved more than anything. At least the damn of the disaster being wrought upon this country will be plugged. And if one dares to hope (which I do), perhaps good things can be accomplished. The "first 100 hours" is a start. Increasing the minimum wage (to a whopping $7.25 an hour - I can't believe there is opposition to this), allowing the gov. to negotiate Medicare prescription drug prices (another no-brainer, but anathema to big-business), eliminating some corporate subsidies for the OIL industry. Good God. Not exactly a progressive agenda, more like a massive clean-up after a child's temper-tantrum! But this is where we are now. Clean-up first, then real change.
Oh, and can I just give a big thanks to Karl Rove, whose constant cynicism and open hostility to the american people served us very well in this election.
Oh, and can I just give a big thanks to Karl Rove, whose constant cynicism and open hostility to the american people served us very well in this election.
Tuesday, November 07, 2006
Election Day
I dread the machinations of the Rove. He scares the bejeezus out of me and seemed so confident that the Republicans would win both houses tomorrow (well, today, officially.) If that happens my faith in this country will be shattered.
What monster of certainty
has beset these men?
What lack of vision?
What dearth of light?
What longing for death?
A Rapture of delight
in all that can be beaten
subdued or silenced.
Demanding life-blood,
action,
Something more than prose
to quell the thirst for
More.
More oil
More money
More walls of hate
More names for “other”
More land to rape
A quiet fury has been planted
deep roots have taken hold
Beware the ones
Who lack conviction
They shall be made bold.
Vote as if your lives were depending on it people! Because they are.
I must sleep. Sleep perchance to dream.
What monster of certainty
has beset these men?
What lack of vision?
What dearth of light?
What longing for death?
A Rapture of delight
in all that can be beaten
subdued or silenced.
Demanding life-blood,
action,
Something more than prose
to quell the thirst for
More.
More oil
More money
More walls of hate
More names for “other”
More land to rape
A quiet fury has been planted
deep roots have taken hold
Beware the ones
Who lack conviction
They shall be made bold.
Vote as if your lives were depending on it people! Because they are.
I must sleep. Sleep perchance to dream.
Day One
From silence to...blog? We shall see. This will be my meditation, my midnight dreaming, my silent screaming. A lark. A nightlight glow. A dance I think I know.
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