OUR BACK PAGES

We all have got a lot of work to do. Rebuilding. Reworking. Rethinking. This past year has been insane, scary, freakish, eternal, revelatory in ways sometimes joyous and other times dismaying. Our world has changed. My world, your world, their world, our world. It is a small world, after all, and it is full of mischief, madness, and magic. As I begin to consider the world post Covid, I am thrilled and a bit terrified. What will be the same? What will be different? How have I changed? As a writer, I am more than a little curious to see how all of this past year will inform our literature, our art, our films and tv series and plays and musicals. How it will affect our relationships with each other. Our sense of mortality. Of science. Of politics. Of what is truly worthwhile and what is just a waste of our very limited time on this great spinning orb flying through space at great velocity.

I think our whole financial system, healthcare system, news industry, the arts- all of the systems we have had in place- have been held up to the sun for further inspection. And I think we need to fix a lot of it. I think the shortcomings of American capitalism were made pretty clear. I think Andrew Yang's idea of universal income, which came off as quaint and a bit nutty, now seems like a good idea. I think universal healthcare is something we have to have, right now and forever. I think a system that had so very many billionaires get richer during a global pandemic is a system that needs to be thrown out or reconfigured. 

Maybe it's time for our whole economic way of thinking to go the way of the DoDo. I've said it before, but I always loved how in the Star Trek Universe, they figured out that money was not a good thing, hindered us as a species, and had to go. 

As for the politics of this last year, I think a lot of people let their uglier, more selfish side come out, like a army of Mister and Mrs. Hydes, running amok, acting like spoiled violent children with no regard for anyone or anything. I don't know how that will all turn out, but I have several friends who I now think of differently. Sad but true. Some of the stupid and cruel shit that's been done this past year will be hard to get over and to forgive. Especially when most of those folks are still acting out. I had hoped after the sacking of the Capitol that there would be a moment of self reflection. A moment where everyone woke up and put aside their childish ways.

Then again, that's sort of like hoping after the Tate-LaBianca murders that the Manson Family woke up an said "Charlie was wrong! We shouldn't do this kind of thing".

So yeah, the world got a bit more messed up.

But while some chose a dark path, others stood up to the challenge, and wowed us all with kindness and courage and determination. Some friends became heroes.

In a way, it was like this past year required everyone to take a stand, make a choice on how they interact with the world.

As for me, I think the main change is a lack of ability to put up with bullshit. Or as much as I used to. I think we all need to be tolerant, kind, and open to other people's ideas. I still think that. But some ideas are just fucked up and stupid. Pretty much any idea that is cool with endangering others is out. Same with any idea that endorses political violence. Or denial of science..

Also, I need to write more. And keep on doing this blog. And spend more time with friends and family. 

I really appreciate time with people more. 

I can't go to a concert. And a movie. And a play. To teach a class without having to wear a mask. 

But before that can happen, there is work to be done, on a global, national, state, city, and personal level. 

Wow. Sort of pontificating today. Ah well. 

Here's a song. It's My Back Pages with an all star band.

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WHEN BEING STRONG WITH THE FORCE ISN'T ENOUGH

So one of the things I get to do in this life is teach children. Mostly theatre, but also speech and debate these days. I love it. There is something really nice about hanging out with kids and trying to help them figure out this world we all share. And I seem to be good at it. I think maybe I get that from my mother, who was an amazing teacher for elementary students. She had this way of connecting with and inspiring her students that was magic. I don't know how you can teach people to do what she did. I think there are of course many excellent ideas about teaching, courses to take on the basics. But there is also that X factor that you either have or do not have.

 It's sort of like having the Force be strong with you.

I think I got a little bit of that from her. 

So yesterday, it was the final day of a section on speech and debate I was doing with this one class. the section consisted of doing a daily salutation to each other, where each kid got up in front of the class, greeted everyone, said their name, and shared a quote. The quote could be anything they wanted, a song lyric, a line from a movie, something they overheard, and so on. Often, is the quote was interesting (and they almost always were) we'd discuss the meaning, if they believed the quote, and so on. Then we'd move on to working on short speeches, and then group debate.

It's a really fun unit.

The group debates this time were Netflix vs. Prime Video; and the pros and cons of having a dog.  We had done the individual speeches last week, and this day was all about the debates. We would do our daily salutation, then prep for the debate, and see what happened. 

When I got to class, one of the brightest of this group was sitting apart from the group, looking decidedly sad. One of her friends was sitting with her, trying in vain to cheer her up. I let her skip her quote, as it was pretty clear she was truly upset. This kid was an excellent speaker, very smart, and had been looking forward to speaking on behalf of the upside of having a dog. She was a proud dog lover, and told me every class a bit about her dog, how fantastic he was, how funny, how awesome.

So as the kids began prep for the debate, I walked over and asked her if everything was ok.

She stoically shook her head and handed me a note.

It read "I can't talk today. My dog died."

Sometimes, even when the Force is strong with you, there is nothing you can do to take away the pain in this world. 

I told here the things you tell people when they lose someone they love. How lucky her dog was to have her in his life. How it wasn't fair. How I wished I could make it not be so. How I was sure her dog was playing in a grand field, happy and free, and would always watch over her. 

I tried to be honest and supportive. I told her she could skip the debate, sit in another room, do whatever she wanted. She didn't speak in the debate, but she bravely stayed in the classroom. And somehow, managed to smile once or twice.

I think we all need to be like that. Things are hard right now. Terribly hard. There is so much sorrow and anger and madness running rampant. So much anxiety. 

We need to let our sadness out. Let each other know how we feel, in whatever way we can. And we need to be brave, and love each other.

May the Force Be with Us. Everyone.

Here's a song. It's Interstellar Love by The Avalanches.

SNOW FALLING ON BIGFOOT ON MARS

It's snowing here in Denver. I always take snow as a sign to write, for a multitude of reasons. First, and most likely foremost (but that is up for debate, as my mind is a maelstrom of reasons and memory, songs and quote, movie clips and fantasies.  Be that as it may, and regardless of what is indeed foremost in my brain today) the snow speaks to me and says "keep writing" because I find snow magic and rare due to growing up in San Jose, CA. I've written about this a lot, and my latest screenplay is all about that, among other things. 

Also, one of my great mentors who has gone on to other lands lives in the snow, speaks to me through the snow, and repeats his last words to me, which were "keep writing". 

On top of that, at the end of It's a Wonderful Life, which has been my go to movie since I was in fifth grade and happened upon it one afternoon all by my lonesome and was completely swept away, when George Bailey finally wants his life back, he goes to the bridge where he tried to end it all, and starts to cry, and pleads for his life back. And it starts to snow. And that to me was a sign of providence. Of mercy. 

Also, snow is cool.

So snow tells me to write, and I obey. 

I write everyday anyway, pretty much. Although this past year has been strange in patterns and schedules and life in general. Even so, in this past year of global pandemic; massive protests against racial injustice; economic fear; selling the house I grew up in and dealing with all the ghosts that come with such an endeavor; an election that seemed to last forever culminating in the sacking of the Capitol by a bunch of seemingly brainless zealots- even with all that, snow gives me a sense of magic possibility. Of hope. 

Today, I think I will work on one of my Bigfoot projects, a storyline that was born as an alternate to what we ended up going with for a feature I worked on. 

Yes, I said feature. Sounds pretentious. But it's a fact, and I got to join the WGA because of said project, and I am rather proud of that. So there it is. A feature I worked on. 

Anyhow, I have this other idea in my maelstrom, and it would like to come out and play. 

And some jack ass in Oklahoma is trying to pass a law making it legal to hunt Bigfoot. Which really pisses me off. (click HERE for an article about it)

So Bigfoot needs some love. So peace. Some understanding. 

And a guy who finds snow magic to write about him.

Of course, Bigfoot is not a singular male person. It's a species. They are all over the world, if you believe the shows on Discovery, History, Travel Channel, and so on.

I do. 

I think Bigfeet travel between worlds, and appear to inspire us. To restore our sense of wonder and mystery. 

I wonder, when we start to colonize Mars and other planets, if the universe will provide us with mythological, cryptozoological beasts on our new worlds. 

I hope so. 

I think we need a bit of magical thinking, a bit of life to remain unexplained. 

And I'd much rather believe in Bigfoot than the Big Lie that led the zealots to the Capitol.

Also, if believing in Bigfoot ever leads me to think it's a good thing to storm a building and try and kill people, I will rethink my belief system.

Here's a song. It's I Believe by R.E.M.

BLUE MONDAY TRUE MONDAY THAT'S MY FUN DAY MY I DON'T HAVE TO RUN DAY

I had a ton of vivid dreams last night. One of them took place in the 1980s, when I was in high school. The song Blue Monday featured prominently. Sadly, I can't tell you much more, because I had so many dreams, and they were all so vivid, they kind of cancelled each other out, and I am left with this strange mish-mash memory of them all. It didn't help that my dog Padfoot kept waking me up and needing to go out. Usually, he has one trip outside a night. Last night he went out four times. I kid you not. Four damn times. And just to pee. And each time he woke me up, I was in the middle of yet another vivid dream. And all of them were positive. I do remember that. They were those dreams that when you start to awaken you wish could keep on going. 

Still, the dreams put me in a good mood. And so, in honor of Blue Monday and songs of the 1980s, on my way to get tested for Covid, I put on U2's War, and listened to the whole thing. It was one of the first albums that I listened to over and over and over, and it always brings me back to those days, that time when the world was classes and friends and music and the Impala and driving over the hill to Santa Cruz and the Dollar Movie and Young Life and Swim Team and Scouts and no clue about where I was heading and not really caring all that much. A time when most nights I'd end up at Carrow's with Tom and Brian, going over the events of the day. 

Those vivid times are jumbled up in my mind now too. And they have an excellent soundtrack. 

One thing I can't stand about movies set in any section of the past that I have lived in is how often they get the songs wrong. They play top ten hits, but no deep cuts. No rarities. Just the hits. Not that some of the hits don't belong. If I was going to make a movie about my high school years it would certainly feature Blue Monday, I Will Follow, and Video Killed the Radio Star. But it would also include a ton of Dead Kennedys, Angry Samoans, and songs by Madness beside Our House. 

I do wish I had all my old records. LPs, EPs, and 45s. I think most of them are long gone. The few that are left are sitting in a storage unit in San Jose, and once my mom's house sells, I'll go get them. Not that I want to be one of those who only play the songs from their past. That is out. In fact, in my first play, Last Call, I had a group of friends who would only go to this one bar, and only play the songs from high school on the juke box. Over and over. To the point where the songs lost all meaning and resonance and became barriers to thought and expression and joy. 

So I don't want to do that. 

But I do like to listen to the old stuff now and then. 

And I did  back when I was in high school, too. I think if you limit yourself to any one thing, type of music, kind of film, and so on, you limit way too much. 

Sometimes, you need to expose yourself to the unexpected. To things that aren't part of your past, or determined to be something you might like by some algorithm. 

As Beckett wrote, habit is a great deadener. 

So here's to trying new things, to listening to old things, and to things in general. 

Here's a song. It's a cover of Blue Monday by Orkestra Obsolete.

THANKS, I NEEDED THAT

I think we all needed yesterday. I didn't realize how badly I needed to cry and laugh and cry some more. To hug my wife with joy. To dance in front of the TV. To cry yet again. To hear Amanda Gorman and see a star land on Earth. The whole thing, the inauguration, lifted up the nation, I think. It lifted up the world. Somehow, we dodged a bullet, and got through the last four years. 

Well, not somehow. We worked our asses off. We marched. We called our senators and representatives, over and over. We watched far too much MSNBC and CNN. We got into it on Facebook with our relatives and friends who bought into the Trump mythos. We took back the house in 2018. We kept on trying. 

And when the Pandemic came, we rose to the occasion as best we could, redoubled our efforts to change the minds of our friends who somehow bought into conspiracy theory after conspiracy theory. We read opinion pieces all the way through. We wore masks. We howled nightly. 

We did what we had to do. 

And we found strength we didn't know we had. Resolve hiding beneath our shockingly thin veneer. Some of us smoked a lot of weed. Or drank a lot of booze. Or wrote in a blog every damn day for months on end. We gave money to campaigns for the first time in our lives. And then gave more. We wrote postcards. We did whatever we had to do to make sure we could have a different President.

And we got the job done.

Yeah, we still have plenty of relatives and friends who think differently.

But not as many as we did before January 6. 

I think that sort of woke up some of them. How could it not? Still, far too many out there still buy the Big Lie. Still think the election was stolen from them. And we need to fix that.

But yesterday, for a brief moment, we were allowed to rejoice. To dance in the streets. To explode with glee like giddy children at fireworks over our nation's capitol. To say to ourselves "damn, that Katy Perry song is pretty awesome!" without a hint of irony. 

I want to feel like that more often. I want to be proud of humanity on a regular basis. I want to be lifted up, and I want to lift up others. I want to sing all day, and recite poetry, and dance.

I think we will need to keep our new found habits of staying involved. Of not letting a lie from a friend go without challenging it, in as respectful and courteous a way possible. 

We still have this pandemic. And global warming. And systemic racism. And income inequality. 

But we have the power to change this world. And don't ever let anyone tell you different. Those that say otherwise are usually either hoping to shut down said change, or they've given up and are ashamed of themselves, and rather than face that shame, they try to pull you down to their level.

Hell with that. 

We rise up. We sing. We marvel at music and kindness and love and unity and poetry. 

The toxins are leaving our souls. We are healing, and will continue to heal. 

And it will get better. I have no illusions there will be hard times ahead. And sorrow, and grief, and anger. I am certain I will write more entries about how fucked up the world can be, about how shallow and nasty people can be. How disappointing life can get. I have had enough hard times to know that. But they will pass. It all passes, eventually. 

Except love.

It is love that endures. 

I know it. I feel it in my bones. I think yesterday, we all felt it.

Here's a song. It's Katy Perry's Fireworks. 

WHAT A DIFFERENCE FOUR YEARS CAN MAKE

Four years ago, I was marching with a million plus people in DC.  We didn't break any windows, or kill any policeman. We simply wanted to make our voices heard. I think that's what you're supposed to do. Speak your truth, stand up to power, and not be crazy. It was a fantastic day, and made the idea of Trump as being charge a little easier to take. There was solidarity. Like minded individuals. Freedom and hope. 

I had just gotten my first screenwriting gig, and so was able to fly both Lisa and myself out there from Denver. We were both still in shock from that election, that horrible, strange election when the world seemed to turn upside down. Lisa knitted Pussy Hats, and off we went. 

I have never seen so many people in one place. I went to the first US Festival, lived in NYC for over a decade, saw Obama speak in 2008. Nothing compared to that crowd. 

Since then, we have seen so much. So many crazy, scary, maddening events. Charlottesville. George Floyd. A global pandemic. And most recently, the sacking of the Capitol. At times these past four years, I have felt like I was losing my mind. Or in the middle of one of those nightmares where you know you're dreaming but can't wake yourself up.

And then, today, I awoke.

I saw grace and glory and pride and respect front and center. 

I saw Kamala Harris, the first woman ever elected to national office, get sworn in as Vice President. I Lady Gaga and JLo sing songs of love and inspiration. I heard an amazing poet read a breathtaking piece. And I heard Joe Biden give the most happily received political speech in recent memory. 

I saw a new day dawn in the nation's imagination.

As some of you may know, I'm an Eagle Scout. I am a hippie, free thinking liberal commie pinko, but I am also a Boy Scout. I love the flag, American history, and this country. I got all three citizenship merit badges: Citizenship in the Community; Citizenship in the Nation; and Citizenship in the World. And I took them seriously. Sadly, Scouting these days has become politicized and is mostly influenced by the right wing of our world. But at least in my troop, back in the late 1970s and early 1980s, scouting was all about exploring the world, and figuring out your place in it. 

I have a deep love of democracy, inclusiveness, and the politics of the possible.

I was taught to try and be trustworthy, loyal, helpful, friendly, courteous, kind, obedient,  cheerful, thrifty, brave, clean, and reverent. I don't always manage to be all those things. But I try.

I don't think our last POTUS was any of those things. 

For those who voted for him, all I have to say is: Grab Them by the Pussy.

Lament your loss, but don't forget, he said that. And meant it. 

OK. Maybe that wasn't too friendly. Or courteous or kind. 

But to say I don't think he was and is a foul person with no moral fortitude would make me untrustworthy.

For today's song, I'm sharing a video I took of this woman who was at the Women's March. She was over 90 and a Quaker, and exuded strength and grace. Enjoy.

And as a bonus, here's Copeland's Lincoln Portrait

THE GRAND DELUSION

Sometimes, I am not sure if our current President knows he is lying anymore or if he believes what he is saying. I am fairly certain he knows he lost the election fair and square and is simply lying about it in desperate hope that somehow he can stay in the White House. I think he is one of those folks at ease with telling falsehoods on a continual basis, and who never admits to it. Ever. But now and then, I think he has enough screws loose in that addled brain to let him believe the myths he's made about himself.

It's not unheard of, and I've known people in my life who seem to believe equally in made up gobbly gook.

It must be so tiring to be around that guy. 

Well, after tomorrow, he will be far less in the public eye. And that is just fine with me. There are so many things we all have to content with, and I am certain that a world without a daily "what did he do now" will be much more productive. We have the Economy; Global Warming; the Pandemic; and all our own personal problems to fix. 

So, as far as Trump and his lies or delusions, good luck and good bye. But what about our friends and family who have bought those lies hook, line, and sinker? What do we do with people we care about who spout muddled conspiracy theories, reject reality, and won't listen to reason? Are they truly cult members, who need to be either given up as lost or rescued? And if it's the latter, how do we go about that? 

And what do we do with people we know, but aren't as close to, who also drank the Kool-Aid? What if there's that guy at work who you never liked all that much to begin with who insists the election was stolen and that Trump was the greatest? Do we just tell them to STFU? 

I think telling them off would be fun, but not very productive in the long run.

And after the sacking of the Capitol, the desire to be kind has lessened.

But I do think we have to find a way to communicate with the delusional. 

Don't get me wrong. Some folks are just racist assholes, and need to be told as such. Sadly, there is no shortage of nasty, cruel, selfish bigots. 

But all these people, those we love and those we can't stand, have bought the Big Lie. Do we just keep telling them the truth? I have heard that fact checking people who have bought into this bullshit actually dig in deeper when you do that. 

Which seems nuts to me. If someone points out, calmly and reasonably, with facts and figures, that I'm wrong about something, I may not like being wrong, but I certainly won't continue down that misguided path. 

Some folks just don't want to hear anything other than what they want to believe.

Long ago, there was a mini-series based on James Michner's book Centennial. I loved it. It was this epic tale of America. I watched it many times, thanks to our old VCR recording of it. Sally Kellerman played this woman who was forward thinking in the 1800s. She was in love with a Frenchmen played by Robert Conrad, who was best known to me as Agent Jim West on the TV show The Wild, Wild West.  At one point in the series, Kellerman's character was talking about Conrad's character and infidelity and putting up with people's bullshit, and she said "Sometimes, people believe what they want to believe". 

It shocked me. Not because it was an immoral stance, or foolish. But because it was true, and I knew it was true, and I hated that truth. 

I still hate it. 

And it's still true.

I have no moral today, no words of wisdom on how to deal with this. I just point it out, as it's something I am dealing with.

Here's a song. It's Journey's Don't Stop Believing, as used in the Sopranos finale. Enjoy.

 

LOVE AND POSSIBILITY

It's MLK day, and I'm home, contemplating the world, the nation, and life in general. I think about Doctor King, who to me is one of the great spiritual leaders in recent history, full of kindness, love, thoughtfulness, and strength. Qualities to aspire to, and to seek for in others, particularly our leaders in the here and now. I love it that we will soon have a senator who is the pastor at the church where MLK was once the pastor. There's a symmetry to that, a circle of life kind of feel, like it was meant to be in some way. And that gives me hope.

I'm a bit of a agnostic mystic, a believer in the unknown powers behind the veil, a seeker of truth. I see messages in history, logic in nature, and a sense of the eternal in my fellow human beings from time to time, usually when they are laughing or loving or making music or art.

Today, I start another round of daily blog entries. I did them at the beginning of this new era, and it helped me process what was happening. It also got my writing brain in shape. And in general, it made me feel good. Whenever I write on a consistent basis, I feel happier, more in tune with myself and the world, better prepared to face the day, and always more productive.

In the first batch of daily blog entries, I wrote several drafts of a new screenplay. From scratch. And I think it's pretty damn good.

Who knows what will come of  this round? 

So, I was thinking this morning how there is no going back to the way things were before. I think that is always true, in any time, but somehow I think we are all hoping that just this once we can have that be possible. Have it be that we can wake up and realize this was all just a very long, complicated dream, and that there was no global pandemic, that there was no sacking of the Capitol, that the entire way we view ourselves and our world didn't really change forever and ever amen. 

But such is not the case. We live in constant flux. Always have, always will. And that's a good thing, I believe. I have had times in my life that have been rough, and times that have been shockingly wonderful. But they all move along, blend together, become something else.

I think embracing change is necessary to live properly. Because, regardless of what we desire, change is relentless. 

So, embrace the change. Dance with it. Ride it like a wave, and see where it takes you.

Today, it's taking me to the Botanic Gardens, and maybe Indian food, and into a screenplay, a series outline, and a musical. 

And today, I hope it also leads me to love and acceptance and change of a positive nature, in the spirit of MLK. He lived in rough times. He dealt with way more than I have had to deal with. And yet, he exuded love and possibility. 

Here's a song. It's Sam Cooke singing Jesus Gave Me Water.

HOW TO LOSE FRIENDS AND INFLUENCE LUNATICS

I'm thinking a lot about how I can talk with people I know who don't think about the traitors in the same way as I do. Friends, family, co-workers. How can we engage in conversation after last week? For that matter, for this past year? These past four years? It's one thing to get in a spat with someone over what's better, Parks & Rec or The Office. Quite another to have a war of polite Facebook posts about comparing BLM to MAGA; the efficacy of wearing masks; defunding the police; tearing children from their parents and throwing them in cages; and my favorite, Satan worshipping cannibals.

Fuck it. 

When I write all those down, it seems clear. A good number of people have been fed a long line of horseshit by liars and thieves, taught to only listen to said liars and thieves, and now these newly zombie-fied former humans have taken to the streets, beat a cop to death with a fire extinguisher, endangered me and you and everyone they come into contact with by parading around maskless and defiant. What, besides reason, they are in defiance of, is not clear.

But the fuckery of it is.

I was going to write a blog about how to try and engage in constructive conversations.

But that time is not now.

Before talking reason, we have to stop dangerous behavior.

If I was on a plane, and some nut job stood up and proclaimed that he was free to open the escape hatch, and if others on the plane then pointed out we would die if he did that, and then he said "you do you, I'll do me", I wouldn't think about how not to hurt his feelings. I would kick him in the balls repeatedly until he was unconscious. 

There are a lot of metaphorical balls that need to get kicked right now.

Covid is real. People are still dying, in great numbers, especially here in the Untied States of Lunacy. Thousands a day. Every day. I want to get back to normal. I want to go to movies and theatre, to sing loudly in public with no mask. But to do that, we have to get through this pandemic first. And we are not through with it until we all get vaccinated.

If you disagree, please pull your head out of your ass now. You are misinformed and endangering yourself and everyone you come into contact with.

The election of over. Biden won. Just because the guy who lost says otherwise doesn't make it so. 

MAGA is bullshit. If you think the traitors who stormed the Capitol and killed a cop with a fire extinguisher had any good reason to do that, you are misled. Or also a traitor. Freedom is not anarchy, even if you are white and stupid. 

Trump is one part huckster, one part fanatic. Or what we call a "Fuckster". 

Also, global warming is real. The earth is round. 

Okay. Had to get that off my chest.

Also, why is it that those who tend to post variations of "Do your own research" really mean "please search the web until you find someone who is as deluded as I am"? 

I am trying to calm down. To figure out how to deal with people I know who voted for Trump and have now been silent about these Traitors.

Until then, I will continue to vent. This could go on for a while. 

I think I might just have to tell the truth and shame the devil. You know, the one we libtards worship while drinking baby blood.

Hail Satan.

Yes, I still believe in peace, love, and understanding. But I also believe in telling the truth, justice, and accountability.

I love you all, even if you are crazy, have sacrificed your morals on the altar of Q, and need help.

I just don't feel like being nice today.

Here's a song. It's Nazi Punks Fuck Off by the Dead Kennedys. Heard it the other day while watching Doom Patrol (which is awesome). 

 

WHAT NOW?

The hits keep coming, don't they? I am tired from the past few days. Feel like I've watched news non-stop for most of my life now. In the spring, which feels so far away, so not part of this reality anymore, I remember feeling a sense of dread every time I got a notification on my phone. What new horror was happening, I'd think. 

I feel that way again.

I think we are all still processing the events of this past week. Well, of this whole election. Of the past four plus years. There is something wrong going on here in the USA. More so than usual. If this were a Greek play, we'd be in the opening sequence, talking about how the Gods are angry, how there must be blood in the land, and sins to atone for before the bad times depart. 

It feels like the streets are full of Flat Earthers on steroids.

Or being at a party stuck with a slightly drunk fellow party goer who is hell bent on explaining to you their theory about what really happened at the end of Lost, and you just smoked a joint so it feels like every second is about an hour.

Or one of those dreams where you realize you are dreaming but can't make yourself wake up, even though the dream is horrifying.

Choose our poison.

We are being tested, daily. Our values, our thoughts, our hopes, our dreams... our priorities. Do we believe in science? Do we question authority? Do we look beyond the internet for reality? Is our society working properly? Do we really love our neighbors as ourselves? 

Do we have the courage needed to hold to our convictions?

I hope so. 

It just seems like everyone is choosing their path. Some people I know have become even more amazing, loving, kind, thoughtful, and inspiring. Others have gone to the dark side, if what they post online is to be believed. 

And a crowd of angry Americans stormed the capitol, and a few of them beat a man to death with a fire extinguisher. 

That is fucked up and sad.

So. What to do? I am not sure. But I do believe one hundred percent that this is the time to love this earth, this life, our fellow human beings, and all things great and small. This is a time we must listen to music, dance in the streets, smell the roses and the coffee, and celebrate being alive. 

If the world is ending, take it all in before it goes.

I plan on writing in this blog more. It helped me during the early phase of the virus, and it helps me now. If it helps you too, awesome. I will still keep watching the news. I will still get into spats on social media with folks who think differently from me. I will have good days and bad days. 

But I will go on. We all will. 

Glory, hallelujah, nameste.

Here's a song. It's a live version of Fleetwood Mac's Rhiannon.

IT'S GETTING HEAVY AND LIGHTER ALL AT ONCE

I wake up, and the world seems spiraling out of control. And I find life astonishingly beautiful and exciting. A new strain of the virus is here in Colorado and popping up all over the country and probably is everywhere already. And I am full of hope for the future. Bills pile up as I ponder the next big project to do on our house. Best of times hang with Worst of times. I alternate between episodes of The Big Bang Theory and Doom Patrol. Have I lost my mind? And if I did, is that necessarily a bad thing? Hard to say, authoritatively. I think avoiding authoriatatism is necessary is this Weimar Republic like time. Or is it this FDR/WPA time? Didn't those happen at the same interval? 

Today people are voting in Georgie, and who wins will determine who is in charge of the Senate. And this could have a lot of effect on how we as a nation deal with: The Corona Virus pandemic; Climate Change; the Ravaged Economy & ever growing Economic Divide; Systemic Racism; Immigration; and on and on and on. Also today, I am leaping into the New Year of Writing. Already got my morning pages done, read a full article in The Atlantic, and have work lined up for two projects: a musical and a screenplay. 

We live in a world where shit happens, good and bad, all the time. Maybe all those good and and bad things have accelerated a bit this past year, but it's always been like this, more or less. I mean, I don't think Dickens was making things up from some supposition about what might come to pass when he wrote the opening passage of Tale of Two Cities. Let's have that quote, shall we?

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way--in short, the period was so far like the present period that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only.

Yeah. That sums it up rather nicely, I think. I had to consider that last sentence a few times, but still, rather apt. I just am not one hundred percent sure I understand what being received in the superlative degree of comparison only means. If someone wants to leave a comment filling me in, groovy.

The duality of nature is something I have been hip to for a long time. Maybe growing up in an alcoholic household did that for me. I have always, to this very day, loved being alive. I do. This world is full of things that are mysterious and wondrous and numinous, and we should all dance in joy every time we awake for at least five consecutive minutes, speaking nothing but gibberish in odd tones. But I've also been keenly aware of sorrow, fear, and desperation. I awoke with that too, saw it in my mother's eyes each time my step-dad went past that invisible barrier to the world of lunacy, screaming, and smashing. It was part of the world that I danced for in my mind too. Not a nice part, but part of it nonetheless. 

Times are hard now. Times are always hard. And always miraculous. It might suck to live in this age of fear and loathing. We don't get to have family over for the holidays. I haven't seen a movie in a cinema for months and months. Theatre? Forget it. And yet, this is a time of history, or challenge, of thinking outside the box, making a name for yourself, rising to the occasion. Of taking the mantle of the Greatest Generation for ourselves, so that one day someone can write a book about us and make all our grandchildren feel vaguely inadequate. 

I am tired and energized. I am an electron, neutron, and proton. I am I, Don Quixote. 

And so are you.

Whatever happens today, in Georgie, in the over crowded hospitals, on the streets, I wish you joy and strength, knowledge and power, mischief and mayhem and law and order. 

Bring it, 2021.

Here's a song. It's Waiting for Superman by The Flaming Lips, live with the Colorado Symphony.