MONDAY MORNING QUARTERBACK SAYING GET IT TOGETHER

I told everyone last Monday, and I don't think anybody listened. It's like we are in one of those monster movies where until we figure out the nature of the beast, it will keep on showing up night after night, killing people, wreaking havoc, causing our social roles to break down, until finally the last bunch of people, holed up in a cabin, suddenly figure it out, and some one say "Oh my God. It's us. Don't you see? The monster is us! It's our hatred and pride and greed and vanity, manifested in Gorgo!" The trope Lisa Simpson used at the end of one of the Treehouse of Terror episodes. The one that was a take off on the classic Twilight Zone "To Serve Man". 

I want to say this as clearly as I can. 

Killing people is bad. 

We need to stop this shit. 

If we want law and order, we need to have the laws be equally enforced. If we want order, we need to be orderly. 

And I am sorry if any Trump supporters read this and get offended, truly I am, but the POTUS is acting like a gigantic POS. I don't see him doing anything to help the current situation. Any of the current situation. Social unrest has grown exponentially under his administration. The pandemic has been handled horribly, in every possible way. The economy is like some bizarre magic trick, where the stock market soars while everyone I know is struggling to pay bills. And the environment? That will require a new paragraph.

When the lockdown happened, we were given a brief glimpse at the world without us actively trying to kill it. And it was spiritual, mystic, glorious, and instructive. Skies were clear. Oceans healthy. Animals seemed to appear from some other dimension and roams the world once more. And what did our countries leader do? Get rid of laws regulating air pollution. Try to start drilling in one of the last great preserves in our country. Try, in every way conceivable, to get us back on our planet killing habits. He's like that friend of the recovering alcoholic who keeps trying to get them to drink again. 

I know this might sound crazy to some, but I prefer a clean, healthy planet with happy people who don't shoot each other in the streets or terrorize people based on how they look over an economy that provides more money than can be spent in several lifetimes to a smaller and smaller group of people. 

If that makes me a hippie/communist/socialist/leftist, so be it. When I die, I don't want a ton of money. I want a world that sings joyously, with clean air and happy people. With law, order, peace, love, and understanding, justice, tolerance and harmony.

Here's a song. It's Laura Nyro singing her song And When I Die. 

SEEING AND FEELING AND SEARCHING FOR GLORY

And the beat goes on, the band begins to play, the world spins round, the tide comes in and out. On and on in this relentless motion. Events of late, of this year of madness, continue to do their thing. Another police shooting of a black man. Protests. A massive hurricane. More protests. A young man, encouraged by the rhetoric of our current President, drives to protest and kills two people, then walks past police as others scream "he just shot someone." And in that same week, ten thousand more people die from Covid here in the USA. And the RNC had a bunch of people rant and rave and tell us the Dems are socialists, the virus, the same one that kills an average of a thousand people a day, is over. WTF? And now, articles and pundits tell us that we better not let the shootings in Wisconsin play into the GOP's hands. 

How can that be? How can the blatant shooting of a man in the back seven times at point blank range be a good thing for Trump's chances? How can another shooting and killing if two protesters by a teen aged militia Trump supporter be bad for the Dems? What new madness is this? I would think that this would energize people even more. Under Trump, racial injustice seems to have exploded. Worse, he has shown absolutely no leadership skills. Yet again. Indeed, he seems to fan the flames, infuriating both sides, raising the level of violence and discord. 

The proof is right before our eyes, caught on video after video. What do we see, over and over? Shootings. People screaming. Fires. Anger and grief are running through the streets of our souls, and the President doesn't seem to care. If anything, he seems to kind of like it in this perverse "see, I told you so" kind of way, which comes off as wildly inaccurate and shockingly nasty. 

What we need, what we always need, is Love, Truth, and Justice.  And with those will come Peace. 

We have so much to do. All of us. We can't wait for heroes. We have to be heroic. We can't wait for a leader. We have to lead. We have to put our families, our country, our world over our selves. We have to stop killing each other. We have to stop killing the planet. We have to stop deadening our souls. 

We have to grow up. Evolve. Change.

We can and we will. 

If it seems like there is no hope, we will be the hope. If it seems like all the love has evaporated in the heat, we have to be the love. If it seems like the world is blind, deaf, and dumb, we have to be the eyes, ears, and voice that sees and hears the truth and speaks it to the powers that be. 

We must be the glory.

Here's a song. It's a two parter, because it's long. This is the finale from Ken Russell's movie of The Who's Tommy, which I first saw in fourth grade. It's awesome, weird, and I think ultimately uplifting. 

MONDAY IS HERE. DON'T BE SELFISH OR A DUMBASS

Monday morning. Got a good night's sleep. Had a weird dream, but it vaporized as the alarm rang. I remember thinking, as I often do when a dream gets interrupted, that I wanted to finish the dream before waking up. But I awoke, and left that plain of existence. It's back to school time here in Colorado. And of course, like everything else, it's completely different. One of the schools I work at has all these outdoor tents, and a plethora of health checks, safety precautions, and so on. As it should be. I am fine with being safe, and having to do things differently while this virus persists. Seems like the thing to do. I am on the side of doing something to be safer isn't an infringement on my rights, but rather common sense. 

Here's something annoying. I don't like to dwell on the negative, but it is Monday, and if there is ever a time to bitch, it's Monday morning. So here it is. I can't stand the joggers who run down the sidewalk with no mask, no inclination to move to the street when they see they are approaching pedestrians, and who clearly aren't carrying masks. WTF? How can you think that is okay? Is everyone of these obnoxious jogging enthusiasts under the impression that the virus is gone? That it's all over and this is all a plot by the baby eating left? It seems counter intuitive that a person who is obviously into their personal health doesn't want to do everything to keep their bodies healthy. I don't think you can do much jogging if you have Covid. If you are one of those folks who run down the sidewalk, maskless and refusing to move to the side when passing your fellow citizens on the same sidewalk, please make a choice: either be a dumbass, or selfish, but not both. To spell it out: if you opt for being a dumbass and insist on not wearing a mask while huffing, puffing, and sweating in public, don't tread the sidewalk. Stick to the road. If you insist on hogging the sidewalk, never swerving to the side as you pass or push through your fellow Americans, wear a damn mask. If you do both, I am going to start carrying bags of my dog's poop and hurl them at you every chance I can. I know, it might seem extreme, but desperate times call for desperate measures. 

Ugh. That was negative. Sorry. I think it's better to let those bad vibes out than to keep them inside, where they fester into bad ideas like taking Flat Earthers seriously. 

So, on to positive things. I've taken to watching David Lynch's daily weather reports on YouTube. They are amazing. Quirky, soothing, and there every day. If you want to check then out, go HERE. 

We are all still alive. We have the chance to do something good today. We can be kind. Strong. We can rise up to the challenges of the day, be it a jogger who got you angry, or a prolonged botched reaction and response to the virus, or the corporations who seem intent of making the planet uninhabitable. We can do things large and small, every day. We don't need permission from anyone. We don't need to be given permission to do the right thing. All we need to do is get up, back on our feet, and do the best we can do. 

Ok. Monday is here. School is back in session. The election is coming. Global warming is real. The world is round. Face masks and social distancing work. Being kind is good. Being selfish is counterproductive. Love is the way. The only way. 

Here is a song. It's Fooling Yourself by Styx. Long ago, I would listen to this when things were rough. It's cheese from the 1970s, but good cheese. 

SEPTEMBER'S COMING SOON, AND PINING FOR THE MOON

It's an R.E.M. kind of day. Take a walk, do some gardening, clean the house, and listen to Automatic for the People or Murmur or whatever floats your boat. I opted for Automatic and as Mister Stipe told me he would try not to breathe, I thought of the future, of what will be after all this is done. The fires and the protests and the election and the virus. Who will we be then? What will we have learned? How will it inform our decisions? I hope we listen to scientists more. Love more. Hug more. Appreciate being in a room with a friend more. I hope realize that if we think the virus is a drag, the coming environmental crisis is going to be like ten times worse. I hope we change. Evolve. Grow. That we don't exhume McCarthy. Rather, we channel the spirits of Roosevelt (Teddy or FDR, either will do) and Susan B. Anthony. We need to get our act together. We need to end our addiction to fossil fuels. We need to rethink our entire economic system. We need to grow the fuck up and take care of this beautiful planet. As far as I know, it's the only one we have. 

And if the aliens land, let's make them glad they did. 

I want to sit in a crowded movie theatre.

I want to go to a concert at Red Rocks.

I want to see some theatre in a packed house on opening night, when half the audience are friends and family and everyone goes crazy when the house lights fade.

I want to go to Disneyland. I know, they're corporate jerk offs. I cant' help it. I dig it.

I want this thing to be over. 

And I want everyone to be well. To be healthy and alive. And unafraid.

So I pay attention to what is happening. I walk the neighborhood. I say hello to strangers. I read as many different news sources as I can online. But I really don't need any newspaper or show to tell me things are messed up. The sky is thick with smoke. Everyone looks anxious. And after that brief bit of time during the lockdown when we got to see nature unbridled, I am certain we need to the world to be like that all the time. I have had enough traffic jams, ozone alerts, oil spills, extinctions, ice cap meltings, thank you very much.

I made my way through Automatic, Green, and a bit or Monster. It was sublime. 

Here's a song. It's You Are the Everything by R.E.M., natch. 

GETTING THROUGH THE LONG NIGHT

Remember when the biggest thing everyone on social media was freaking out about was the last season of Game of Thrones? Ah, for those heady days. Seems like another lifetime. And yet, there were hints at things to come in that. A rage against things not turning out the way we envisioned them. A denial of what was happening. A belief that if we just got enough people to jump on board, we could rewrite what had transpired and pretend that the last season didn't happen. Within the story there were foreshadows of things to come as well. An army of darkness marching forth to kill us all. Political intrigue. Betrayals. Indifferent, cruel leaders with extreme lack of sympathy for their people. A world where a few people try to tell the rest that there is trouble brewing, that the Night King was on his way. That we had to prepare. And most people ignoring these unpleasant predictions. Worrying about money and their fair share of it. Worrying about this ephemeral thing called power. 

We watched the scene from episode three this morning on YouTube, the one where Arya takes out the Night King. For me, that was one of the best, most exciting, unexpected moments in the series. And yet it totally fit. Here's this young woman who had been through the worst things imaginable, from watching her father getting his head chopped off to slavery, using all her experiences, to rise up and take out this nasty evil blue dude who seems intent on killing the world. I know some people wanted the classic hero versus hero fight of Jon Snow going one on one with the Night King in an epic sword fight. But not me. I watched Game of Thrones because it didn't follow the tropes, doing the same old thing we've all seen time and time again. I loved having the world saved by a young woman at the last moment. I love hope springing up from unexpected places. I love the forgotten finding strength. I love moments that feel true, not contrived to please what the fans want. Not that there's anything wrong with those kinds of stories. They exists for a reason. They just don't feed my soul. 

Watching that scene again this morning I felt like we are all Arya. We've all seen terrible things these past few months. Months that feel like years. We've seen a strange new threat pop up out of nowhere, in a distant land, grow exponentially. We've seen friends and family laid to waste. As of today, in less than a year, over 175,000 people have died here in America. Worldwide, we are closing in on 800,000. That's more than the population of Denver. On top of that, we live in a country divided, angry, and lost. For months now, protests have raged in city after city over systemic racism. On top of that, the world is on fire. Here in Colorado, the sky is a sickly brown. Everything stinks of smoke and disaster. In California, the size of the fires is greater than the state of Rhode Island.  We are being put to the test in ways we haven't been since World War II. Put bluntly, we have seen some serious shit.

Like Arya, we have to overcome our rage, our woes, and our grief. We have to remember who we are and what's important. We have to let go of the past, find our souls, and in the darkest moment, leap up to strike down hate and ignorance. 

And we will. 

We will speak truth to power. We will not deny what is happening to our world. Covid, global warming, racism, economic inequality- they all have to go. And we are the chosen ones to do this monumental, seemingly insurmountable task. It will take sacrifice. And courage. And hope. And Love. 

But we shall overcome. 

When the Night King grabs us by the throat, and all seems lost, we will find the strength to do what must be done. 

What do we say to the God of Death?

Not today.

Here's the scene I was talking about. 

THE THING WITH FEATHERS WAS ON TV 4 NIGHTS THIS WEEK

Hope is the thing with feathers

That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.

I’ve heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.

Emily Dickinson wrote that long ago, before any of us were around to fret and freak and deal with the world as it now is. Of course, she dealt with the Civil War, life before modern medicine, and never heard the Beatles, so she did know a thing or two about despair. And yet she wrote this beautiful poem.  Because it was true. Because that was how she saw things. Because, even though the world is often run by a bunch of selfish, stupid assholes, there is still the possibility for grace, for joy, for love in a weak and weary world. 

And I felt hope last night, watching Joe Biden give his acceptance speech. I felt joy the last four nights, listening to people with great spirit and conviction speak to our aspirations, to our loss, to our determination. I felt pride in humanity. There is still some goodness in us. All of us. Even the Orange One, I suspect, deep down in that damaged, wounded soul, has the faint glimmer of goodness. 

We have been through the wringer of late. Pain, fear, anger, sorrow. We've had the shit kicked out of us over and over. But we keep getting up, like Chumbawamba. We rise. We do whatever it takes. And we will get through this. We will have to deal with those who see things differently. With those who have listened to the crazy for too long. The Kool Aid drinkers, the Luddites, the Cranky Pants who try to convince themselves and whomever reads their FB posts that Hillary eats babies. 

Bring it on. 

I find too much of this world delightful to give up. Ever. There is sorrow and regret, but there is also love and laughter and music and The Beatles. And The Stones. And Nature. And Theatre. And Art. And Family. And Romance. And Dance. And Stars at night that form half remembered constellations. 

And Hope. 

We have two options. Lay down and fade away, or stand up and dance 'til the dawn. 

I have put on my boogie shoes. 

Let's do this. 

And for the love of God, VOTE!!!!!!!!

Here's a song. It's I Get Knocked Down by Chumbawamba.

SURF'S UP

Couldn't sleep much last night. Combination of mind spinning, dog barking, and my back giving me guff. Beyond that, I think there is some crazy energy vibrating across the universe right now. I don't think it is positive or negative in the classic good guy bad guy sense. I think it's just change, movement, worlds turning, dimensions opening, and so forth. Sometimes I think we are like those things in the original Dark 

Crystal movie, where the two different sides of what seems like and epic and very long war merge and become one. Or like when Captain Kirk got teleported and split in two, and then rejoined his two halves at the end of the episode. Or like a butterfly when it's in its chrysalis, morphing in this celestial goo. That's it. We are in some sort of cosmic, transformative goo, and all the unrest, the pandemic, the protests, the fires, are the result. Or maybe the goo is the result of those events. Either way, there is a lot of morphing going on. And lots of the word "or" in this paragraph. 

Had a really weird dream the other night. I was being attacked by owls. I was running up this picturesque hill to this lovely house, like something you'd see in a Lifetime Network movie, when all of a sudden, all these owls attacked. They were shredding with their razor sharp claws, and it did not feel good. So I did what any reasonable person would do. I called Amazon's customer service line. The operator told me the best thing to do would be to stick a needle into my. Cross my heart, hope to die. I didn't think this was a good idea. The owls kept on shredding me. I pulled out a needle, which I just happened to have in my pocket, and weighted my options. Needle in eye, or claws in  body. This was the crux of the dream. 

Like I said. Crazy energy. 

Been watching the DNC. I like it. Some of it is a bit corny. Some of the speakers a bit flat in their delivery. But I don't see any radical ideas. I see a bunch of people who seem to also acknowledge the crazy energy. We are in need of some kind of way to deal with this. Either we harness it, learn how to ride it, or get eaten by it. I like the ride it option. I used to body surf when I was growing up in California. We'd go to Santa Cruz, or Natural Bridges State Park, or Capitola, or some other beach on the Monterey Bay, and swim in those cold waters. And we'd body surf. You swim out, spot a wave, swim in front with just the right timing so that when the wave crests, you are in front of it, and then ride it. It's a wild feeling. Free and insane and joyous. But if you try to go against the wave, it would toss you about like a twig, send you under and over and out of control And you learned just how powerful the ocean is. It feels like a lot of us are trying to work against the Crazy Energy right now. And yes, I have given it capital letters like a proper noun. Why not? We all feel it. This particular time is a being, a thing, a god of old that has risen to perform its function, which seems to be kicking the shit out of all our suppositions. It might have a name, but if it does, I don't think we are allowed to say it. 

I think the tide of this Crazy Energy has come in and out a few times. I do not know when it will move on. All I know is, we all need to swim out into the cold water, spot our wave, and ride it. 

Here's a song. It's Crazy Rhythms, by the Feelies, in honor of our nameless god.