Reverie Christmas

Strange Christmas. Now that it's past --mere minutes left in Christmas Day-- I recognize how strange it was.

Yesterday, Christmas Eve, I spent alone in my house. It's hard to get invited to a Christmas Eve gathering, Christmas Eve is for families, and I wouldn't have accepted an invitation anyway, I wanted to be alone and see how I handled it. Third Christmas alone. The first two were not good, this one was a delight. And very odd.

Somewhere into the evening I had a memory of a Christmas past, a very splendid memory. --What I noted as the evening continued on was that I continued to have such memories. They would come unbidden, sometimes for a moment, sometimes for minutes, and they were keenly vivid, images of past times and past joy. Intermittently I did feel some sadness, but the emotions most often were those of remembered affections-- and those remembered affections were more real than the present.

That's gone now, the end of Christmas Day. Apparently there was some odd mental function that brought back the past in memory so clearly that it was present. There was no struggle toward that past, it merely appeared, and it was my life....

But, as I say, it's gone now. It doesn't hurt to recognize that at one time that past was not memory.

I do think this will be my last such Christmas. I think reverie can be real only once.

Maundering

Since I find it impossible to take much interest in our present politics (uncertainty, dread and distaste, is not interest), but since I want to post, I've decided to put down a note from my journal:

-------When I woke from my little nap I felt sad and thought that my life is pointless. Well, my life is pointless. But then it occurred to me that there doesn't have to be much of a point for there to be a point, there just has to be something. The more important thing is to avoid self-absorption, and most significantly, to avoid selfishness. The personality that avoids selfishness simply can't long remain deeply unhappy --or at least, in avoiding selfishness, will not be drawn further into unhappiness. I'm certain this is true, and in this respect my orientation and aspirations are wholesome.

But then it occurred to me: What if the personality is dominated by selfishness? Will it be further drawn into selfishness? the argument being that to satisfy a corruption the corruption must ever become greater? --Actually, why do I speculate about this? I know the answer: There's a force in corruption that ever moves toward greater corruption. The personality that has lost the specific countervailing moral aspiration is a personality doomed.

But note:
The countervailing moral structure must always be there, it's simply the way we're made; but in a personality given over to a deformity, the countervailing moral expression will be a hypocrisy, and a very self-satisfied one at that, proportionate in its assertion to its failure in fact. The great hypocrite is greatly sincere. The need to countervail against an evil impulse is universal, and it will succeed in one way or another; but the wholesome personality struggles against what is indeed an evil, while the deformational personality simply separates the evil impulse from the good and finds both very well satisfied indeed, thank you...

This strikes me as true. It would explain how a morally wretched personality can appear to be a quite happy one. Self-satisfaction is a moment of happiness, at least during the commission of either the selfishness or the hypocrisy. But it doesn't strike me that this can be a quiet personality. It seems to me there would have to be a constant struggle for some narrow advantage on the one hand, and fundamentally, simultaneously a boasting of compassion and fine feeling and personal sacrifice on the other.

And so much for tonight's wisdom.

Note: I'm arguing that hypocrisy is the fulfillment of an internal need, not merely a satisfaction of a social demand.

Obama Poem

This is a poem by the youthful Obama, with my interpretation, sent as a comment to The American Thinker.


Underground


Under water grottos, caverns

Filled with apes

That eat figs.

Stepping on the figs

That the apes

Eat, they crunch.

The apes howl, bare

Their fangs, dance,

Tumble in the

Rushing water,

Musty, wet pelts

Glistening in the blue.


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Comment: Dec 20, 02:52 AM

The Obama poem isn't bad.

First note that though the beginning line speaks of "Under water grottos..." the poem isn't titled "Under Water", it's titled "Underground". The obvious title isn't chosen, which suggests an intended complexity. "Under water" can simply mean "out of sight", but "Underground" is associated with particular types: spies, terrorists, criminals. And note that while ordinary people can live in "grottos, caverns" in these grottos these particular "out-of-sight" people are described as apes. Perhaps Obama doesn't like them.

These apes both eat figs and step on figs; that is, they both devour and destroy. Criminals, especially political, are commonly described as those who devour and destroy.

And note that in "stepping" on these "figs" (the little people) there's a deliciousness to it, there's a pause to note "they crunch". And in that pleasure the apes "howl, bare / Their fangs, dance, / Tumble in the / Rushing water". These guys really enjoy hurting people.

And note that "Rushing water" suggests not the sea, but a river, one that might flow through a city, much like the Chicago the young Obama later came to know.

Finally, what is the end of this devouring, destruction and celebration? It's "Musty, wet pelts / Glistening in the blue." Now, "wet pelts" from rushing water can not be "musty"; but consider "pelt" as "pelf", that is "ill gotten gain, booty." Then it makes a lot of sense: a political mobster makes money (not respected by the poet, thus "musty"), which he flashes about, "Glistening". This ill-gotten money glistens in the "blue", which might suggest the blue haze of something like a Speakeasy.

Give the guy a break. This is a good poem. He would have made a far better poet than he's going to make a President.

Go Blago!

So, Illinois Gov. Rod Blagojevich has been arrested and released, something about bribes and trying to sell a Senate seat. Some people are saying nasty things, some people seem to be saying that he is not a very nice person. Heavens! He's from Chicago! When one is from Chicago one is bathed in radiance and in the white light of healing grace.

I will not hear it said that this is not so!!! The One is from Chicago, and he shall heal the planet. The Gov, though perhaps not quite so extraordinary, in that he is from Chicago also, shall heal as well... like, how about Illinois politics in general and Cook County in particular? He can do it, I know, I have faith; just give him some time.

I do like his options. The Dems want another Dem to fill the now very vacant chair of the One Who Ascends --all they need is a vote, any body will do-- but if Blag doesn't appoint, there might be a Special Election, and if a Special Election, maybe a Repub. Harry wouldn't like that.

But Blag has power now --no future, but power. He can sit on the appointment, he can sit on his Governorship, he can veto legislation, ignore legislation --he can appoint himself Senator anytime he wants... and it seems to me he's got a ride for at least two years.

And it seems he has a story to tell. White Knight Blagojevich! It seems to me that if he put his mind to it he could cleanup Chicago politics once and forever. This I know to be true. Faith! Those from Chicago are pure. Let them acorns fall where they may.