Weekly Writing Summary For The Week Ending 04/17/2025
Jack Gould: Untitled [mother and daughter at table, writing] (c. 1948)
We Prefer Homemade
Our small city has been hosting Town Hall events featuring our absent congressional representative because we're worried, and he seems uninterested or unable to facilitate a gathering to reassure us. Though we try, we don't really reassure each other when we gather. We show up, by which I mean we bring our natural diversity, as if we intended to annoy each other by displaying it. Only in a cult, where everybody's too terrified of being identified as different, do we gather without fear of disturbing each other. The usual sensitivities always come, as if to highlight our shared dilemma. We ache to be community, but we dare not insist upon conformity. E Pluribus Unim, as I said somewhere this week, insists we're from different root stock, not similar. The miracle of our form of government was never its ability to engender anything even distantly resembling efficiency. Its stated purpose was to promote apparently inefficient diversities to surprisingly produce more than the sum of their components. This strategy has worked for approaching two hundred and fifty years. The efficiency experts lack the calculus to reduce this possibility into anything resembling a satisfying formula. As I also said somewhere this writing week, those who pay to play cannot understand those who would never pay for or play with any of the freedoms we enjoy. We're freeloaders where freedom's concerned. To purchase it defiles it. We prefer homemade.
Desperation
Francisco José de Goya y Lucientes:
Fool’s Folly, from Disparates (1816–19, published 1877)
"He was never primed to contribute what success always requires."
The unmistakable scent of Desperation accompanies every proclamation and every action initiated by this goofy administration. It's as if they know everybody's already on to them. They persist, perhaps bravely, failing to achieve even a threshold of believability. They have not managed to convince themselves. They cling together around their largely absurdist stories like proverbial rats clinging to flotsam, and hardly even deserving that hackneyed old allegory to describe their condition. They present as pitiful, yet they still seem to produce fruitful disruption. As the courts start kicking in, their explanations become even more fantastical. We knew they weren't serious from the outset, with their assault on decency and efficiency, neither of which parsed to anything other than fantasy: abuse, fraud, and waste. Their “savings” cost more than they saved. Their police for their police state seems comical, cosplay goons performing administrative errors. International incidents initiated by middle-of-the-night tirades: the usual.
The more paranoid point out that they follow a plan, published in paperback form, so the rest of us can follow along.
Crumbling
William Blake: Thy Sons and Daughters Were Eating and Drinking Wine (The Book of Job),
Alternate Title: Job's Sons and Daughters Overwhelmed by Satan (1821)
"The incumbent will richly deserve his comeuppance."
A hundred days into our incumbent's second term, it's difficult for me not to feel as though I'm stuck somewhere in the Book of Job. You will remember Job as the unfortunate believer whose life inexplicably turns to shit as if he had been a sinner. True belief in anything doesn't immunize anyone from very much of anything. Some things happen regardless of anyone's faithfulness. Other things might occur due to misplaced belief. Belief in false premises or misleading promises can contribute to reversing fortunes, but belief itself can't independently be ascribed as cause. Other factors must intrude to produce results. In our case, our incumbent's abysmal second-term results seem easily ascribable to our incumbent himself. Whatever evil playbook he might have tried to follow, his performance so far shows him incapable of following any playbook. Investors have begun to publicly speculate that he's insane. Former supporters have started moving further away as he's again demonstrated his incompetence in practice.
As I've noted before, our economy was the world's envy a short hundred days ago.
Contemptible
Jean Audran: Minachting [Contempt] (1727)
"Such behavior transcends explanation and excuse."
Our incumbent was never careful. Oh, he took precautions, though even those seemed a little too loose or fast to ultimately evade detection. Most of his administration's business has been conducted on Signal®, an insecure and illegal platform upon which to conduct official business. Even in small things, he chooses lawlessness. He thumbs his nose at convention and decency with equal contempt. I'm unsurprised, then, that the sum of his efforts amounts to Contemptible. He holds decency in contempt as easily as he seems to revere evil. He seems to have been built backward from most people. He can't help but carry what most hold as internal out on his shoulders. He continually shares way too much information. He parses his world with a rusty potato peeler. He skins convention alive. It should be no surprise that he managed to prove himself Contemptible in the eyes of his sole Court of Last Resort, one he struggled, in his last administration, to stack with unfit judges owing him. They suddenly owe him no longer.
It's quite an accomplishment to offend people you paid to be your friend, but even paid-for justices have their limits.
CopingTactics
Ferdinand Olivier: Coping-stone (1823)
"I'd rather be crazy on my terms …"
Most people seem incapable of mustering a coping strategy, for we do not live all that strategically. We exist episodically, hoping against hope that we will somehow cope with even the more extraordinary stresses our times expose us to. I might insist that I've never seen a time like this, but I've survived stressful times before. Those times sure seemed dire at the time, and only in retrospect do they seem tame by any comparison. They terrified me to what I then understood to be my core. I didn't know beforehand if I could cope with those tensions and stresses. The tenacious unknowingness of those times caused the bulk of the damage. Others were more wounded than I, though it was not in any way a credit to anything I necessarily contributed. I proved fortunate under those circumstances, though I felt anything but lucky at the time. One never knows or, certainly, I never seemed to know at any point. Later, perhaps through speculation, I sometimes made sense of such experiences, though I suspect my stories about those times better qualify as fiction than accurate reportage. I chalk them up to one of my more prominent CopingTactics.
I write my cares away, though writing more often amplifies my cares than mollifies them.
Wealth_
Jan Luyken:
Man met de wereld in zijn armen laat kostbaarheden vallen
[Man with the world in his arms drops valuables] (1710)
"I will then settle in to become dirt myself."
April brings recovery. The messes accumulated over the receding winter demand attention, and rediscovery accompanies that attention. It always takes me some time to get started again, for engaging quickly becomes obligation. There will be scant respite until at least November. What begins as preliminary weeding blooms into mowing, planting, watering, fertilizing, and ongoing weeding. Some reconfiguring always intrudes, too, as something will have degraded since the prior growing season. This is a reminding time, for each April, I rediscover my Wealth, the single sure accumulated asset I will ever truly steward. I can't possibly own it, for it belongs more to the ages than it could ever belong to anybody. It represents my tacit legacy. Properly prepared so no inheritor will ever know precisely what they receive, though each might well find reason to revere me come future Aprils.
I measure my Wealth in tilth, the soil quality in my garden.
MagicalThinking
Master of the Die: Psyche,
Thinking to Appear More Beautiful...,
Opens the Fateful Box (1530–1540)
"We never were merely externalities …"
Our billionaires inhabit a radically different universe than the rest of us, for they exist without consequences. I might reasonably believe their existence must prove much more consequential if only because they command vast resources. In that narrowest sense, I might consent, but commanding vast resources says little about success. It might be that few things more reliably exceed than excess, but this says nothing about effectiveness. It's little or nothing to purchase something with one-hundredth of one percent of one's resources. The significance, however otherwise magnificent, tends to get lost in rounding on those sorts of transactions. A working man might struggle for a decade to finally save a downpayment for a modest home he'll never ultimately pay for. Still, he will have really accomplished something monumental in so doing. The lowly billionaire could buy and sell him ten thousand times without diminishing his wealth by a comparative dime, yet never once experienced success in the way that workingman does. Nor could they experience consequences because the workman risks everything to achieve his modest result, and the billionaire risks essentially nothing.
It's much more and different from idolatry to worship our billionaires' successes.
Weekly Writing Summary For The Week Ending 04/10/2025
Francesco Bartolozzi: April [Aprile] (18th century)
Attempting To Go It Alone
Following George McGovern's presidential campaign, self-described 'gonzo journalist' Hunter S. Thompson published a collection of his Rolling Stone campaign dispatches into a book titled Fear and Loathing On The Campaign Trail '72. I cut my teeth on Thompson's writing. For years, I carted around my Rolling Stones collection as one of my most prized possessions. Even with Richard Nixon involved, what constituted Fear and Loathing in 1972 would hardly spark a disinterested retch today. Our current incumbent's shenanigans have reset the bar for fear and loathing. Our closest neighbor now considers the United States to be a rogue state, the source of illegal guns, drugs, and every manner of contraband, rather than a trusted ally. We offer them lax border security.
I can't seem to help feeling as though my reputation has also been tarnished, even though I in no way supported any of this clown's initiatives.
Smugness
Ewald Dülberg: Self-Portrait (1917)
" … he sure seems clueless about how transparently he exposes his inner urges."
Woe be the leader without competent advisors. Those who go it alone and serve as their own coach have the fewest resources from which to draw. They must make much of it up, and nobody's imagination proves bottomless enough to adequately serve that need. Worse, though, comes when said leader considers themselves the smartest person in every room, for even if this belief were true, it would provide little benefit. Life is no more an IQ test than in is a race. Those who compete, especially those who compete with themselves, lose the most. Those for whom each decision becomes a competition probably have nothing left to lose. Our incumbent seems to suffer from these conditions. On those occasions when he listens to someone, he more often acts upon his misunderstanding of what they'd intended to advise. He usually swipes some notion out of context and then claims it is his original before swelling with a curious Smugness. It's a genuinely infuriating habit, an authentic abuse of power.
I suppose we each profoundly misunderstand the world in our own unique ways.
Weakman
Unknown Artist: Man of Sorrows (1465/70)
ABOUT THIS ARTWORK
Images such as the Man of Sorrows were intended to shock the beholder into repentance. The pristine condition, and even survival, of this hand-colored woodcut is primarily due to its having been pasted-like many early devotional woodcuts-within a protective book cover. This unique impression was discovered amidst the rubble during the bombardment of London in 1945.
"Good riddance to another so deluded he couldn't recognize his own weaknesses when they manifested."
——
Our incumbent fancies himself a strongman on the order of a mafia don. The most curious attribute of such strength might be how it reeks of weakness. It seems primarily defensive in nature, often co-optive, as it intends to do unto others before they have the chance of doing it undo them. These amount to preemptive retributions, a speculative getting even for something that hasn't really happened yet. In this manner, the self-proclaimed strongman exists as a Weakman instead, for the surest signs of weaknesses accompany the unselfconscious use of force as if it represented power. The truly powerful have little to show off, for their strength lies mostly in reserve, unperturbed by day-to-day existence. They live in peace, with deep respect for the absolute calamity that would have occurred had a Weakman been in charge. The weak might speak of law and order, but their rhetoric, carried to action, encourages righteous lawlessness, producing deeply defensive disorder.
The Weakman sees the world as zero-sum contentions sorted into clear winners and obvious losers.
Insanity
Adolph von Menzel:
Studies in the Insane Asylum (1844)
"We never know how to respond congruently."
Ordinarily, politics entails differences of opinion. It's different than this in the case of our current incumbent. There, realities seem to conflict. He and his minions deny the existence of verifiable conditions and assert the existence of clearly delusional ones. He exercises uninformed power. He primarily exercises non-existent powers. He proclaims stuff that could never be objectively excused as in any way related to truths. He holds convictions that only the more deluded conspiracy theorists ever seem convinced, then threatens and even exercises retribution against anyone disagreeing or, to use his words, "defying" him. Since when has a difference of opinion warranted such a response in this country that first championed freedom of speech, religion, and political conviction? Disagreement doesn't constitute a crime here. We have long revered dissent as one of the purest forms of patriotism, indeed nothing deserving any form of political retribution.
We teeter on an edge more perilous than mere politics.
WhollyUnlawful
Jean François Janinet: M. de Lafayette Arrests a Man for the Unlawful Hanging of a Thief (24 May 1790)
Book Title: Gravures Historiques des principaux événements depuis l'ouverture des Etats
[Historical Engravings of the main events since the opening of the States]
(1789?)
"Keep our Constitution out of the bedroom and the … board room out of our legislature … "
The Baby Boom Generation might have been the most scofflaw in history so far. We tended to obey the laws we agreed with and ignored those we didn't. Much of the difficulty might be reasonably assigned to a series of absolutely ridiculous laws, which, in my humbled opinion, attempted to legislate a particular morality, one not even a plurality of the polity ever really agreed to obey. We are much more pious publically than privately. We try to keep our immoralities off the front page of the papers. We figure it's nobody's business if we choose to smoke marijuana in the privacy of our home, even if, to enjoy that illegal liberty, we have to financially support the ever-burgeoning drug smuggling and distribution industry and all the greater sins that entails. We didn't imagine ourselves criminals but principled dissenters, the post-modern equivalent of Minute Men protesting against The Stamp Act. A whole array of such infractions riddled our modern society. Ever more, it seemed, as the more conservative came to dominate domestic politics. It should have been no surprise that Women's Rights were the most frequently, profoundly, and unjustly affected.
Eventually, one didn't need to smoke weed or develop an inflated sense of the personal rights bestowed by the Second Amendment to feel as though they righteously protested against a seemingly ever-more intrusive government.
TheBlues
Dodge Macknight: Blue Sky (19th-20th century)
"I had TheBlues so bad one time it turned my face into a permanent frown …"
Taj Mahal: "Cake Walk Into Town" from Recycling the Blues & Other Related Stuff
℗ 1972 Columbia Records, a division of Sony Music Entertainment
Released on: 1972-01-01
I live in such close proximity to ambiguity that it's a genuine wonder I can usually figure out what's happening around me. I can see out of The Villa's back second-story windows TheBlues rising to the east and south, the Blue Mountain foothills, that is. They represent a world of considerable wonder. In the summer, The Muse and I trundle up there to gather a sharp-scented local Black Current variation prized by The Nez Perce (Nimiipuu) tribe, TheBlues, comprising a significant portion of their homeland. In the spring, we enter seeking morels, a magical, almost mythical mushroom revered around here by both chefs and hillbillies. In winter, the snow crazy wend there way up into that country to ski, an activity that never made much sense to me, but God bless them, anyway. Last Fall, we stumbled upon a significant crop of wild huckleberries up there. Wildfires overran our favorite space during the teens; in our lifetime, it will never again be anything like it was. We still visit to reminisce and walk around in the remaining reassuring silence.
My ancestors crossed on The Oregon Trail, which passed a point I've not been able to locate, which they called The Top Of TheBlues.
InDEIcency
Hendrick Goltzius: Those who litigate must be shameless, patient and rich (1597)
Gallery Notes:
A litigating man (Litigator) walks up a staircase with two things in his hands and behind him three women carrying bags with the inscriptions 'Shamelessness', 'Patience' and 'Money' in Latin. Extensive caption in Dutch, German and Latin. This print is part of a series of eight prints about greed, deception and litigation.
——
" … we pride ourselves on being a decent people …"
Our current incumbent began waging a senseless war on decency from his first hour in office. He focused upon a modest-seeming target: recent attempts to codify decency into law. The overriding Law of Unintended Consequences might have gotten involved because quite a constituency had accreted around the idea that equality constituted an intolerable insult to the polity. They described it as Reverse Descrimination. From a zero-sum mindset, I suspect this logic might make close to perfect sense, for within that worldview, any gain by anyone else constitutes a loss for the home team. Consequently, they sense their historical and, therefore, sacred boundaries eroding. Further, such insistences become intolerable when any law commands that people treat everybody decently, for only some seem more deserving. Besides, the subtext screams that we were here first, so our rights and privileges must be superior, even though we don't believe we are in any way privileged.
The concept had been shorthanded into the label DEI, or Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion.
Weekly Writing Summary For The Week Ending 04/03/2025
Judith Rothschild: Untitled-
from Untitled portfolio of fifteen works by Judith Rothschild, Frank Bacher, and Sheri Martinelli (1946)
Why Should Any Of Us Be Any Different?
The turbulent end to this March and the even more turbulent beginning of April realized what had been prefacing since this incumbent took the oath he had no intention of fulfilling. The troubling story continues more or less unabated. When delusion got elected, our collective coping skills were called to kick in along with our harder-won hoping skills. Of course, this week also challenged our collective and individual abilities to hope, for the future looked progressively grimmer with each passing day. I continued writing, sharing my impressions. This morning, a neighbor stopped as she walked by out front, as I was saying goodbye to a visiting childhood friend, to report that she'd just survived a half-hour conversation with someone she felt sure was a Trumper. She was shocky. As I wrote this week, I reminded her that Rome wasn't undermined in a day. It wasn't built in a day, either. Little happens in a single day. However horrible events might seem on some of the more troubling days. Days decide nothing, though they can appear to undermine everything. That sense that all is lost must certainly be illusory. Even more illusory than that sense that our hope might be fruitless. I'm pleading for maintaing the quality of my experience at pretty much any cost, so I took some respite days and crawled around my yard preparing for Spring this week. Few things cannot be improved by crawling around a yard preparing for Spring. Spring comes regardless of our hopefulness to deliver reassurance not one of us was ever worthy of receiving. The Maribelle plum trees are blooming. The magenta ornamental crabapple is threatening to astound. Why should any of us be any different?
Power
Jan Asselijn: The Threatened Swan (c. 1650)
"Who went too far?"
Precisely because there's so very little to be gained, he engages in the game as if meant something. Sure, it's cruel; for some, that alone would constitute a more than adequate payoff. His thirst seems more of an unquenchable variety. His hunger was never once satisfied by merely consuming anything. Eating seems to sharpen his hunger, leaving him, if anything, even hungrier. He seems insatiable because he most likely is insatiable. Some mistake this for formidable, but it looks more like a vulnerability. He has no sense for enough. Adequacy evades his grasp. He demands excess in all things except moderation. Because he always goes big, he lacks strategic intent. He defaults rather than chooses. In the long run, he cannot conserve his resources. He believes himself all-powerful. This, of course, remains his greatest vulnerability.
Not everyone seems capable of wisely wielding Power.
Respite
Robert Capa: Wounded Loyalist Is Aided Behind The Lines, Spanish Civil War (1937)
" … must I remain on the ramparts as if my presence alone repels a disoriented and misguided aggressor?"
Even breaking news eventually grows old. The sense that my attention might be the only thing holding this increasingly fragile world together becomes self-destructive. Even though the battle, let alone any wider war, remains unfinished, my effectiveness diminishes. I realize it cannot be my calling to be always up to date with the latest developments. My media diet seems too anemic to maintain an adequate watch. I don't even subscribe to cable, and I cannot figure out how to access local television stations without The Muse's intervention. I get by with what I can stream, my local paper, which has a surprisingly effective editor, and the beleaguered NYTimes, my Washington Post sadly having recently disqualified itself. Much of what I can perceive from here appears to be feinting moves, stuff of little short or long-term consequence. It's helpful to understand that there is no master plan guiding these intrusions, and even if there were, those executing those plans seem incapable of following directions, even those painstakingly written with kindergarten crayons.
April came, dragging Spring behind her.
Forty-fourth
Harold Edgerton: Ouch! [Archery] (1934)
" … and I don’t think they can!"
I take a respite from my CHope series today to remember my remarkable daughter, born on this day forty-four years ago. She was not supposed to die before me, though she left me with occasionally overwhelming memories of her presence. I miss toodling into the Willamette Valley to spot newborn lambs with her. We were formidable lamb-lookers. I miss our long-searching conversations that always lead to revelations. My magic almost always worked with her. I won't forget our final conversation where she cried, revealing that the latest surgery had not relieved her symptoms or her often overwhelming pain. She fixed that herself in a meticulously planned and executed execution.
The searing superficiality of all our present incumbent engages with pales compared to a single genuinely significant life, like my darling daughter's.
Hubris
Anonymous, after print by Jean Veber: Schaduw van Paul Kruger hangt over het Franse leger tijdens de wapenschouw te Bétheny,
[Shadow of Paul Kruger hangs over the French army during the gun show in Bétheny] (1901)
Gallery Comment:
"This coat of arms of the French army was held on September 19, 1901 in Bétheny for Tsar Nicholas II. Paul Kruger was in Europe at the time, where he tried to recruit support for the struggle of the Boers in South Africa - especially from enemies of the United Kingdom, such as Russia and France. Print is part of a magazine with cartoons about the Second Boer War. With a three-line caption: Never has a cleaner army shown its strength more brilliantly… while such a clean use had to be made of it for the matter of law."
"They will exit on the same horse they rode in on."
Every civil society insists upon certain comportments. In Washington, DC, most government employees still wear formal business attire. It's unthinkable to go into the office in jeans. In Silicon Valley, a similarly enforced dress code focuses upon a more studiously casual style, just as religiously observed. There, it might be unthinkable not to go to the office in jeans. In the South, people still routinely address each other as "sir" and "madam," however backward that might seem. When I lived there, I quickly adapted to the local standard even though I'd previously thought myself too modern to so engage. I noticed the resulting gentility when people observed this practice and felt adequately cultured when I participated. Even though I'm re-ensconced back in the heathen north, I still observe this practice. It now seems like a matter of simple decency to me. If I had not been raised well, I managed to learn better.
There are likewise comportments that never seem to contribute anything positive.
WitchHunting
Jean Veber: Witches (1900)
"All accusations to the contrary qualify as WitchHunting."
Even wannabe dictators must learn to spend much of their time in denial, for they become a magnet attracting outrageous accusations. Not that most of them aren't true, but it just would not do to confess to what he's actually up to. Aspiring dictators must uphold certain standards, and truthfulness is, frankly, somebody else's purview. Truth and fiction must become indistinguishable, requiring at least daily denial. News conferences almost always feature the incumbent awkwardly admitting something by vehemently denying it. The assembled journalists and even the press secretary understand the ritual, and few even attempt to deliver a killer follow-up after their original question gets rudely blown off. The palpable fictional content of the denial hangs in the air for a while like smoke obscuring mirrors. He insists they've only uncovered another Witch Hunt, which everyone understands does nothing but confirm the absolute truth of the original statement.
It might help the eroding credibility if he could vary the terms he employs to describe the situation.
ChangingThePast
Mel Bochner: If the Color Changes [MB2042] (2001)
© Mel Bochner
"They toil to expunge themselves. Good riddance!"
Unable to positively change any future, repressive regimes quickly turn their attention to ChangingThePast. This amounts to an impossible objective, though the native impossibility of it won't halt or even meaningfully retard their effort, for outrunning an unsavory past seems imperative if the repressive regime is to gain any respectability. If they can whitewash history, they might stand a chance to reprogram memories. This could result in a sort of forced respectability that repressive regimes always seek. They want to be seen as in favor of mom and apple pie rather than bloody labor strife and Jim Crow Laws. If they are nothing, they are deep-down hypocrites. They desperately want to forget whatever might tarnish their reputation and, their reputation being less than reputable, requires some extraordinary reengineering. They focus on repressing books because they're an easy and reliable target. Not that many of their supporters read all that many books. They've always sown deep suspicions that readers are progressives. They slur other publications and their publishers. Suppose The New York Times publishes a highly-regarded series that turns into a book and a Netflix series tracing the real history of African Americans. In that case, everyone involved gets labeled as "woke." Pure public relations genius soon rebrands "woke" from meaning a form of insightful wisdom to meaning a means for demeaning white people. Wokeness becomes public enemy number one.
Repressive regimes seem uninterested in any distinction between truth and fiction.
Weekly Writing Summary For The Week Ending 03/27/2025
Kunisada Utagawa: Writing examination (1810 - 1830)
Just Trending Toward Something
If I'm witnessing a revolution, it certainly seems to be an awfully ham-handed one. I'm reminded of how a gorilla might go about disassembling something he doesn't understand. He resorts to muted brute force, not knowing what might cause the thing to open. He dents the case and ultimately gets defeated by tiny screws, the operation of which seems too subtle for him to comprehend. Almost every move has been thwarted by the courts. Appeals have likewise proven fruitless. Chaos has resulted. I won't argue that chaos doesn't produce its own effects, though they tend to be something other than structural. They might even create a more substantial structure than it attempted to threaten. As chilling as many of the initiatives have seemed, they sum to deeply superficial, perhaps because they're inspired by science fiction. They rely upon non-existent principles and properties. They profoundly misunderstand human nature.
PennyWisdom
Percy Billinghurst: The fool who sold wisdom. (1900)
"I wonder how our public purse might be influenced
if our billionaire benefactors had ever learned to play Find A Penny, Pick It Up."
The recent injection of multitudes of billionaires into positions affecting the public purse has provided an opportunity to understand better how the very wealthy relate to money. I, the son of parents who grew up through the Great Depression, inherited certain beliefs and practices regarding money. I believe that money is almost impossible to acquire. This belief encourages me to be stingy. I do not seek luxury. I prefer good enough over perfect. I understand that everything costs money and that, mostly, the amount of money stuff costs cannot be meaningfully reduced. Attempting to reduce the cost associated with basic living tends to increase that cost. Trying to eliminate that cost almost always creates catastrophe; the absence of such expenses produces genuine calamity that will cost multiples of whatever was supposed to be saved to recover. I try to be satisfied with what I have, understanding that it's always possible to spend a lot more without gaining an ounce of additional satisfaction. Get-rich-quick schemes tend to be the best way to get poorer quickly.
BIllionaires seem to believe that a penny not spent is a penny somehow liberated from a form of slavery.
Equivocal
Alfred Stieglitz: Equivalent, Spiritual America (1923)
"The reigning forces of darkness have no idea what they've inspired."
They lie so reflexively it remains impossible to see any shred of truth in their responses. They know that you know, too. It's as if they're chiding you, urging you to go ahead and try to get even. Impunity never imagined a better friend. And they're right for the moment. In that instant, there couldn't possibly be any leveling of that playing field. The whole game seems to belong to Simon Legree's team. The umpires are crooked. The fans, divided. Even the future of the game appears undecided. What was once considered The Great American Pastime no longer means anything to anybody. It's become a medium for domination to a few and the absolute symbol of subjugation to a fast-growing majority. This situation will turn, but not immediately, and certainly not without considerably more discomfort. Until then, the lies will continue unabated as if winning those little controversies mattered, and the liars will continue enjoying the only notoriety they will ever see. They're each set on a course toward infamy.
Philosophers might insist that every human action might as well be considered ambiguous.
Insecure
Attributed to Giuseppe Maria Crespi:
Woman Looking For Fleas (c. 1715)
" … the one true sign of their underlying cowardice!"
Security was never gonna be this administration that can't administer anything's strong suit. If loose lips did sink ships, we'd be down a few battle cruisers after only two months with "him" in office. Fortunately, most breaches go unnoticed by allies and enemies. The most damaging ones live on to become exemplars of an administration's performance, bloopers that lived on to become definingly infamous. The amateurs employed by this operation ensured a day like yesterday would eventually come around, where a group of senior officials engaged in top-secret government business on an insecure private network with an inadvertently invited journalist listening in. This arrangement violated more laws than it respected, though few doubt that what it represented has been a typical scenario since this incumbent took office. I know from a recent conversation with an old friend who works at the USDA that they, too, communicate via Signal, though that violates multiple communication preservation and security protocols. It should surprise nobody that this incumbent, who scoffs at almost everything, also routinely scoffs at security laws.
When confronted with the evidence of this egregious security breach, our new Secretary of Defense (SecDeaf) responded by screaming at the questioning reporter, thoughtfully channeling his emotional age as if anybody was likely to guess differently.
Extortion
James McNeill Whistler: The Strong Arm (1895)
"Congratulations, or something. Such are the wages Extortionists always earn."
Nothing better evidences the weakness of this new administration that can't seem to administer anything than that they resort to bullying instead of convincing. Honest politicians exercise the considerable art of forging such deals, persuading, horse-trading, and working for agreement with the implicit acknowledgment that whatever's decided won't hang together long without voluntary acceptance. Governing demands the consent of the governed, as every failed authoritarian can readily testify. They thought it might be somehow simpler to strong-arm their way toward acquiescence, and in the extremely short run, such tactics might even seem to succeed, but no allies get created when inflicting such decisions. Quite the opposite. With each so-called success, the number of detractors grows until no supporters are left. It matters how treaties emerge.
It feels no less terrifying to understand that the assault comes as a result of their weakness.
MessSitting
Jack Gould: Untitled [mess on floor of ruined apartment] (1955)
"I'm first coping with the underlying nature of the difficulty."
Last night, for the second night in a row, The Muse and I had been invited out to engage in another dialogue. Neither engagement was intended to fix anything, but each was more focused on better understanding the nature of the difficulties or what fixing might entail. We might have wondered what we'd gain from engaging in conversations while Rome burns, except our experience strongly suggested that failing to engage in precisely such conversations might be the leading cause of failures when attempting to extinguish fires. It's all too easy to run into the burning building armed with little more than the best intentions, only to discover some hidden nature of the fire after entering. Under the Measure Twice Before Cutting Rule, it's often proved better to engage in some aimless conversation before acting to resolve a situation, however urgent it seems. It might even be that the more urgent a response appears, the more necessary the preceding conversation. Improving focus or understanding might better target a response.
This always seems like wasted time.
CHope
Jules Bastien-Lepage: Mower Honing a Scythe (1878)
" … and to radiate enough hope to make however I cope feel worthwhile."
Over recent months, my MacBook Air started crashing each morning. Because I became a compulsive saver, I rarely lost anything in these crashes. They became annoying, usually happening at one of the more inconvenient times. I'd be rushing to finish posting my daily story when everything would freeze up, and I'd have to begin that familiar recovery routine. We all know how rebooting under such conditions seems to take a little longer than forever. I'd recover and then finish my business feeling persecuted rather than elated. On a recent trip to Portland, I resolved to buy a new MacBook. I'd diagnosed the crashing difficulty as being caused by insufficient memory. I'd learned that my current machine already has all the memory it can handle, so I reasoned that I needed a new machine. The Apple Store was its usual minimalist purgatory overrun with potential customers. I managed to catch the attention of a representative after spending fifteen or twenty minutes poking at sample display machines. I'd decided what I needed but quickly learned they didn't have what I wanted. I was advised I could order one online but cautioned that the low inventory probably meant some newer models were imminent. I left with a pocketful of complications, knowing that I would not run home and purchase a new machine online.
I started coping better with my situation instead.
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