I don't know about you, but I am probably the most dissociated I've ever been from political goings-on. It's not that I don't care, but it honestly feels like a switch in my brain went off the moment it looked like Drumpf was being taken seriously by people I know. We've got a primary to vote in this week in California, and it all feels surreal. What the hell and heck and shitfire is going on?
In lieu of something new, I thought I'd post something from nearly three years ago. It seems apt today, too, a reinforcement of that old adage that brings me comfort: there is nothing new under the sun.
Monday, October 7, 2013
The Stuff of Tragedy
When I drove by, I noticed a chorus of gods and goddesses outside of the Launderland Coin Laundry this morning, a couple of Renaissance men and a monk or two. They had come marching south, down Vermont Avenue, disgruntled by the dry air, the crackling wind, the voices discontent. Rich people lack empathy, a wise man noted. Not to mention their difficulty getting through the eye of a needle. David flexed his muscles, held on to his stone. Venus took her hand off her mons and flicked back her hair. Donuts were passed hand to hand. The cars rushed by, their inhabitants intent on misery.
Heroes. Victims. Gods and human beings. All throwing shapes, every one of them Convinced he's in the right, all of them glad To repeat themselves and their every last mistake No matter what. People so deep into Their own self-pity, self-pity buoys them up. People so staunch and true, they're fixated, Shining with self-regard like polished stones And their whole life spent admiring themselves For their own long-suffering. Licking their wounds And flashing them around like decorations. I hate it, I always hated it, and I am A part of it myself
-- the Chorus, from Seamus Heaney's The Cure at Troy, A Version of Sophocles' Philoctetes
I'm not sure how to absorb all the news these days or even attempt to. As I scrolled through it this morning, I couldn't help but lightly press my finger on the touch screen to read more of Pope Benedict's resignation plans. There's something so glamorous about something happening only once in 800 years. The first pope to resign was Marcellinus in 304. He was deposed after complying with a Roman emperor's order to offer sacrifice to pagan gods. Benedict IX sold his papacy in 1045 and resigned. Celestine V was evidently overwhelmed by the job and resigned after five months in 1294, and Gregory XII stepped down in 1415 to help end a church schism. My finger traced the tiny screen of my phone, scrolling down and I wondered idly (with irony) whether yesterday's news of Los Angeles Cardinal Mahoney's diverted cemetery funds was the straw that broke the proverbial camel's back for the spiritual leader of a billion of the planet's people. I imagined a courier running on the cobblestones of the Vatican, down the ornate hallways, through the room where man's finger touches God's and into the Pope's private quarters with the news. Maybe he just couldn't take it anymore.
Why are there so many phrases that use camels to impart wisdom? It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the Kingdom of God, is a Biblical phrase. Trust in God but tie your camel tight is a Persian proverb, and my favorite might be the Egyptian If you love, love the moon. If you steal, steal a camel.
I lifted my finger from the screen and closed my eyes. What has been will be again, what has been done will be done again; there is nothing new under the sun.
I stumbled upon this post last night that I wrote nearly two years ago. I laughed out loud -- I'll admit to it being pretty damn funny -- but also because it lends weight to a couple of phrases from my favorite book of the Bible, Ecclesiastes:
Vanity of vanities! All is vanity.
That which has been done is that which will bedone. So there is nothing new under the sun.
I'm still kvetching about seizures and stress, and I'm still bemoaning my weight and age. That one is more important than the other is beside the point.
All things are wearisome; Man is not able to tell it. The eye is not satisfied with seeing, nor is the ear filled with hearing.
I got my hair cut yesterday, and when I asked Henry to take my picture, he told me that I had to promise to actually post it. Here I am, vain as hell, looking for someone to photo-shop one inch off the sides of my face and restore the cheekbones that lie underneath. An upper lip would help, too, but leave the eyebrows.
In lieu of your kind comments and protestations of my "beauty" -- I know ya'll -- I'm going to ask you to regale me with stories of your own vanity. Let's have fun.
And I set my mind to know wisdom and folly; I realized that this, also, is striving after wind.Because in much wisdom there is much grief, and increasing knowledge results in increasing pain.
Remember that expression? I don't even remember who used it, but I'm leaning on it, today, Friday, the last day of the week before Election Day and the probable transfer of power from Democrats to Republicans in Congress. I read this interesting piece on Salon today and watched the video. Basically, it draws parallels between the Obama and Reagan presidencies, and the drubbing Reagan got in his first mid-term, due to a dismal economy.
What's interesting to me, though, is how nothing ever really changes in politics, and if there's any proof of the concept of maya, or illusion, well, politics is it.
Given the obscene amount of money spent on these elections (with California's gubernatorial race among, if not the, worst of them), I have near-religiously avoided watching any commercials or entered any debates about what's coming. I've read some ridiculously strident conservative blogs and refrained from commenting, and when anything about the Tea Party comes up, I listen politely and then go mainline some heroin. I still have confidence in President Obama, and despite feeling some disappointment and anger at the concessions he's made, I believe fervently that he is one of the few true intellectuals that we've ever had leading our country, in the line of Jackson, Lincoln, Jefferson, Adams and Wilson. And maybe it's just me, but I do feel more comfortable with someone espousing the intellect leading this great and complicated country of ours.
But given what's probably going to happen next week, I'm taking heart in history, in what is, perhaps, my philosophy of life --
Vanity of vanities, says the Preacher, vanity of vanities! All is vanity!
What does a man gain by all the toil at which he toils under the sun? A generation goes, and a generation comes, but the earth remains forever. The sun rises and the sun goes down, and hastens to the place where it rises. The wind blows to the south, and goes round to the north; and on its circuits the wind returns. All streams run to the sea, but the sea is not full; to the place where the streams flow there they flow again. All things are full of weariness; a man cannot utter it; the eye is not satisfied with seeing, and ear filled with hearing. What has been, is what will be, and what has been done is what will be done; and there is nothing new under the sun. ( Ecclesiastes 1:3-9 )
UPDATE: "IT'S THE ECONOMY, STUPID" from Wikipedia:
"It's the economy, stupid" was a phrase in American politics widely used during Bill Clinton's successful 1992 presidential campaign against George H. W. Bush. For a time, Bush was considered unbeatable because of foreign policy developments such as the end of the Cold War and the Persian Gulf War. The phrase, made popular by Clinton campaign strategist James Carville, refers to the notion that Clinton was a better choice because Bush had not adequately addressed the economy, which had recently undergone a recession.
Although the sign was intended for an internal audience of campaign workers, the phrase became something of a slogan for the Clinton election campaign. Clinton's campaign used therecession to successfully unseat George H.W. Bush. In March 1991, days after the ground invasion of Iraq, 90% of polled Americans approved of President Bush's job performance.[2]Later the next year, Americans' opinions had turned sharply; 64% of polled Americans disapproved of Bush's job performance in August 1992.[2]
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