I have always felt that the problem with the message of the legend of Damocles is that really we all live our lives under the threat of violence, misfortune, and tragedy. It is not only those who are well off or in positions of authority. It is absurd to think that at any time during or after the period of this legend there has been a higher mortality rate/lower life expectancy among rulers than the average person in the area.
So instead of complaining or devising clever ways to make his courtiers look stupid, you'd think Dionysius, would just enjoy the things he had while he waited to be assassinated. Though maybe terrorizing his court was the way he did this, in which case, good for him, I suppose.
As I sit in my own palace this week, with the sharpened point of rejection hanging directly above my heart, I should apply the lesson of my own critique and not feel sorry for myself but recognize that really all my fellow beings are in something like the same scenario, and the way to expunge my dread is to course with them, shoulder to shoulder, on life's road.
But that is not what I am going to do. I am going to spend a lot of time in silent thought, remembering the times this has happened before. The feelings of those events will return to me, and I will chew on nothing as the bitter taste refills my mouth. I will draw sharp, rapid breaths as the crushing feeling returns to my chest. Pavlovian responses to the ringing bell of "I think we need to talk..."
Wednesday, June 19, 2013
Monday, June 3, 2013
What was to be a b'ar in them thar hills
I went back to the office late last Wednesday night, mostly because I had a call with a colleague in Italy, but I had let myself get pretty far behind on some other projects as well, and I didn't end up leaving until about 2 am on Thursday. As I was about halfway home, something darted out of the tree line on my right about 100 to 150 yards up the road. In no time, it was halfway across the road then disappeared into the bushes on the other side before I could get level with it to stop and get a closer look. But the image burned in my mind is the large black bear halfway through the road illuminated by my headlights.
It was one of the most awesome experiences in my life. The combination of the shock of the unexpected and the surprising speed it displayed contributed to the initial excitement, but the significance of it has been growing for me.
The bear ran across the street about here. If you zoom out a bit, you notice that where it was running to (the north) is full of trees and largely uninhabited, but to the south is practically a subdivision. It is not clear to me what the bear was doing there, but I suspect either he was comparing house prices and wishing he had bought a few months ago when interest rates were lower or HE WAS DOING WHATEVER HE WANTED BECAUSE HE IS A BEAR!
This bear has become a hero of mine. Life is not what it should have been for him. Not long ago his family was roaming these woods and mountains at their leisure; kings of all they surveyed. The only time they had to run in those days was when they wanted to catch up with some fast food. Now, if he wants to pursue game a little further south than usual he has to book it for all he is worth across a hard smelly surface just to avoid some nerd in a Prius.
But the bear does not let these inconveniences, indignities, or dangers impede his life. He charges through them with power and grace, and I wish him the best of luck. I am back in my office at too early of an hour trying to get a head start on monthly reporting, but mostly I think I wanted another shot at seeing my friend sprinting through his town.
I would like him to come visit me closer to home so I can observe him again (hopefully through the safety of my windows) but there is a family of deer that lives near my house and spends a lot of their time in the Fall in my yard or on my street. I enjoy it when I have to stop my car until they decide that they are ready to move out of my way. It is inspiring to watch them up close and feel a little connected with nature, but now I worry about them meeting my bear.
If they could put aside their differences, I think they would have a lot to learn from each other about living amongst the humans, and I for one would love to see more of him ambling about the neighborhood, eating our berries, and digging up roots. But the deer, cats, dogs, and toddlers in the area might look more appetizing.
So, I am torn. I want to see more of him, but I'm not sure there is a setting where we would both be comfortable and our activities would be mutually beneficial. So, maybe I should just be grateful that I had that moment where I was privileged to observe him at the peak of his physical prowess and should stop looking for reasons to come into the office at 2 am.
It was one of the most awesome experiences in my life. The combination of the shock of the unexpected and the surprising speed it displayed contributed to the initial excitement, but the significance of it has been growing for me.
The bear ran across the street about here. If you zoom out a bit, you notice that where it was running to (the north) is full of trees and largely uninhabited, but to the south is practically a subdivision. It is not clear to me what the bear was doing there, but I suspect either he was comparing house prices and wishing he had bought a few months ago when interest rates were lower or HE WAS DOING WHATEVER HE WANTED BECAUSE HE IS A BEAR!
This bear has become a hero of mine. Life is not what it should have been for him. Not long ago his family was roaming these woods and mountains at their leisure; kings of all they surveyed. The only time they had to run in those days was when they wanted to catch up with some fast food. Now, if he wants to pursue game a little further south than usual he has to book it for all he is worth across a hard smelly surface just to avoid some nerd in a Prius.
But the bear does not let these inconveniences, indignities, or dangers impede his life. He charges through them with power and grace, and I wish him the best of luck. I am back in my office at too early of an hour trying to get a head start on monthly reporting, but mostly I think I wanted another shot at seeing my friend sprinting through his town.
I would like him to come visit me closer to home so I can observe him again (hopefully through the safety of my windows) but there is a family of deer that lives near my house and spends a lot of their time in the Fall in my yard or on my street. I enjoy it when I have to stop my car until they decide that they are ready to move out of my way. It is inspiring to watch them up close and feel a little connected with nature, but now I worry about them meeting my bear.
If they could put aside their differences, I think they would have a lot to learn from each other about living amongst the humans, and I for one would love to see more of him ambling about the neighborhood, eating our berries, and digging up roots. But the deer, cats, dogs, and toddlers in the area might look more appetizing.
So, I am torn. I want to see more of him, but I'm not sure there is a setting where we would both be comfortable and our activities would be mutually beneficial. So, maybe I should just be grateful that I had that moment where I was privileged to observe him at the peak of his physical prowess and should stop looking for reasons to come into the office at 2 am.
Tuesday, May 28, 2013
What was to be a chosen adventure
Choose Your Own Adventure books were a big part of my 2nd and 3rd grade school reading experience, and sometimes I miss this infuriating and recursive genre. So in case you feel the same:
You sit alone in your office, flipping through jewels pictured in a game on your phone so they would line up and disappear. Time runs out on this level: game over. You look up at the absence of any client in sight. Maybe they all lined up too well and disappeared like the jewels. The phone vibrates to alert you to a new email from the property management company. Rent is four months late now, times run out: game over.
Call the bank for a loan
Start selling your office furniture on Craigslist
Rob a liquor store
You sit alone in your office, flipping through jewels pictured in a game on your phone so they would line up and disappear. Time runs out on this level: game over. You look up at the absence of any client in sight. Maybe they all lined up too well and disappeared like the jewels. The phone vibrates to alert you to a new email from the property management company. Rent is four months late now, times run out: game over.
Call the bank for a loan
Start selling your office furniture on Craigslist
Rob a liquor store
Saturday, May 25, 2013
What was to be improved
I am not really comfortable acting in positions of authority. It doesn't seem to fit my temperament. However, these positions must exist for the stable and efficient caretaking of any social or physical structure, and as we gain experience and stewardships in this life it is incumbent upon us to graciously accept new responsibilities and challenges. So it is that on some Saturday mornings, I don the ceremonial denim and cotton and make the pilgrimage to the temples of home improvement to perform the rituals of home ownership.
The priests who officiate in these temples are friendly and helpful enough, but as any expert in their field they would much rather speak at length with skilled and experienced practitioners. It becomes apparent that they quickly tire of repeating the simple liturgies to the neophytes and our puzzled expressions annoy them when they have finished communicating the most basic of principles.
I miss the days when I would follow my dad into these massive structures, where he would navigate the maze of relics; select the exact items, their quantity and measurements, and all that was expected of me was to do some lifting and eat the ice cream purchased on the way home. Don't get me wrong, the ice cream is still purchased, it is just no longer consumed with the same ignorant peacefulness enjoyed by those who are not thinking about how to replace small parts of a spigot. Or if that person at the Home Depot had just made up the word 'spigot' in hopes of getting other people to think I was using some racially insensitive term.
The priests who officiate in these temples are friendly and helpful enough, but as any expert in their field they would much rather speak at length with skilled and experienced practitioners. It becomes apparent that they quickly tire of repeating the simple liturgies to the neophytes and our puzzled expressions annoy them when they have finished communicating the most basic of principles.
I miss the days when I would follow my dad into these massive structures, where he would navigate the maze of relics; select the exact items, their quantity and measurements, and all that was expected of me was to do some lifting and eat the ice cream purchased on the way home. Don't get me wrong, the ice cream is still purchased, it is just no longer consumed with the same ignorant peacefulness enjoyed by those who are not thinking about how to replace small parts of a spigot. Or if that person at the Home Depot had just made up the word 'spigot' in hopes of getting other people to think I was using some racially insensitive term.
Monday, May 6, 2013
What was to be abstract
I understand that painting is a difficult art form to master, and can take years of training and practice before one can produce a significant piece; however, that is no excuse for taking shortcuts and cheating. I am, of course, speaking of abstract art. Abstract art is cheating.
Instead of the artist owning the responsibility to decide on an image and then painting the image so everyone can recognize it, they just put any old mixture of paint on the canvas, throw it out to the public and say, "Here you go, figure it out, feel however you want about it, just give me a million dollars."
From time to time though, I cannot help but fall into a feelings trap with certain pieces. For example, I had never heard of Zao Wou-ki until I read his obituary a few weeks ago. There was a link to some of his work and the piece below trapped me. I've spent what adds up to hours staring at it over the last few weeks and just when I think I'm done, there is a perspective shift and there is a whole new painting pulling me in. It is calming, haunting, hopeful, and sad (like an old Disney movie).
But, it is still cheating. And Zao should be ashamed of himself for not painting horses or old boats or something.
25.06.86
Instead of the artist owning the responsibility to decide on an image and then painting the image so everyone can recognize it, they just put any old mixture of paint on the canvas, throw it out to the public and say, "Here you go, figure it out, feel however you want about it, just give me a million dollars."
From time to time though, I cannot help but fall into a feelings trap with certain pieces. For example, I had never heard of Zao Wou-ki until I read his obituary a few weeks ago. There was a link to some of his work and the piece below trapped me. I've spent what adds up to hours staring at it over the last few weeks and just when I think I'm done, there is a perspective shift and there is a whole new painting pulling me in. It is calming, haunting, hopeful, and sad (like an old Disney movie).
But, it is still cheating. And Zao should be ashamed of himself for not painting horses or old boats or something.
25.06.86
Monday, April 8, 2013
What was to be Thatched
Something in me has always identified very strongly with England. Whether it is the spelling of my name ("Geoffrey"), or rooting for a power that seeks to wield an influence disproportionate with its size and weight. I also wonder if it is because, as a country, we are a people without a past. We have some pretty clear lines to the goings on here in the 17th and 18th centuries, but we have no medieval stories for ourselves, so I have to borrow from my European ancestors.
Personally, I stick with England back through about the 11th century, about then I switch my allegiance over to the Norse side of things, mostly because I have a greater affinity for their gods. I try to honor the old ways in as far as it is convenient and doesn't anger my newer Christian God, so I will schedule things for Odin's day, Thor's day, and Freya's, day; keep a hammer in my car in case of Ragnarok; and I make it a point to cheat and abuse giants whenever possible (for me this is anyone over 6'2".
But I don't see the current Nordic countries as the continuation of my people. I follow Rollo to Robert I to William the Conqueror and then I stick with England through the revolution. But getting back to my first point, part of my heart is still with the old country especially when it comes to heroic figures and achievements. And so today I mourn the death and celebrate the achievements of Margaret Thatcher.
Personally, I stick with England back through about the 11th century, about then I switch my allegiance over to the Norse side of things, mostly because I have a greater affinity for their gods. I try to honor the old ways in as far as it is convenient and doesn't anger my newer Christian God, so I will schedule things for Odin's day, Thor's day, and Freya's, day; keep a hammer in my car in case of Ragnarok; and I make it a point to cheat and abuse giants whenever possible (for me this is anyone over 6'2".
But I don't see the current Nordic countries as the continuation of my people. I follow Rollo to Robert I to William the Conqueror and then I stick with England through the revolution. But getting back to my first point, part of my heart is still with the old country especially when it comes to heroic figures and achievements. And so today I mourn the death and celebrate the achievements of Margaret Thatcher.
Friday, April 5, 2013
Wast was to be a time to share
Today a cold chill covered my body as I realized the horrible truth; our celebrities are powerless to stop the violence between Israel and Palestine. Somehow the Israeli and Palestinian leaders are able to ignore the heartfelt pleas of the world’s most beautiful and melodic people. What they have done to impervious themselves from their siren song of peace we may never know. What we do know is that we must now look around and find a new hero to bring tranquility to the mid-east. The movie stars and music artists have done all they can and now we must look to an older, more powerful pantheon: the principles of the free market.
A brief history of the Middle East will be helpful in understanding what needs to happen next. I paraphrase the eminent historian David Barry who described the history of the Middle East, “A long time ago dinosaurs lived in the middle east. They died and were covered by sand and people who hated each other.” The principle problem is that there is a finite amount of land (including Jerusalem, the West Bank, and one of the few remaining Hardees) and two peoples who can’t agree on how, or whether, it should be divided between them.
The free market solved this sort of problem years ago. When thousands of the members of the American middle class were warring with the resort conglomerates for control of condos and duplexes, the market stretched forth its invisible hand introduced the Time Share. Time Share technology utilizes a flux capacitor to allow many different individuals to use the exact same piece of property during THE SAME YEAR!
This technology would be perfect for solving this land dispute in Jerusalem. For 15 days a year for the first 3 years and 20 days a year for each subsequent year, the Israelis will have Jerusalem during which time the Palestinians will have access to the West Bank. The rest of the year their time can be divided between Boca Raton, Las Vegas, and Vermont. Or they can use their points for cruises, flights, or pilgrimages to Mecca.
The plan will no doubt be complex and a hard sell, but the agents who sell these things are the toughest negotiators on the planet. These are people who have secured 50 year commitments from 80 year-old grandmothers on fixed incomes. This will not come without sacrifice. For months, American phones will stay silent during dinner time as every available telemarketer will be drafted into service with their auto-dialers concentrated on the holy land. But peace always comes with a price; a price that will probably be around 9,599 to get in and reasonable membership fees afterwards.
A brief history of the Middle East will be helpful in understanding what needs to happen next. I paraphrase the eminent historian David Barry who described the history of the Middle East, “A long time ago dinosaurs lived in the middle east. They died and were covered by sand and people who hated each other.” The principle problem is that there is a finite amount of land (including Jerusalem, the West Bank, and one of the few remaining Hardees) and two peoples who can’t agree on how, or whether, it should be divided between them.
The free market solved this sort of problem years ago. When thousands of the members of the American middle class were warring with the resort conglomerates for control of condos and duplexes, the market stretched forth its invisible hand introduced the Time Share. Time Share technology utilizes a flux capacitor to allow many different individuals to use the exact same piece of property during THE SAME YEAR!
This technology would be perfect for solving this land dispute in Jerusalem. For 15 days a year for the first 3 years and 20 days a year for each subsequent year, the Israelis will have Jerusalem during which time the Palestinians will have access to the West Bank. The rest of the year their time can be divided between Boca Raton, Las Vegas, and Vermont. Or they can use their points for cruises, flights, or pilgrimages to Mecca.
The plan will no doubt be complex and a hard sell, but the agents who sell these things are the toughest negotiators on the planet. These are people who have secured 50 year commitments from 80 year-old grandmothers on fixed incomes. This will not come without sacrifice. For months, American phones will stay silent during dinner time as every available telemarketer will be drafted into service with their auto-dialers concentrated on the holy land. But peace always comes with a price; a price that will probably be around 9,599 to get in and reasonable membership fees afterwards.
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