Robert (gurdonark) wrote,
Robert
gurdonark

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I saw my vision begin to blur and then I realized reality was out of focus

Last night I combed through the beaches of library books my wife had checked out on Carribean islands. Meanwhile, a sea of work awaits me, which I must complete in the next week or so. I spent part of last evening on the telephone with a friend, just in awe at such an unfortunate election result. At lunch yesterday, I pointed out how in my conservative little soccer parent county, most Republican candidates ran unopposed. I have essentially no political bone in my body, really, but I said to my co-workers that I am tempted to run for office next time, because based on this election, it looks to me that Democrats who run for office in Texas get to meet a lot of people and don't have to say anything more profound for a campaign slogan other than "Yeah? Well, me too. I am for that, too". I also pointed out that running for politcal office as a Democrat in my county is really kind of a relief, because one doesn't have to worry that one might actually be elected. Of course, if only I were a Green, then I could run in any county without stress.

I have that feeling of being burdened and working all the time, and yet of simultaneously not getting nearly enough done. Maybe I need some exercise routines in my life, to reduce stress a bit. The nanowrimo.org thing has been fun, and now I'm plugging roughly 1,000 to 2,000 words a day at dawn before work and after work, but I still hope to put in "hard time" this weekend and finish it. It won't really matter, though, if it takes a while longer--it's just that I'm ready to see it through. I'm not going to have trouble fleshing out the rest of it, as its narrative structure is so ruminative I can literally work any chance thought into the narrative. I'm not sure the result is read-able, but it is at least "write-able".

I've come to realize that my "theme" is loneliness as an idea rather than as an emotion. Loneliness is often a feeling, something that can arise due to circumstances, and then dissipate as circumstances change. This type of loneliness is arguably 'real', but this form of "curable loneliness" or "temporal loneliness", the loneliness which arises because all the other people hang out at the malt shop while the metaphoric "I" am at the drug store lunch counter, is not what interests me. Instead, it's the loneliness as an "idea", loneliness as a working concept that fascinates me. You know, the "we were talking about the space between our souls" stuff. The neat existential patter about angst over the lack of meaning/God is all well and good, but what if one knew the world had meaning, knew there were limitless possibilities, knew day to day contentment, and yet felt that distance, that ennui, that inherited fatigue--which I'll call loneliness. What if I feel good but everyone is so far away?
What if loneliness, and not evil, is the real reason we need Grace? I bit into the fruit of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, and the problem was that it was neither bitter nor sweet--it was utterly bland.

The conviction of the actress Winona Ryder on shoplifting charges caught my attention. I have mixed feelings about this case. The verdict seems correct to me, and the store was within its rights to prosecute, but I keep positing two hypotheticals. What if Winona had been the daughter of a CEO instead of an actress? Then undoubtedly, the store would have dropped the charges, banned Winona from the store, and required her to pay for the things she took. What if Winona had been a person of color working as a waitress in another store? Then the prosecution would have insisted upon a few days' jail time as a condition of a plea bargain. We imagine that entertainment figures are at the top of our social heap, but my speculation suggests to me that there is a lesson in social pecking order in Ms. Ryder's story.

This morning's improbable 4 in the morning song in my head?
"Theme from the Courtship of Eddie's Father". People let me tell you about my best friend, indeed.
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