Red Blood; or, Nerves on a Screen

Quarter of seven.

Daylight has just begun to show, but I’ve already gone to the store and back. On the street I passed the same old dummy walking his dog Shadow without a leash, which in this county is illegal. But I guess no one is entirely innocent… The memory of my parents gets hazier all the time. Even so, I still bristle when a person denounces an epicurean lifestyle to my face; I want to say, “You self righteous hypocrite: how dare you?” The fact is that every one of us is mortal and human with red blood, no matter what your religion tells you about the fate of your soul. God should make everyone’s soul visible, and then let us judge each other truly, for good. What wickedness lives in the heart of your neighbor, the one who points the finger at everyone else? We’ve all got something to feel ashamed of, so quit being Judge Judy and shut up.

When the accused are absent, then of course I’ll come to their defense, especially if the ones in question are my parents.

Honor thy father and mother.

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Knowledge

Midnight hour.

I was thinking of how shallow people are, like the characters in Fitzgerald fiction, with voices like money. I think I’ll give up music forever because it’s no use. I’ve met so many creeps in the music business. I don’t even know how I got directed into music to start with, but it’s no place for honest people. Experience has taught me that you have nothing if you don’t have a rational love with someone, or the marriage of true minds. No other kind of relationship lasts. “Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard are sweeter.”

Eight ten.

There’s a light dusting of snow on the ground and the rooftops. Currently it’s 30 degrees out, so I’ll wait until ten o’clock to make my run…

Nine thirty.

A closer look revealed that there was no ice on the roads, and all the hype about the weather was for nothing. Yesterday afternoon I got an email from Pastor saying Ash Wednesday worship was postponed to Sunday “in the interest of safety.” People expected a huge avalanche of snow last night and into Thursday that didn’t materialize. The weather app on my iPad said it was snowing during the night, but there wasn’t much. It’s odd how people take things on faith rather than firsthand judgment. So I walked off to the store to get a few items, thoroughly puzzled by the social behavior I’d seen since yesterday. Right now, the sun is even shining.

John 8:7

Nine o’clock.

I went for a walk with early Beatles songs in my head, and observed how those guys could really sing; was it George who hit the highest notes in harmonies? Now it’s sad that life has nothing like The Beatles to offer… Elsewhere, some people swear by the ideas of Kierkegaard and his stages of esthetic, ethical, and religious, but these have been a hangup for me for many years. Can you really typecast individuals according with these labels? Is it wise to do so? I’m on the point of throwing out existentialism completely. Existentialism is actually a form of moral philosophy. Some people use it to condemn the ones who disagree with the church; for instance, they think Camus is all about executing Meursault for his amorality. But The Stranger is only one of his books, and the picture is really more complex than that if you read The Fall and The Plague… I think I was summoned to jury duty three different times, and the last summons was while I still was working. And each time, I excused myself from doing it. My supervisor knew about it and said he wished he could be a juror. But you know, those who are the most eager to do it are usually the worst candidates. Also, the first people to point the finger are those with the biggest skeletons. I believe that this is the kind of thing that Camus wants us to be aware of, particularly when reading The Fall.

Judge for Yourself

Wee hours.

I had a better day yesterday; I only have to straighten out the situation with my case manager. Thanks to him, my utility bill was zero dollars again this month. And Aesop still has dry dog food from the 40 pound bag of Pedigree that Cassidy provided. It was just something flukey about last Monday afternoon, I suppose. I don’t feel like apologizing for anything. I’m too independent to be patronized by anyone: maybe that’s what I felt that day. Meanwhile, another church Sunday is coming up and I know I won’t go. It’s the same kind of thing: I don’t need assistance with my point of view; I do just fine on my own. Nature gives us a brain for a reason, and that is for thinking. Many people don’t realize they are entitled to think for themselves on issues of metaphysics and ethics— without the interference of others who are supposedly more qualified to judge the truth. This is a real problem with American society today. Individuals have every right to be their own poet or prophet. You don’t have to defer to some “spiritual leader” to know about your identity and your world. In fact, the only one who can know these things is you. The demise of human reason is a terrible waste. Don’t trust a pastor or a therapist for knowledge of yourself. Use your own five senses and your rational mind for information about what’s what. If you don’t, then your journey through life will be the journey of a complete stranger. 

Rational Lies

Quarter of eight.

Today is still nice outside with some cirrus clouds west and south. It’s a Gloria day. Yesterday, the yard guy never showed up, so I wasted my time waiting for him. Last night I felt rather vindictive about it, saying I would give his cash to the church instead. And I do have that option, though if I did it, the blackberries would keep growing and I’d lose him for my yard man. There are a few ways to rationalize doing the wrong thing, such as saying the church needs the money, and it’s been very long since I tithed. But still, when I withdrew the cash I said it was earmarked for the yard work, plus I promised the guy that I’d have it for him. One should always do the right thing and never act out of vengeance or retribution. Therefore I’m keeping the cash safe for him for when he finishes the job.

Michelle

Seven twenty.

It’s Michelle’s last day at Community Market and she’s telling everybody so, and saying her goodbyes a little sadly. I asked her if she’ll be keeping in touch with someone here. She said she is friends with Deb and Cathy on Facebook, so maybe we’ll hear about her from them. Michelle told me that she appreciated me during the time she got to know me. I related to her that Suk referred to her as a very nice person. Suk is hard to read, she said, but it was nice to get that feedback from her employer.

I hear the screech of scrub jays in my front yard and one crow cawing. It is partly cloudy and was below freezing an hour ago. Misty texted me yesterday afternoon to say that I’m still stuck with her as my case manager for a while. The other person no longer works at the agency. I feel thankful for the coming spring after a long and rather difficult winter. Before I got up this morning, I dreamed about my brother, and now I’m reminded of the importance of being nonjudgmental. Usually the most critical people have bigger problems than you do. Always consider the source when a person gives you a hard time. I ran into Patty at the agency yesterday and she had forgotten my name and struggled to remember who I was, but I think she was preoccupied with other things. All in all, I feel at peace with people today. 

The Yellow Signal

Nine fifty five.

I had a nap for about four hours with some strange dreams, quite nonsensical and random… In real life, it tires me to watch people conform to trends like herd animals. After a while it makes us look impersonal and mechanical, as if no one had a heart or a thinking brain, nothing they could call human. Or maybe superhuman. Green means go, red means stop, but what about yellow intersections where there’s some ambiguity and the call is up to you? And there’s a lot more yellow than we admit to ourselves. Everybody wants an almanac to give them cut and dried answers because they prefer to place authority outside of themselves, which is really a recipe for unhappiness. I still don’t have much respect for sociology as a field of study when instead we can opt for ethics. The almanac you seek is your own heart. Don’t read the book. Be the book.