Cyclonic disturbance, within the quiet scintillation of conventional conversation, banter actually, gives rise to events unfathomable. statistics well known but causes mysterious.
Spectral dances a potential of resolution.
“The sick in soul insist that it is humanity that is sick, and they are the surgeons to operate on it. They want to turn the world into a sickroom. And once they get humanity strapped to the operating table, they operate on it with an ax.” - Eric Hoffer, The Passionate State Of Mind, and Other Aphorisms (1955), Section 124
Is love really a choice given all the tears in our collective continuity? I think love is a virus afflicting, a contagion going viral, only to those who seek to know the good of all life not the one, immune, masked as indifferent. They who seek immunity do so by isolation, being unique in a celebratory way, and sequestered behind walls become stone. Fixed, immutable, and untouched by the flow of life; intolerable.
I sense we are born with the virus of love, some call cynically or skeptically: dependence. Life becomes adaption to chaos; for or against, this or that.
“The impulse of power is to turn every variable into a constant, and give to commands the inexorableness and relentlessness of laws of nature. Hence absolute power corrupts even when exercised for humane purposes. The benevolent despot who sees himself as a shepherd of the people still demands from others the submissiveness of sheep. The taint inherent in absolute power is not its inhumanity but its anti-humanity.” - Eric Hoffer, The Ordeal of Change (1963), Ch. 15 : The Unnaturalness Of Human Nature
. . . 130104 05:14 . . . Winter Dance, in order to survive the season, for the most part, I silhouette the vinyl floor tiles beneath my bed and wait for it to be over. It very well be that I am a victim of Seasonal Effective Disorder? Too sensitive to the longest night yet very couscous of the now increasing light.
However, that stated, I remain bewildered by the chaos annotated by world wide news and feel victimized by it. In empathy I feel their pain, the victims, perpetrators and those who remain bereft. To survive I read the Bible, but not only the Bible but other resources as well. Finding as much balance to counterbalance my distress in Eric Hoffer, Annie Dillard and Michel de Montaigne.
Add that I continue to expand my garden of quotes and am able to rest in them randomly . . . the words, sentences, concepts copulating with reality; worthy of remembering. For now my distemper is ameliorated with the wisdom of those who have, in their time and way, encountered the same issues that never seem to go away. Pimps, whores, assassins and thieves who run the world, all seem to adore chaos in that it lends a smoke screen to their crimes against humanity. Yet they too are afflicted by the virus of love making exception not by indifference but addiction to power instead.
Be well.
130103 05:29 love as virus
© 2013 by Jack Spratt - All Rights Reserved
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