Final Statement

Resolute and determined, the man who
once ordered the death of enemies of his
state has now placed a more personal removal
on order. What other choice does a patriot
have, after all? A proud man, a man of no
little accomplishment his honour has been
irremediably impugned by the ignorant with
power determined to hold accountable those 
designated the oppressors, the killers, the
scum among greater society's passionate
believers in heritage, culture and history
striving to retain and to protect what is theirs
while a sanctimonious world looks on in
stark condemnation. His moral compass is
sound, he very well knows and understands
the direction he and his chose, to protect
all they held dear, to destroy those who
threatened their patrimony. Faith in the
sacred memory of the past and hope for
the future led them to this choice of the
heart and the soul. The crude condemnation
of upstarts without commitment to the 
clarion call of blood and belonging and
their deliberate misconstruction of those
bloody events through their hysterical bouts
of vilification, their refusal to heed reason
has led him to his final solution, a swift
potion of death, one swallow of the draught
and they no longer can persecute the righteous.

Concerning Males

A universal conscience has been nudged
to attention from its long absence of
awareness, re-awakening to the reality of
trust abused while women shrink into
their inner resources of stifling pain and
shame, speaking no ill of those inflicting
harm, retreating into the introspection of
imagining their demeanor, their very
conspicuousness led to the assaults that
wounded their psyches and violated their
bodies. From childhood predation to adult
aggression in stages graduating to sudden
psychotic acts of blatantly vicious saddism
they have been victimized, tormented
and left to nurse their wounds traumatized
and less whole than they once were and
might aspire to be. Age no deterrent nor
mental or physical detriment, the social
contract unspoken but acknowledged
leading to compliant exploitation yet
alternating with raging aggression of gross
entitlement. Swept up in revelations are
celebrated men from the popularly avuncular
to the adored cosmopolitan sophisticates.
The swamp of leering crocodiles is being
drained and it seems like a bottomless pit
with each new set of claims matched with
ongoing professional dismissals, public
acclaim transformed to rejection and firm
friendships gone awry. And then there is
the reality of no one understanding men
more fully than other men who have always
been fearful for their daughters, mothers,
wives and sisters, shuddering at the utter
sweep of this endemic malaise of society.

The Benevolent Giant

A veritable giant of a man, his imposing
figure standing majestically over the
modest heights of mere mortals, that
deep voice bellowing from within his
robust chest sends thoughts of the Almighty
communicating with Moses, thundering
through the clouds of Sinai. Like a
compassionate Deity he inclines his head
to gaze on those he encounters smiling
kindly, his advantage transforming the
pedestrian comments he utters into 
messages seeming to brim with wisdom
and solemnity tinged with humour, himself
transfixed by the awe he inspires through
the grace of his outsize genetics causing
those new to his acquaintance and those 
long familiar with him alike to react to his
presence with visceral fascination and no
small measure of intimidation. Indeed
what a specimen he presents as from
his vertiginous height and massive frame
his bearded face beams benevolence
but like a blueprint aborted in its final
stage, possessed, alas, with a process of
thought and a mind unmatched by undue
expectation. No matter, he is more than
satisfied with the reception his extraordinary
presence elicits from those among whom
he moves, an exceptionally notable creation.
 

Deep Thinking

So then, we are fully agreed that all living
organisms require stimulation to succeed
in their most basic mission of survival
from the most primitive to the sophisticated
of nature's creatures and so rises an anomaly
in the equation where humankind which has
endlessly risen to the challenge from time
immemorial using brainpower and thought
and communication in endless brilliant
discoveries one succeeding upon the other
endowing life with the victories of scientific
achievement enhancing existence, where
will it now lead? The rare geniuses among
us whose curiosity and determination led
civilization to heights of success by leaping
into the unknown and dredging from nothing
the avails of everything might never have
imagined future generations' ambitions to 
challenge nature's own blueprints with their
daunting exploits, and here we have before
us the dawn of artificial intelligence coupled
with oncoming quantum computing at the
very time when the mysteries of the universe
and that of the human brain are not yet fully
understood. Yet the hubris of humankind has
no boundaries and in searching and ultimately
succeeding the quest will most surely result
in extinction when we realize that curiosity
and invention have made us redundant as we
unleash powers capable of their own invention
as we no longer chirp: I think, therefore I am.

 

Justice

Kindness begets trust and anger begets
hatred, two polarizing influences on the
human psyche. Loneliness, endemic and
needy brings together those who find
solace in the presence of others for we
are by nature's design creatures seeking
others to be with, live alongside, dole
emotions between and for those who 
succeed existence glows pacifically. He
prided himself on decency, a good fellow
responding to the needs of others, casually
performing deeds of value and concern
in the process assembling a coterie of
grateful women in their isolated lives as
comely as he was not. A man of action
a proud man of many capabilities, all
placed to the service of those appreciating
his manifold talents. His own desires and
needs found in complementing theirs. Not
quite. When that assurance waned and
they retreated, he fumed over inconstancy
and the gross unfairness victimizing him.
Suicide out of the question for it was a
sin for the innocent to die. Theirs, on the
other hand, was deserving. And so in the
most competent way, he obviated their
very existence in a satisfactory solution
to a problem so needful of response.

Beware Black Fridays

That old adage of the occident and the
orient as opposites seems well observed
usefully recalled on occasion when episodic
events bestir us to the reality of manifest
differences in beliefs and behaviours each
so different from the other and yet perhaps
not? Even words describing events however
take on disparate meanings from one to the
other and in the occident we shudder at 
manifestations of the barbaric we see at
play, grateful to be so unalike, or at the very
least, having outgrown medieval instincts
tipping toward intolerance and bloodshed.
Take Friday as an example, when mosques
are filled with fervent worshippers, a holy
day of prayer when the faithful do due
obeisance to the sacred and blessed nature
of their god, one of only one a phantom of
kindly disposition urging the flock to good
deeds when a deed of another kind explodes
in the sacred interior slaughtering hundreds
at the hands of that same god's faithful
given to martyrdom inflicted upon their own
while a world away another Black Friday
urges worshippers of free enterprise to
shop in a frenzy of gift-planning to prepare
for the venerated tradition of honouring
that god, the only god's mortal offspring
sacrificed so that others might not be, a
morbidly misunderstood concept whose
faithful once pilgrimaged to land held holy
by both and strange the interpretation and
enactment in each of Black Friday when
the occident and the orient finally meet.

What You Know

You know they are nice people albeit absolutely
not given to public scrutiny. But you know
them in a kind of way having lived next to
the couple for decades. And during that time
there have been occasions when conversations
were started and then ended and you went on
your way as did they. You know they had a
dog and they had a cat. You know they also
had a little girl and a toddler-son when they
moved in next to you. You know that they
loved to indulge in decorating the exterior
of their house on Halloween and at Christmas.
You know the children no longer live at home
but when they drop by it is with them that you
sometimes speak. They have their careers
and their quiet lives emulating the way they
know best. You know the dog that loved to
be noticed, appreciated and stroked is gone.
You know the cat, sleek and black that left
corpses of birds and baby rabbits about is gone.
On the approach to Halloween you know the
decorations will go up, the creepy music will
play, their lawn festooned with skeletons. No
sooner does that occasion turn the calendar it
is time for Christmas decor to make its noted
appearance, bit by bit, something added daily
as though by some mysterious, unseen hand;
lighted deer, a sled, a half-life-size Santa, a
gigantic wreath, a pair of inflated candy canes
a jolly gingerbread man, coloured lights in
abundance festooning trees, shrubs, as proof
there is life within yet questionable without.
You will know when they are no longer there
when the decorations somehow fail to appear.

Ah, A Walk in the Woods

We take our cue on viewing the day
from what it is that surrounds us and this
day we are engulfed in the dark mood of
a late November day with all of nature's
atmospheric elements engrossed in out
distancing their effects singly by joining
forces to prove that misery loves a crowd.
Politely put, this has not been a pretty
day in the woods, no sun, however wanly
remote but visually brilliant, ample wind
wickedly sending shafts of icy fingers
wherever vulnerability is in evidence. As
for striking out into nature to appreciate
fresh air and an assignation with nature's
incomparable landscapes, accompanying
those sought-after benefits are the side
effects of intermission between autumnal
nakedness and winter onset, a nasty ambience
of damp cold creeping into every unsheltered
orifice, eyes weeping and lungs inhaling
the result, while the woodland trails upon
which stout boots state their presence in
crisp crackles of dried foliage amassed
on the forest floor, with the muck of rain
drenched clay frozen in spikes of ice, later
flattened by overnight rain, freezing to
slick ice with overnight temperature drops
offers the unwary the opportunity to slip and
slide involuntarily descending hills in a
tangle of straddling legs and waving arms
incapable of arresting head-banging, back
slamming glides of malicious portent.

Hey, You! Oops, They!

'Hey, you!', the rude vernacular is so
very dated aside from being totally and
so boringly inadequate to distinguish one
from another; it is simply all too inclusive
suitable for directing at anyone at all without
distinguishing characteristics that set one
from another. Old fogies know that they
were never confused about who was a boy
and who a girl; it was a simple titillation
when one mimicked the other on occasion 
in a kind of ribald humour, a type of
street burlesque that anyone could imagine
and few took umbrage with; we were such
brats, weren't we? We shared comic books
on front stoops, played tag in the schoolyard
skated on community outdoor rinks and
rode our bicycles at breakneck speed
down hills, then clambered up trees and
went running when mothers called at
dinnertime. None of us ever dreamed of
university and so we weren't disappointed.
Our grandkids are university students and
that's so commonplace now, their opportunity
to learn so much more than we did out on
the streets, so they have their own culture 
a mystery to us where they've been taught
to embrace more gender identities than we
ever imagined existed, and feel free to alter
language in uncontested ungrammatical
conceits we find so strange, but they are
after all, also entitled and we never were.

The Military Coup

Of such events is history rife; yet
another murderous tyrant deposed but
this time with civility in response to his
accession plans of dynastic dystopia to
advance his legacy of privation, disease
starvation, unemployment, the collapse
of all within a society that expresses its
success in caring for its population, in
gracing their existence with the comforts
of expectations met and beyond. The
military finally moves to withdraw their
caretaking function of a government led
by a feebly-aging manipulator himself
now the caricatured puppet of a schemer
he groomed in his own ineffable image.
While the people groaned in extremis
their leader assumed the status of an
entitled aristocrat to whom nothing
is denied. Remove him they will despite
respect for his deliverance-past freeing
them from foreign oppressors only to
become one himself. With the ingrained
temerity of the subjugated they plead for
his assent to relieve their country from his
destructive leadership. His hubris denies
their desire, leaving little option but to
set aside the deference, resorting to force.

The Bared Forest

Crisp little shards of ice from the night's
freeze-and-thaw cycle in this interim
period between fall and winter are crushed
underfoot on forest trails where the season's
foliage mass cushions the forest floor
and lungs fill with chill air whipped by
wind surges. The trees rise in heights of
dark nakedness, the forest canopy bared
of its green cover so now the overhead
sun glances its bright spotlight through a
much less dense forest to illuminate discrete
corridors of deciduous groupings yet still
cannot penetrate the stubborn green closeness
of conifers huddling in a conspiracy of
resistance against an invasion they have
been long familiar with yet defy in shades
of green nature has divested from those
that surrender. The gaunt, black forms of
denuded forest trees wear bright halos
of compliance as the sun rests on the
horizon, setting the atmosphere behind the
trees afire with tones of red, gold, orange
the very shades surrendered to winter.

Now Playing

As the season's anticipated premiere it is
quite the performance, one without peer
in point of fact, but then it's not every
production that has the distinction of
representing the creative finesse of the
world's pre-eminent producer-director
renowned far and wide for drama and
brilliance unmatched and beyond the
abilities of any who present as challengers.
The subtle use of the main actors to
introduce the first act, an interplay of
water, wind and atmosphere in a display
of chemical interaction all in the interests
of transforming a stage as large as a
planet from one setting to another
moving the action along as death and
discovery, acceptance and revelry all
make their entrance while the director
skilfully lowers the light to a dim luster
moves the stage setting about in a choice
of diaphanous crystalline brilliance
alternating with sinister darkness and
existential threats, finally relenting to
rearrange episodic deliverance and the
finality of ushering the actors to the exit
in preparation for the next in the series
so never-ending, so anticipated, so creative.

The Era and the Way We Were

They served their purpose to history
and so did we. They were the heroes we
were their dupes. Unknowingly of course
but oh so willing because there is always a
dire need for heroes and they stood on the 
Mount Olympus of the time beaming down
confidently on us as we worshipped their
promise of deliverance from fear and the
misery of the unknown. There is always
a denouement, a time when the truth slinks
its way down the dark alleys of time and
retrospection sinks its anchor deep in dim
memory and the past plays back to us in
shades we barely recall and we recoil from
the reality of the present unveiling the
past.This is what happens when archives
are made public after having festered with
the weight of the truth awaiting the future
with its revelations. Enough time has passed
that though we deplore our failed insight
and the wasted trust and hope, our minds
must focus on the present rife with its very
own minefields of threat and deception.

 

Just Because

Because at heart he has always been
a 19th century Romantic, and back then
when we were young in our era men
simply did not wear beards, he grew his own
hiding from view the youth he was and
appearing to me most distinguished. Because
he wore a beard and no one else did he was
distinguished. Now, 40 years later it seems
that everyone wears a beard, and because
he is dismayed that they do so in the most
unkempt of manners, he persuaded himself
to finally shave. Because he always floats
ideas past me, I protested and recommended
he not. Because he is who he is he always
proceeds with whatever he intends despite
my response. And I, because knowing the 
final inevitability of his actions, steeled 
myself for the result. The deed done, facial
hair removed because he would have it so
informing me that if the result dismayed
both him and me he could readily regrow
that beard, so much a part of him because it
was,  and I finally, after all these years came
face to face with the boy I had known almost
70 years ago and because memory is so
graven in our consciousness, I rejoiced.

Mind Library

Thought, the mind's embryo
of expression, the
fully formed link to
communication is subject
to language where the
alphabet communes with
the consciousness to
select specific words
reflecting that thought
and words are the building
blocks of sentences
themselves arranged
concisely and with purpose
to convey the thought
with the premise that
anyone beside yourself
might possibly be
the least bit interested
in what you think. But
you, convinced the world
is in dire need to be
introduced to your thoughts
and conclusions make
haste to write and
publish what you've written
while you thank the
ingenuity of others who
made it all possible by
opening the portals of space.

Yes, You!

Pride in your own accomplishments
is often warranted but that is an
emotion best kept close to oneself lest
the world recognize in your boastful
hubris the need for closer scrutiny to
validate those claims. And when the
lack of humility meets up with a reality
whereby it is evident that the skills you
promote are not indeed yours, the time
is ripe for a reckoning. All the more
painful when it does not come from
within, but from an outside source
calmly correcting the public record, a
record you've made public for the very
reason that the observation that you
really lack the skills you've promoted
to advance your professional standing
and boost your very special business
cannot withstand the truth that you 
really have no business involving
yourself within, when the result is the
discerning among those seeking the
very professional skills you claim to
own think otherwise and your career
comes to an abrupt, unfortunate end.

Dusk, Falling

The forest is dense with the tension
of silence, still and void of movement
not the slightest wind remotely shuffling
whatever foliage is left on the maples, oaks
beeches and poplars. But its interior remains
shadowy-dense with the green of needles
on the pines, the firs and the spruces. Its
hills, because this is a forested ravine, are
thick with yews, but the forest floor has
been relieved of its bracken for the chill
of freezing nights has consumed them. That
same icy cold that has sent its chill deep
within the accumulated humus and soil to
penetrate deeply, freezing the forest floor to
a penetrated, hard surface. Dusk enters early
these days seeming to linger but momentarily
before it is replaced with the deep, dark
atmosphere of night. And then there is the
unmistakably restive murmur of rustling
louder here, more muted over there, as
though to leave the impression that the
creatures of the forest are settling down to
an imperturbable rest, not embarked on the
timeless prowling that instinct has geared
them toward in pursuit of their survival.

Taking Note

If you've never noticed, my friend, it's simply
because you haven't paid attention. I do
notice, not that I'm much for paying attention
to details. It's just that this represents too much
of a coincidence that dogs happen to resemble
the humans they live with, certainly physically
and often one or the other appears to have
adopted the other's personality traits. You
doubt it? You're entitled to. It used to disturb
me when I realized that some of the dogs I've
lived with had really peculiar traits and I
began to wonder if I really knew myself as
others saw me. Think about it: that kind of
thing can throw you into a state of depression.
I'm a sensible person and saw the utility 
finally of simply disregarding the idea, since
it was, after all, an idea. Not that dogs and
people have a tendency to resemble one another
no, not that, but that my dogs in particular were
tainted by my personality. Or the reverse, if
that were possible. Today, while ambling along
a trail in the forest there was a woman walking
a Golden. Of course the dog could have been
walking her. In any event, this woman had
quite distinguishing physical characteristics; for
one thing, apple cheeks, for another a most
ample body. Oh, and long, flowing red hair. And
she was wearing a cape. Did I mention how cold
and damp it was, how overcast, how windy and
miserable? With a moody dusk atmosphere well 
entrenched?Well, it was. The dog loped along
well ahead down the slope leading into the 
ravine, its red hair long and dishevelled. See
what I mean? The dog was silent, mine was not.
Did they sense something? Did I? Was there
something sinister here, a pair of shape-shifters?

 
 

Man The Wise

As humans we luxuriate in the fantasy
that among nature's creatures we are
truly exceptional, so we named ourselves
'man the wise'. Nature may not have chosen
humankind as her favourite among all her
creations, for she favoured sea urchins,
tortoises, whales, sharks, trees, clams
mussels and sturgeons with longevity far
more robust than ours. Others of her
creatures have the facility to grow new
limbs and organs when originals have failed.
Even the humble frog can withstand a
frozen state to be regenerated and none of
these attributes were invested in humankind.
Did nature consider us among her lesser
creations, think of us as ultimately disposable?
Ah, but humans are capable of creative thought
and the ability to alter their environment as
none other of nature's creatures do...and now
we have evidence that this is not entirely
appreciated by our creatrix. We have, over
the ages invented novel ways in which
objects can be made to our service and their
use has enhanced the quality of our lives.
We think. We have possession of that most
valuable of facilities; free will. And as anyone
whose home is also home to a companion
animal can attest, so do they. They moreover
bend us to their will. We acquire their company
in the belief that we have mastery over them
when in truth the reverse is true; we adore
them and invest in pleasing them. How wise
are they? A flicker of discontent distresses us.
And while we order our lives in a timely
manner, they have no need of a clock to watch
time flee; their flawless internal clock knows
when dinner time arrives, when time is right
for their walk, and when they must insist
it's bed time. While we attempt to 'read' the
messages they convey, they have no need to
exert the least effort to understand us.

It Happens...!

It seems obvious enough. The day
just wasn't paying attention. It wandered
off the calendar and then attempted to
fit itself in anywhere, in a bit of a panic
because it felt forlorn, lost and abandoned.
Trouble was, it inserted itself where it
clearly did not belong; wrong month
entirely. Oh, it was pleasant enough with
the sky that larkspur blue hosting a
full-blown sun event, but that was up
there. Down here this day distinguished
itself by a fiercely biting wind in an
already-ice-compromised atmosphere so
cold it was more than evident that the day
had blundered, its haphazard choice of
month bearing little relation to the severity
of the cold, the brittle atmosphere, the
raging wind whipping whatever was left
of November's foliage off shuddering trees.
The day before belonged where it was and
it had hosted rain, so much rain that there
were puddles everywhere. Except they were
no longer puddles but little rinks of ice
thanks to the errant day that didn't belong.

 

Fall Farewell

Nature has a way of chastising the
prideful gardener, for when the garden
presents at the apex of its splendid glory
with overwhelming generosity of blooms
in colourful display of rainbow shades
so wonderful the blissful reaction you
experience on viewing the landscape
you feel has resulted from the skills
acquired over the years in arranging and
selecting, planting and nourishing
represent a well-earned accolade from
your inner self and you are pleased to
oblige. In her overwhelming wisdom to
her credit nature permits this conceit
though it is her handiwork and not yours
that prevails. And as the architect of all
that pleases you, she also decides when it
must be put aside in the introduction of
another of her seasons. Imposing upon you
the obligation of your ongoing tasks, this
time to disassemble all that you have
taken such pride in, by disposing of annuals
cutting back perennials, trimming shrubs
and composing all the plant waste that
provided you with countless hours of
work and undiluted satisfaction quite
aside from the beauty that surrounded you
at every turn ambling through your garden.

The Canine Social Order

Clearly, nature accelerates the process
of experience for some species over
others and just as clearly this four-month
puppy has absorbed the sagacity of those
who hesitate to spontaneously act in a
situation of vulnerability, hanging back
lingering behind his human's legs, alert
to the signals radiating from the frantic
barks of three-year-old twin yappers
finally satisfying himself with the 
recognition of all-bark-no-bite and
enthusiastically engages them in a rough
tumble of chase-and-wrestle, confident
that he possesses superior sprinting
skills, boxing manoeuvres, evasive
grappling techniques to match theirs
and in the process tax their paired 
capacity of defense against his good
natured offense. Of the pair the female
hangs back, nipping opportunistically
while her brother engages the upstart
snout to snout giving back whatever he
absorbs as the puppy's increasing level
of confidence spurs him to ever greater
efforts in quasi-combat. There are no
favourites in this uneven match but much
to admire in the spunk and energy on show.
In the final analysis this transactional
display of bravado and acrobatic skills a
showcase of meet-and-greet invitation an
initiation into the civil universe of dogs.

 

The Seasoned Hikers

Confident as well-seasoned hikers
long familiar with the dense forests
crowding the valleys and slopes
of the surrounding mountains on a
grey-shrouded overcast fall day
the gloom of early dusk hanging
through the corridors of tangled trees
a split in the trail beckons left or right.
She opted for left, he consulted his
trail guide and directed them right.
Wrong. The trail was a false one
well booby-trapped by nature's
design leaning heavily on bracken
and a dried understory along with a
generosity of rocks and boulders
owning the forest floor, impeding
progress until the realization of an
absent trail struck, leading to a
back-track and frenzied search for
recalled elements; a fallen tree, a
stony creek, dried fern colony and
then confusion and fatigue. Their
dogs no wiser than they on this forest
trail that was not a trail, leading to
dark thoughts of deep woods isolation
lost bearings, impending nightfall and
quite total misery. Forgotten and
forgiven when their sturdy sense
returned along with recognition and
the security and sure-footedness of
the proper trail awaiting recognition.