Remain in the Dark

Imagine no possessions

I wonder if you can

No need for greed or hunger

A brotherhood of man

― John Lennon, Imagine

~~~~~~~

Ah baby, let's get married
We've been alone too long
Let's be alone together
Let's see if we're that strong
Yeah let's do something crazy,
Something absolutely wrong
While we're waiting
For the miracle, for the miracle to come.

― Leonard Cohen, Waiting for the Miracle 

********

Dear Kate,

You heard from two prophets just now, one you likely too much already, the other barely, if at all.

One speaks falsehood and makes a fraud of everyone who chants after him, the other makes a series of strange proposal to expose the strangeness of what's being proposed by the false prophet. 

As it always is in the grand tradition of humanity, the false prophet gets a kick and the clicks.  

Here is a warning: you are the Like you crave on social media.  And here's another: The thumbs you give show up the likes of you.

Yesterday you heard celebrities preaching from their make-believe superhero universe for the world to "imagine no possessions," as if their anti-creative endeavors have not already dispossessed the world of true adventures and genuine quests, as if the irony of them being the high priests/earners of a bona fide World Religion is not what granted them the authority to call for an end to all competing narratives.  Yes, if naked emperors, superpowers running around in their underwear are to have their way and rule this world, we shall all be running around with only our underwear.

And that's what seems to be happening in my world.

Vancouver is an earnestly joyless place.  Everyone dresses in black and moves around you.  That's being polite, we must think, discreet, to avoid harassment lawsuit mostly.  Lumps of coal I would see around me on a bus, on the street, quietly, respectfully at each's corner, socially very distanced now as ever, headphone and rain the sonic shield between us, as eyes are now for the phone and one's own navel exclusively.  My kids' bedroom doors are always closed; every attempt to open them from this end is a nuisance that is me (and I do heartily apologize always).

"Let's be alone together..."

At church too, people singing on stage don't necessarily need to look at you; they're just doing their own thing with God and you happen to reap the benefits of finding a cold seat (and there are many) to listen in.  We shall give each other space, because this god thing is kinda fragile, fraught with suspicion and easy to ridicule; any tug at any loose end could become a tug of war.  Before we study the Bible we will need to study each other's opinion and emotion, take every bit into account so to make God's words accountable to every bit.  One must dance around people to dance around the god.  Bow whichever way you like (we have rights and freedoms here, you see), but make sure your ass is not in my face.

"While we're waiting
For the miracle, for the miracle to come..."

What are we waiting for?  If it is something sensible and intelligible, we should have had it by now in this part of the world, at this most peaceful moment of history, with literally everything imaginable available to us at reasonable price or by force or whatever.  We are the best results produced by a failed human experiment; our pathetic existence speaks about the magnificence of our defeat.

“Vladimir: I don't understand. 

Estragon: Use your intelligence, can't you? 

Vladimir uses his intelligence. 

Vladimir: (finally) I remain in the dark.” 

― Samuel Beckett, "Waiting for Godot"

Yours, Alex