A Straight Shot of Politics

A blog from a gentleman of the Liberal political persuasion dedicated to right reason, clear thinking, cogent argument, and the public good.

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Location: Columbus, Ohio, United States

I have returned from darkness and quiet. I used to style myself as "Joe Claus", Santa Claus’ younger brother because that is what I still look like. I wrote my heart out about liberal politics until June of 2006, when all that could be said had been said. I wrote until I could write no more and I wrote what I best liked to read when I was young and hopeful: the short familiar essays in Engish and American periodicals of 50 to 100 years ago. The archetype of them were those of G.K. Chesterton, written in newspapers and gathered into numerous small books. I am ready to write them again. I am ready to write about life as seen by the impoverished, by the mentally ill, by the thirty years and more of American Buddhist converts, and by the sharp eyed people [so few now in number] with the watcher's disease, the people who watch and watch and watch. I am all of these.

Tuesday, March 01, 2005

Disgust, Death, Violence

I will be going to bed shortly. I've had a hard day. It was a day which should have been celebratory: I found a very good paying temporary job, so I just might be able to make next month's rent and buy some more food and meds. But the process of applying for it put so much pressure on the fragile eggshell of my heart that it nearly broke for good, leaving me to psychotic abreaction and confinement for observation in the interests of my safety.

This leaves me deadened, though only for the moment I hope, to all consideration of public good. It leaves me disgusted with all attempts to divert this country from a course that I am certain is fatally wrong, led by people who have talked themselves into believing that they can still prosper when everybody else is painted into a corner.

Why bother? There is only life or death. And, in the end, there is only death, with no real point whether it comes now or twenty years from now, unless you are using life for something worthwhile. I have something to so use it for, and it has very little to do with what I write here.

If I were strong enough to do what is useful, full time, my voice here would fall silent absolutely without regret. Whatever little hope I have of helping to turn the coming tide of misery, it cannot be compared to the ultimate gift my teachers have given me, which will take me, sooner or later, beyond both hope and fear.

I know full well that my life will be shortened by what is coming, that I and my companion will go under, when the bad policies mature, faster than most. But the only real struggle worth continuing is one with the anger, and the craving for revenge, which still creeps into corners of my heart when I am not watching. Whenever I wake up in the middle of a mental fantasy of my death by violence while doing violence, I am appalled at how much work remains to be done to purify my own mind.

How can I find the strength simply to live until I die, late or soon, and release myself from the horror of endless violence breeding more violence? I have no answers that are sure except to try.

Many I know are deceived about life. They will excuse the violence in their own mind for this reason or for that reason, for one shining result which is so good an end that it completely justifies any means. Some of these I have corresponded with on this blog or on their own blogs.

But today I am weary with such correspondence. Today I do not care to explain one more time that we are all going to hell in a grocery cart which they are helping to push. Today I wish no longer to say that those who do not work to purify the violence in their own minds, are merely making their own future worse and not improving the world one jot, whatever vision of the good that will ultimately be done by killing and torture in the name of something "higher" and "greater".

Today I merely yearn for the state beyond both hope and fear where I will finally be able to do whatever can be done to help, without clinging to it in any way and without using it to cheer myself up; and be able to let go of all things that I cannot help with, without clinging to that in any way either, and not using it to make myself miserable.

The state beyond both hope and fear...but what I will be able to obtain immediately is only the state of the deep sleep of oblivion, since my emotions have worn me out that much.

And tomorrow will be tomorrow.