Seven Kinds of Armageddon

I have taken this past decade for granted, granted I could not have known that until today. At this very moment, when every other word I read either fires me up or exhausts me. So I have decided to read my current news in historical fiction instead. All the characters are either imaginary or dead. And it makes watching the world fall down around them so much less stressful. Because here we are, still reading with our eyes open, seven kinds of Armageddon loom on the horizon. It is hard being current. Being alive. Living and breathing the organic diction of nonfiction. Here we are, buried heads in the sand between us and the glowing rectangle in our hands.
Ten years ago I read a book of poetry by Raymond Carver. And I read a book on agriculture, written during those too few enlightened years back in the forties. When government subsidized farmers not to grow. Covering up cornfield graveyards with soybean blankets, and tree-lines along deep furrows and fields buried under weeds, no hand touched their seeds. Eight years ago I read a bunch of theology and philosophy and social criticism from a man, Kahlil Gibran, who was fancied enough to profit off prophet. One of the few. I worked through this point of view, and it seemed like if grass could open up its mouth and speak to us. It seemed like oceans had finally found a lawyer to make a case for their emotions. Or like if a voice had a voice. Or we met the grandparents of language. I read the gospels. I read the kings. I read the stress that hope brings.
It was amazingly not like this. Not like reading these hungry feeds. These headlines laced by opinions no one could get away with in person. Just in print. Like there really isn’t someone behind them at all. Just intent.

Too much for Facebook

“The fact that someone even feels need to take issue with you expressing a personal, nonpartisan opinion about a democratically elected official says more than any social media diatribe ever could. In their minds, this was a vote between Democrat and Republican candidates. The representative ethos is so deep now, they don’t believe the human buried beneath the title should have any say in the matter. They think you’re arguing party politics. I mean hell, it’s a person who says he turns off Jesus when he enters the political spectrum. Jesus was a highly political teacher, he discussed politics, family values, farming practices and civil disobedience. (IDK if people realize, but crucifixion was a punishment for Civil Disobedience) To say you didn’t see Jesus on a ballot was really all that needed to be said. In this day and age, with everything going on, where else would Jesus be? And if anyone wants to go through line by line and show me how they insulate their support for the man from his behaviors as a human that’s great, here’s a short list for you to start on: imitating a disabled journalist to belittle him, promoting a formal registration of a religious group, selecting known bigots to government positions, being recorded bragging about sexual assault and harassment, not divulging his tax records or divesting his businesses. The republican party started their nomination process with well over ten candidates. One by one they all fell by the wayside, and the Republican party allowed the bully pushing them all off the edge of the stage to continue. You will have to own that before this conversation can continue.”