hopelesshappiness.com

Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I’ve tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.
–Robert Frost

Some say the world does not inspire,
Some say it’s nice.
From what I’ve wasted to conspire
I hold with those who thus acquire,
The wealth, the power, to have their price.
I think I know that to equate
All peoples, be they strong or nice
We must ablate
And sacrifice.
–brc

Twas the week before Christmas, I'm searching my soul

For rips and for tears and for fancies unwhole;

I'm searching to understand common accord,

In hopes that I find what I must have ignored;

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My children were raised by my truth and my dreams,

By visions that Life could be more than glib schemes;

And mamma in her grace and I in my heart,

Believed we could live out long lives a la carte.

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But no sir, we cannot, we all must belong,

We must eat the same sides, we must sing the same song.

We must buy the same house, we must earn the same cash,

We must thought the same thinks and live life in a flash.

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Most choose substantial, to think that they know,

To cause and create and to increase cash flow

I chose essential, to ask and to doubt,

To struggle and search, to despair and act out.

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In this free market system of commerce and quo,

It turns out that my dreams are plodding and slow.

More rapid than my truth discoursers they came,

And they whistled, and shouted, and fanned their own flame;

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“Now, Bluster! now, Red Tape! now, Dogma uncouth!

No Wisdom! no Beauty! no Justice! no Truth!

To the top with our torch, to forego and forestall!

Convention! Division! It's best for us all!”

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As sly thieves that before their injustices lie,

When they meet with an obstacle, quick to deny,

So up to the hill-top discoursers they flew,

With a way full of guile and trickery too.

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And then, in a twinkling, I heard my soul sing,

Twas dancing and swaying, caught up in its thing.

So I drew in my angst, and I reined in my ire

And I danced with my soul to evoke and inspire.

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And I let my heart sing to know passion and peace,

In hopes that my heartache and sadness would cease.

And I let my soul dance to know common accord,

In hopes that my faith in mankind is restored.

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In youth, my eyes twinkled! I was simple and Merry!

I believed in a bunny, a fat man, a fairy!

Now four decades later, I see what wealth does,

I see what law is and I see how I was;

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The stump of a pipe dream I held in my teeth,

Between smoke and mirrors, sharks circling beneath,

It took a few years, some decades to see,

The difference between, unthinking and free.

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When our thoughts are all chubby and plump and belong,

When we dance the same dance and we sing the same song,

When the Earth cries in pain and reality screams,

We maintain our unthinking beliefs and our dreams,

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We extoll all the Glories of Nation and God,

And we practice pretense and we live Life's façade

So I must put aside what everyone knows,

I must follow the truth wherever it goes.

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I dance with my soul, to my heart give a whistle,

And away my dread flies like the down of a thistle,

I may not be right, but I know I'm not wrong

To beat my own drum and to sing my own song,

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But despite my discord, I’ll find one spark of cheer

To believe that the fat man is with me right here,

And I'll hear him exclaim 'fore he fades out of sight,

"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night."

I am one of 8,078,859,508… 8,078,859,571… 8,078,859,601… 8,078,859,688… 8,078,859,762… 8,078,859,856… 8,078,859,937… 8,078,860,060…

To increase the world population by five-hundred-fifty-two individual Humans, it took approximately four minutes with approximately one-hundred births for every forty-five deaths. All that drama (1,002 babies born, 450 people died), as I sit at the beach having my morning coffee.

Four minutes.

This is for me. A reminder that I too often forget; believing I deserve consideration more so than the next person, or the 20th person, or the 8,000,000,000th person. I am no more deserving. I am also no less deserving. But more importantly, because I consistently misinterpret “I am no less deserving,” I am no more deserving. I must continue to remind myself.

Four minutes.

Perhaps it is appropriate. Perhaps because it is my nature, perhaps it is okay that I am most important. If we are equally deserving, perhaps it is my responsibility to find an edge. But at the expense of another?

Four minutes.

Anything, everything with momentary Life is deserving. All Life is momentary. An individual, sentient Life, especially so. Yet the ability to comprehend, to discern, skews perception, frustrates understanding, inhibits compassion.

Four minutes.

All that drama as I work to find, to hone, to justify, to polish, to sharpen my edge.

This week I am reading “The Frozen Hours” from Jeff Shaara, a fictional account of the first months of the Korean War. About two-thirds of the way in, General Oliver P. Smith vows “to repair the raw, ugly stupidity that sent us out here.” In his mind, in that moment, this was not a condemnation of war; it was a strong criticism of strategy and the parts played by ego and politics. Raw. Ugly. Stupidity. It is an apt description for any decision coming from ego and politics as opposed to first-hand knowledge and understanding. Raw, ugly stupidity costs lives, advances injustice, maintains the status quo, will be the death of Humanity. Nothing I haven't said before.

So what am I going to do about it? I am going to keep beating the drum and I am going to go to work and build a pivot table. A well-thought-out pivot table with well-placed slicers allows you to see the facts from various angles and perspectives, not for varying interpretations, but to zoom in and to zoom out, to see details otherwise hidden by shadows and false walls and noise, and to see landscapes to their horizon, thus creating a greater likelihood for a consensus interpretation. Ego and politics divides and creates not only widely variant interpretations, but far worse, widely variant facts, which is not possible, (facts are facts), yet here we are.

If I were to build a pivot table for raw, ugly stupidity, I would first identify the elements (that would become column headers in my data sheet) to include:

• The Issue
• Enablers
• Drivers
• Harbingers
• The Result

The Result would include:

• Lives lost
• Divides dug
• Gaps widened
• Progress hindered

The Issue could be anything that contributes to a Result listed above; for example, gun control.

Enablers are overriding systems or conventions that are entrenched and difficult to move; for example, the misinterpretation of the second amendment.

Drivers are influential organizations, special interest groups, political parties, and vocal majorities (be they actual majority or not); for example, the NRA and the Republican Party.

Harbingers are influential individuals, (sometimes merely a mouthpiece); for example, Donald J. Trump.

The Issue in column A would occupy multiple rows to account for multiple Enablers, Drivers, Harbingers and Results in columns B, C, D and E. Column F could be added for specific detail.

Differences could then be made obvious by the number (and possibly subjective weight – column F or G) of the Results. For example, both sides on the issue of gun control are widening gaps, but only one side is preventing lives from being saved, and most constituents (on both sides) should put a greater value on life than on consensus. Therefore, on the issue of (for example) gun control, adding numbers and weights would make it obvious that the raw, ugly stupidity of the vocal majority of the Republican party is much worse than the unrefined, unseemly stupidity of the Democrats.

The glory of pivot tables.

Twas the light before darkness, when all through my head

This word it escaped and that word it has fled;

Intention's been pushed and my thoughts thusly shoved,

But still I remember how much I am loved;

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My children they gathered and I told them this,

I'm fuzzy, I'm foggy, there's something amiss;

Embarrassed to say now it's not just my age,

I'm lost, I'm afraid and I can't turn the page,

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Uncertain, confused, in this world full of clatter,

I can't put my finger on just what's the matter.

To be busy with plans is a thing of the past,

The days go by slow as my thoughts fly by fast.

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My mind peeking out through its new-fallen snow

Makes me know that I don't know what I used to know.

When what to my wandering brain should appear,

But the thought that my thoughts don't have to be clear.

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Just look who is driving this world to its brink,

They don't know, they don't see, they don't care, they don't think.

I'm better than that all because I once was,

And I still have my moments without too much fuzz,

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My Husband! My Children! Their kids and their spouses!

Memories of places, vacations and houses!

To the jobs that I've had! To respect that I've earned!

To the people I've known! To the things that I've learned!

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As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,

When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,

So too my thoughts flutter and bandy about,

No reason, no rhyme, in a head filled with doubt.

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And then the next thinkling, I know it's December,

But what I just said I just cannot remember,

I know you can see it, the blank on my face,

My words disappearing with nary a trace.

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It's okay to be blank; I'll just sit and be strong,

I'll look through my eyes and know it's not wrong,

And soon it will lift, the mist it will clear,

In the meantime I'll sit and be filled with good cheer.

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My eyes – they can see you; my children so smart!

My mind – it can know you; you're dear to my heart!

I'm fulfilling my purpose, I'm living my Life,

All the work and the play, all the joy and the strife.

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I don't want to burden, I don't want to change,

But I am encircled by new and by strange,

I need someone's help, so please help, by all means,

An end's a beginning, I'll find new routines,

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Life is chubby and plump and ripe for the pickin’,

We’ll laugh and we’ll cry, and we’ll just keep on kickin’,

And I heard Santa say with a nod of his head,

“Just sit and be strong, you have nothing to dread.”

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I don't need all the words to continue my work,

My days will be full despite darkness and murk,

And so laying my finger aside what is right,

I am loved, I am strong, I'm surrounded by light.

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So I'll spring from my doubts, to my faith give a whistle,

In hopes that fear flies, like the down of a thistle,

And though not that easy, I'll continue to fight ---

Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night.

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