Men For Any Season

There's a part of me which can't believe I'll ever be hungry again after a big meal. This is so fundamental to being whatever it is that we are. Abstractly we know, of course, we'll be hungry again but what is abstraction? There's an elemental truth to satiety or hunger or desire. An abstraction can't have this because it's untranslatable, the elemental thing. No one else feels it.

This doesn't absolve abstractions from the need to be rooted in reality. Quite the opposite because, well, they can be unrooted. Visceral experience can't. Accepting the reality and validity of the visceral experiences of others has something to do with conscience, I'll bet. It may be conscience for what I know because it means accepting the existence and rights of others.

Where the hell are we without that? A world without conscience. And people are fascinated with this because they lack the direct experience of it or fail to understand it abstractly. I'm willing to say it's something you do not want to fuck with. Regard it with revulsion. It means multiple realities, no accountability and open-season on everyone, including your own self.

Imagine that. The bell tolls for all of us and always. Any mention of end times in the Bible is about this: your life is always ending. The second coming is always happening and the Four Horsemen are at the door. Welcome them in. We are always our own apocalypse. It is now. So, anyway, enjoy your day. Really. It's one fewer of a limited number. I will try myself. 

Construe that as you will. I meant to write on Rand Paul and people who can morph into anything at will and to suit their ambition but I've lost interest in it. I don't have the heart for it. No cudgel in my quiver today. Away I go now to have as good a day as I can. May you have as good a day as possible as well.