Makropoulos: Arias and essays on art, life, politics, religion, and the end of time by a 424 year old diva

New Changes May Be Coming

HILL1362@roadrunner.com (Makropoulos) — Fri, 10 Jul 2015 12:19:00 -0400

Makropoulos has not died ---
as you know, that's not in her M.O.

Life has demanded that she live it,
so she is living.

In the meantime, she is contemplating
changes to this blog.

Stay tuned, my loves

I think of you often

and wish that everyone is traveling safely on the earth.

Significant Deaths Do Come in Threes

HILL1362@roadrunner.com (Makropoulos) — Fri, 15 Aug 2014 10:34:00 -0400

So, like everyone else, I was stunned to learn

of Robin Williams' sad passing.

Ironic, shocking, tragic, but

not totally surprising.

It made me think of my family and friends

capable of extreme highs and energy;

I know the dark places they are also capable

of going.

Dear Robin, Rest In Peace.

( wikipedia )

It was almost as if Robin was holding the door

for the next famous exit (or entrance,

depending on perspective)

when the news of Lauren Bacall's passing flashed across

my Smart Phone.

Another familiar face, another sadness,

but also not so shocking.

She was an old woman, after all,

with plenty of accomplishments.

My she too rest in eternal beauty.

So,

I began wondering:

who's next?

Significant deaths do come in threes,

don't they?

It took me a couple days before I realized

the heavens had demanded the most significant first.

It was Michael Brown.

ktla

That's right. Take a good look at his face.

He was the young man who was wrenched from his life,

ripping open the door of heaven,

creating that vacuum that

sucked in the souls waiting to leave.

Michael Brown was not supposed to leave.

His passing has made him famous,

and the manner of his sad death

-- the saddest of the three --

reminds us that American society still

is fighting its greatest demon.

As a college instructor,

when I saw Michael Brown's face, I could easily

imagine him

sitting in the back of a freshman English class,

a little frightened, but excited,

ready to make new friends

and move forward.

Ready to make his parents proud.

There are thousands of Michael Browns walking the streets of the United States

of America,

armed only with dreams of a better future.

All those Michael Browns

run the risk

every day

of being mistaken for a wanted man.

I'm sure they'd love to be anonymous,

as anonymous as I

writing whitely on my white screen with my white fingers.

I can get close to Michael Brown's family as easily as I can get close to Robin Williams' family.

Try as I may to share my deep sympathy with them,

I can never fully understand the road they've traveled,

from generation to generation

on their road to this undeserved fame.

Dear Michael, May the importance of your passing

not go unnoticed. Just as Robin Williams' death

has demanded that we gain sympathy and understanding

for those who struggle with deep depression, may

Michael Brown's passing

demand that we gain an equal understanding

for the struggles and misunderstandings

black men face everyday they walk out their door,

in their sincere attempt to just get beyond it.

(this is about 25 minutes long,

but it's really worth watching)

The Human Animal

HILL1362@roadrunner.com (Makropoulos) — Wed, 16 Jul 2014 19:47:00 -0400

My mind's a mess.

Words, 50 + years of distractions, a well-

practiced self-flagellation.

It wakes me at 5:15.

By the rising sun I wrestle my own demons;

nothing is won because

nothing is.

I turn and nestle my head against

the fur on your chest,

that well worn breast, with its

well-practiced heart.

I smell your breath,

feel the folds of my own skin,

imagining

us as creatures in a cave; along with kin

we struggle to save

ourselves for one more day.

We, a species among many species made of

the same stuff: dogs,

cats, pigs, birds, snakes, apes and we --

each mutely fulfilling our own tasks to ensure

the larger harmony. What

makes we we

is our dexterity. Strike

a match.

Evolution burns

forward.

The earth turns,

patiently.

To this, I fall asleep, content to live

one more day.

Digits in the Digital Realm

HILL1362@roadrunner.com (Makropoulos) — Sun, 29 Jun 2014 17:43:00 -0400

It's been a long time since my fingers tapped the keyboard, hoping to share a thought or two with the digital world. This does not necessarily mean that the woman who claims to live forever suddenly died. No chance.

One wonders how long a blog can sustain its original intent. I notice many of my friends from a year ago are either gone totally, or, like I, have lost the ability to maintain regular postings. I can't speak for them, but for me, I must say the inspiration hasn't left me, but I have been suffering, acutely, the demands placed upon anyone who works in an industry (ha! Education. ha!) where the employer is trying harder and harder to get fewer workers to do more work for less. End of excuses. The intent of my blog isn't gone either; it was and is to talk about life and eternity. Well, what the hell, there has to be more to say about that, though it may come through a different perspective now. Here's what tumbled out of my fingers today. It's not a prophecy. It's not my best work either. But I think it's funny, in a way.

We've lived past the end of time,

and into a time when days are endless;

when pain stabs so deep that it is

painless, and you and I

live in the digits

of a realm ethereal.

I'll meet you at the cyber cafe

at the intersection of Mars

and Lars (a lusty

sailor who came into port one day

only to get lost

in the stars) . There

I'll sit drinking vodka, wearing a

retainer designed to keep my

knees from dropping. It's best that way.

I know you came

to my door and rang and knocked

more than once, you even shouted, and I hid

on the third floor and watched you

from my window walk away. You

should know better. Don't

come back another day. Instead, book

mark me on your smartphone; in this domain,

don't go away. Here, I linger always,

answer feedback,

and replay.

Tomorrow, yesterday, and today.

Stardust

HILL1362@roadrunner.com (Makropoulos) — Wed, 12 Jun 2013 21:47:00 -0400

I am just a modest little

blogger

who, when I began this modest little

blog,

thought I could say something

that would impact someone.

I've since come to realize

that my little blog is just a blip

on the larger screen,

like a distant star

in a distant galaxy,

in a landscape of babble.

I'm always a little shocked

and amazed

when someone responds to a post I've written.

It's sort of like a voice from the other side of the universe.

And for those of you who are reading this:

It's nice to know you.

I ramble on

about whatever, and my words spin out

into the ether, sort of like that wonderful

to that film Contact, that I think

Carl Sagan helped produce.

Remember that?

I kind of imagine the internet that way,

this scramble of voices

of impulses

of history,

emanating from our earth,

embracing the earth,

producing lasting traces

of we,

our history.

Cosmos left a big impact on me,

when it first came out.

It was one of those media events,

like the first time we landed on the moon,

that asked me

and everyone else,

to see our planet

from elsewhere,

to put our planet in its true perspective.

This is a fairly awesome thing to do,

in the truest sense of the word

awesome.

I've been recently made aware of another film,

that places us back into that space perspective,

and asks us to look at earth

from space

and consider our responsibilities.

It's called Continuum, and from what I can see,

its makers are/were looking for funding to

suport it at Kickstarter.

I think it's worth it.

Here's a trailer for it:

I'm getting used to the fact

I'm a blip on the internet screen,

and we

as a race, perhaps,

are getting more used to the fact

that we are but a blip

in the universe,

yet when you're

an inhabitant of the blip,

well, it's worth taking the time to take care of it.

Indeed,

as I've said before,

that particular issue overshadows

all else.

On Edward Snowden, Gezi Park, and the American Constitution

HILL1362@roadrunner.com (Makropoulos) — Mon, 10 Jun 2013 12:56:00 -0400

Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.^[1}

(The Constitution of the United States of America, The First Amendment)

When the Constitution was thus perfected and established, a new form of government was created, but it was neither speculative nor experimental as to the principles on which it was based. If they were true principles, as they were, the government founded upon them was destined to a life and an influence that would continue while the liberties it was intended to preserve should be valued by the human family. Those liberties had been wrung from reluctant monarchs in many contests, in many countries, and were grouped into creeds and established in ordinances sealed with blood, in many great struggles of the people. They were not new to the people. They were consecrated theories, but no government had been previously established for the great purpose of their preservation and enforcement. That which was experimental in our plan of government was the question whether democratic rule could be so organized and conducted that it would not degenerate into license and result in the tyranny of absolutism, without saving to the people the power so often found necessary of repressing or destroying their enemy, when he was found in the person of a single despot.

(John T. Morgan. Introduction to Democracy in America by Alexis de Toqueville)

I have been following, for a few weeks now,

the demand for an equal voice

being made by a segment of the Turkish population.

Having lived in Turkey for four years,

I have my own feelings and opinions about this.

In fact, this is what I posted

on my personal Facebook page a week ago

about this:

I think it is very important for the Western world to understand why the problems in the Islamic world are our problems, too. And problems in Turkey should concern us a lot. Yes, I lived in Turkey, for four years, and there I met some of the most gracious people in the world. One of the skills I have admired in Turks is their ability to straddle two worlds . . . to live in the margins, so to speak, and to do it graciously and with integrity. They live in a country that is in both Asia and Europe; indeed, Istanbul is probably the only city in the world that straddles two continents. Geopolitically, they are at the crossroads between the Islamic world and the Judeo-Christian world. When I was living there (1999-2003) the Turks took that role very seriously. Right after 9/11, the Turkish government made attempts to host meetings of world leaders from both sides of the divide; in fact, the crossroads city of Istanbul was the site of such gatherings, and the Turks acted as moderators and translators, between the West and the East, between the secular world and the Islamic world. This is the role that Turkey can and must assume, and this is why they are a very important ally to all of us.

The current Prime Minister, Erdoğan, assumed office during my final year there, and every time I have returned since 2003, I have noticed more rigidity. Specifically, I have been back to Turkey four times since I moved back to the States, and yes, each time I've noticed an increased imposition of a more repressive Islamic state. The second last time I was there, in 2008, when I went to visit the Blue Mosque in Istanbul, I was wearing long pants, sandals and a short sleeved t-shirt, but I had brought my own scarf to cover my shoulders and head, which I always do when entering a mosque. I was taken aside by two men, who gave me about four pieces of cloth, and they demanded that I cover myself completely. That would have never happened in 1999, or 2003. . . I noticed them doing this to many foreign women. When I was there in 2012, I was armed and ready with plenty of scarves whenever I went into a historic mosque.

The founding rector of Başkent University, where I worked in Ankara, Prof Dr. Mehmet Haberal (who is also an internationally known surgeon), is still in jail; he was placed there because of his supposed involvement in Ergenekon, "an alleged clandestine, secularist ultra-nationalist organization in Turkey with possible ties to members of the country's military and security forces." (see wikipedia entry on Ergenekon). It appears that academics, media people, or anyone who poses a threat to the current government ends up being accused of being part of Ergenekon. I'm certain my Turkish friends could correct me on this, and I hope they do.

I tell you these things because I think they may help exemplify how Turkey has changed and is changing. The protesters are indeed demanding more than a park, and Erdoğan's belittlement of their demands is symptomatic of a pathological denial.

The most important thing to remember, though, is that Islam itself is not the offender. It is a beautiful religion when practiced purely, as are the other two monotheistic religions, Judaism and Christianity.

My thoughts, prayers, and supports go out to all my friends in Turkey, as they seek to have their voices heard.

I really can't say any more about that here. My feelings remain the same.

But in the world I live in today, Turkey has been eclipsed by

another story, where someone has dared to practice free speech,

in the land where free speech was the first right

granted by the Constitution:

It is very difficult for me to not make a connection between these two

news stories, and to see how the first illustrates

the possible outcome of the second.

When I moved to Turkey, I felt there was a fundamental

difference between the U.S.A and Turkey,

and that difference lay in the Constitution of the United States.

Such a hallowed document.

But while there, I began to suspect that it was beginning to become

hollow.

In Fall of 2002, I was teaching a course

on American Social and Political Systems.

This, in itself, is kind of funny, because that is not at all

my area of expertise. However,

our American historian had skipped town,

and I was told to teach this course.

I insisted that I couldn't.

"You're American, aren't you?"

they said,

"you can teach this course."

I decided to base the course on the Bill of Rights,

and to have my students analyze the

different constitutional amendments,

in terms of their historical context and

the ideology they promoted.

While I was doing this,

the war drums were beginning to sound.

Although the then current American president

was claiming that an invasion of Iraq was

the last alternative

to his aggressive rhetoric towards Saddam Hussein,

anyone who took a trip down to

the Eastern Mediterranean coast of Turkey

saw the U.S. war ships that were already anchored in the Mediterranean,

waiting for that last alternative.

My students were very upset about the impending attack.

One day, they told me that they were certain

that George W. Bush would just call for

an invasion,

and I, in my naivete said:

"He can't do that. We have a system of checks and balances in our Constitution

that require that he get permission from both Houses of Congress

before he does that."

My students laughed at me and said:

"Constitutions can be changed."

I insisted that wouldn't happen.

Well, we know what happened then:

(Notably, another political slight of hand happened

in Turkey when Erdoğan came to power,)

Since the 1920's, the Turkish Republic has been based upon

a truckload of reforms ushered in by Mustafa Kemal Atatürk.

It is quite overwhelming to read the litany of reforms

that he ushered in, in the course of a

1927 speech that lasted about five days,

called "Nutuk," but often

now referred to as "The Great Speech."

In this speech he declared all of the reforms that would usher inhis new Republic,

among them was freedom of the individual.

Turkey's attempts, ever since then, to maintain this Western-style nation have been frought

with turmoil, because these reforms, which were all enacted,

were layered upon an Islamic Empire that also housed the Caliph of the Islamic World.

(Regretably, one of Atatürk's reforms was to get rid of the Caliph,

which, in my humble opinion,

was not a political choice that he had the right to make.)

Atatürk's reforms, then, were very much an experiment,

which was not without flaws,

but it was an experiment none-the-less,

and a Great One too.

Perhaps what we are witnessing in Turkey is either

an attempt to prolong and strengthen the democratic experiment

he ushered in.

Or perhaps it is an indication of how long

such an experiment can last

in a culture where the historical precedent is for something else.

In the meantime,

in the U.S.A.,

my heart goes out to Edward Snowden.

Edward Snowden has practiced

freedom of speech,

and dared to give

freedom of information

to all Americans.

It is true; some may claim him a traitor,

and our government,

like the Turkish government,

may use their power over public discourse

to frame him as such.

Some may claim him a hero,

a man who is testing the extent to which

the American Experiment

is still valid.

His voice may be the first

among many voices

to demand our own

freedom of speech,

and privacy.

Others may think him mad.

He is painfully logical and honest,

and placidly so,

as he talks of his decision,

in the same way a madman

may painfully, logically, even honestly,

rationalize a crime.

But honestly,

I love him for it.

Edward Snowden knows he will become a cultural icon

for doing what he has done,

and for admitting that he did it.

The question is,

and the question we must all face in the U.S.A.,

politicians and citizens alike,

is:

what will he represent?

I dare say,

the United States Constitution

demands that we make the right choice

about how history will write

about Edward Snowden.

zaman

without milk on 'em

HILL1362@roadrunner.com (Makropoulos) — Sat, 1 Jun 2013 20:31:00 -0400

yeah

Cheerios

wikipedia

without milk on 'em

they're better than

Fritos

cookforestcook

Please, quote me on this, if you agree!

Feelin' Groovy

HILL1362@roadrunner.com (Makropoulos) — Sat, 1 Jun 2013 19:17:00 -0400

One thing that many people don't know about

Buffalo, New York,

which is where I live,

is that

on any given morning

I can walk out my front door

and smell

the smell

of Cheerios baking.

That's right,

Buffalo smells like Cheerios.

borninBuffalo

And it's not an unappealing smell at all.

In fact, after I moved to this city,

about nine years ago,

it was one of the things that really enamored me

to this much misunderstood town.

It's true,

when driving into this city,

one of the first things encountered

is the monstrous, haunting carcasses of former industry,

in the form of grain elevators.

Grain elevators are one of the inventions that

Buffalo, at its peak, gave to the world,

which may not seem all that big of a deal until

I find myself someplace like Barcelona, Spain,

where I was a few weeks ago,

and, on looking out at the busy harbor,

and what do I see but

a couple grain elevators:

This does make my chest swell

with a modicum of pride,

but it's a difficult one to explain,

so I generally opt not to.

But I felt it necessary to explain the grain elevator

phenomenon

in the context of the subject of

Cheerios in Buffalo,

because

as one travels along the industrial waterfront,

past rows and rows of empty grain elevators,

one inevitably encounters this:

The General Mills factory, one of the working industries

and proud employers in this town.

In this next photo, from Buffalo Rising,

you can even see the Cheerio smoke

rising out and wafting over the city.

And that's a much better scent than your typical industrial smells, I'd say.

Now, you may be wondering, why have I decided,

after so many weeks and months of silence

to write about the fact that

Buffalo smells like Cheerios?

Well, it is a notable thing,

and I did indeed smell Cheerios

just the other day.

But I also was made aware of this commercial,

and the fact that it's making some people upset:

Yes, it elecited so many nasty, petty racist comments that

YouTube had to disable comments on it.

And that upsets me quite a bit,

because I think it's a very sweet,

brave

advertisement.

And furthermore,

it makes me so proud

to live in a city

that smells like Cheerios.

wrappedinfoil

Dear Sylvia Plath, my voice, too, gets torn off regularly. . . may I find it again:

HILL1362@roadrunner.com (Makropoulos) — Sat, 1 Jun 2013 18:03:00 -0400

Coming out from a long cold winter. . . .

HILL1362@roadrunner.com (Makropoulos) — Tue, 23 Apr 2013 23:35:00 -0400

Wow,

I'm in the Spring

of 2013.

We made it to the other side.

I will admit, I've been way too busy

to even find words.

I'm deluged in the words of others.

The words of young people,

some of whom

are strangers in the land of written words.

Still,

I could write for hours about what my students say.

I heard a great idea today:

A student named Anthony presented an argumentative paper to me,

and his thesis was that we have to train everyone to be able to recognize

the signs of depression.

And I said:

Everyone? How can we do that?

And he said:

Change the education system.

He went on to say:

We worry about physical health,

and we have to take classes about that,

but why not mental and emotional health?

He proposed changes to curricula, beginning at the lowest grades,

in which we teach young people about their emotions.

We can teach them, he said, about the fact that they'll

be sad and happy and frustrated and angry

all in the same day,

and that's normal.

We can teach them ways to manage

their emotional states.

(Like yoga and meditation, I would add. He didn't say that.)

And we can make it mandatory, Anthony said, throughout their education.

Because our emotional needs change, you know?

Yeah, I know, I said.

Anthony also thought we should teach, in this class,

morality and ethics,

separate from any religion.

So the young know that's it feels best

when they do the right thing.

As Anthony left my office, I thanked him.

And I felt exceedingly

happy.

Because I think Anthony has a fabulous idea,

that could change the world,

and if Anthony,

and the thousands of young psychology majors in the world

all feel the same way about this,

well,

we may be going in the right direction,

after all.

mantra

HILL1362@roadrunner.com (Makropoulos) — Sun, 3 Mar 2013 20:01:00 -0500

Every day

Another day

practice

being happy.

To be it

despite

the hurt;

to smile

through the fog

to love

through the apathy

until

You can do it

everyday

without a hitch.

Today is

another day to

practice

being happy.

Been In The Storm So Long

HILL1362@roadrunner.com (Makropoulos) — Tue, 26 Feb 2013 21:19:00 -0500

I really thought

that after

12/21/12

we'd enter the time

after the end of time.

Or rather I hoped that.

So far,

it's business as usual.

As we slog through

continued hate,

bickering,

belittling,

I thought I'd toss out

a song,

a prayer:

Hope this storm ends,

soon,

and we all figure out

that we're better off working together

than tearing each other apart.

how do you say "sequester"?

HILL1362@roadrunner.com (Makropoulos) — Tue, 26 Feb 2013 21:16:00 -0500

I keep hearing the word,

but I'm still not sure what it means.

So I went online and looked up the meaning of

Sequester.

Nearly every site I went to gave this as the primary definition:

"To cause to withdraw into seclusion"

Hmm.

So I turned to a far more

amusing past time.

I listened to the different voices,

at the different dictionary websites,

as they said

sequester.

Here,

you do it to:

If I had more technical savvy,

I might be able to splice them all together,

and make a song.

But I won't.

Notably, when you listen to the pronunciation

of "sequestration"

it's hard not to notice,

that it appears

that sequestration

includes

castration.

. . . . not too far from where I live

HILL1362@roadrunner.com (Makropoulos) — Sun, 10 Feb 2013 22:41:00 -0500

Buffalo, New York

gets a bad rap.

But after all the travels I've done,

and the places I've lived,

this is where I've ended up.

And sometimes they do things here that are just

too right.

Like this:

This is called a "Little Library."

Anyone is welcome to take a book, and to leave one.

they're just out there, on the streets (in the snow!)

And yes, if you're thinking:

isn't that a Frank Lloyd Wright house in the background?

Well, yes,

you're right.

That's the Darwin Martin House, one of the few multiple structure residential complexes

and one of the biggest reconstruction projects of a Wright work.

Yes, I volunteer there, too.

I can't live in a city with something like that going on

and not try to help, even in

the smallest way.

~ ~ ~

I'd like to say I'm hibernating, by the way,

and that is why I've not been here.

But that's not really true:

I am working like a dog.

I am tired,

and I am also writing~ ~

other things,

not this blog.

But I miss this blog,

and love its readers,

and I promise to return,

if only intermittently.

I'll be trying to return more and more

in the next few months

because this blog

helps me stay in touch with me.

'Til next time,

and

I hope it's soon,

here are a few photos

of Buffalo snow

stay warm,

my dears ~ ~

Unlucky, 1 - 11 - 13

HILL1362@roadrunner.com (Makropoulos) — Wed, 16 Jan 2013 00:36:00 -0500

Lordy, Lordy,

I hope this doesn't establish a pattern for the year:

Luckily, we learned with 12 21 12

that numbers and their significance

may or may not

be something to get our knickers in a twist about.

So I'll try not to take this idea that an entire year

numbered 13

could be bad luck,

but

bad stuff is happening,

forcing people

to either stick their fingers in their ears and pretend it's not relevant

or twist the facts to suit their needs

or to look for a real answer.

Visit NBCNews.com for breaking news, world news, and news about the economy

Well, I don't mean to make too strong of a parallel

between the suicide of a brilliant man

and controlling guns,

though there is something to be said

for the fact that yes, I think Aaron Schwartz was chastised

for being too smart.

And sadly, we live in a country where

being smart is not to be trusted.

And in that same country,

being armed is valued.

For some reason, the idea of anti-intellectual folks

armed with guns

makes me (a college teacher)

really frightened.

I'm going to have a lot more to say about Aaron Schwartz's death,

I think,

but for now I'll say:

something like this was bound to happen.

Aaron Schwartz may have understood,

innately, and early,

that ownership of texts

is an archaic value.

Knowledge is to be shared,

and if we want to create an intelligent public,

we have to get it out there.

Aaron Schwartz knew that.

May he Rest In Peace.

Love Poem For Today

HILL1362@roadrunner.com (Makropoulos) — Thu, 10 Jan 2013 14:39:00 -0500

(from: senior hiker )

My grandmother always said

the honeymoon's over

when you fart in bed,

and then the test of true love starts,

a love that sometimes ignores the heart

and demands a patience greater than

that of the wisest fisherman.

Well,

you and I are growing old

and seek a fairy tale more real

where companionship is the moral

and star-struck ever-afters, vile,

and bed a place to sleep,

to caress,

to talk and cry

and

to die.

I'll lie by your side,

my gentle prince

and forgive fragrant emissions.

They mark a life

well lived, and full

of wisdom and

forgiveness.

Of pain and disappointment too,

and respect for every hour,

and the worship

of the sacred

in a budding flower.

This love I welcome:

well worn,

flawed,

but always new,

and pray I give the same

to you.

(photo by me)

Diva For Today: Jill Bolte Taylor

HILL1362@roadrunner.com (Makropoulos) — Sun, 6 Jan 2013 16:10:00 -0500

Happy New Year, all.

I keep slipping in and out of blogland,

and this doesn't make me happy.

If I'm not blogging, that means I'm over extended somewhere else.

Not a good thing.

Today, I heard this TED talk, and it blew me away.

This woman is a diva, and what she's talking about

could change the world,

if we dare let it.

I also tend to think that what she's talking about is what is wrong with the world:

we're too left brained,

overburdened too with being linear and logical.

So we short circuit.

Listen to what this wonderful woman,

and hear her solution:

Christmas Thoughts, From Rumi and Me

HILL1362@roadrunner.com (Makropoulos) — Tue, 25 Dec 2012 17:23:00 -0500

Christ is the population of the world

and every object as well. There is no room

for hypocrisy. Why use bitter soup for healing

when sweet water is everywhere?

(Rumi)

and from me:

As Christmas ends,

here on the other side of 12 21 12,

make change in the world, dear friends,

by being the Jesus in yourselves. . .

wishing you a blessed holiday,

every single day.

And again, from Rumi:

Lovers think they're looking for each other,

but there's only one search: wandering

this world is wandering that, both inside one

transparent sky. In here

there is no dogma and no heresy.

The miracle of Jesus is himself, not what he said or did

about the future. Forget the future.

I'd worship someone who could do that.

On the way you may want to look back, or not,

but if you can say There's nothing ahead,

there will be nothing there.

Stretch your arms and take hold the cloth of your clothes

with both hands. The cure for pain is in the pain.

Good and bad are mixed. If you don't have both,

you don't belong with us.

When one of us gets lost, is not here, he must be inside us.

There's no place like that anywhere in the world.

(Rumi - both translated by Coleman Barks)

(both photos taken at Cheestnut Ridge Park,

in Orchard Park, New York)

Today Is Your Happy Ever After

HILL1362@roadrunner.com (Makropoulos) — Thu, 20 Dec 2012 09:34:00 -0500

( from: mapmaker )

As we all know,

tomorrow is 12 21 2012.

Not a perfect palindrome, but nigh close to one.

And it is, according to interpretations of

ancient Mayan reports,

the End of the World.

I read somewhere, in fact, that 11:00 am is a time

to be wary of.

Now, I'm not certain if that accounts for

New Zealand Time,

Eastern Standard Time,

Lunar Standard Time,

Central Time,

Greenwich Mean Time,

what to do about the

International Dateline.

But either way, be on your best behavior,

because no one truly knows the hour,

but we do have the date,

and that's tomorrow.

Now, I don't mean to be flippant about this matter.

At a certain point in my blogging career,

I was pretty focused on getting folks to straighten up their acts.

Indeed, I wrote a rather naive entry about 11/11/11,

proposing that everyone should be on their best behavior from then until now,

and maybe, just maybe,

if this truly to be the judgement hour,

the Lord On High would forgive us for our transgressions,

if we were to correct them for a year.

But, judging by the events of the last year,

no one paid attention.

Indeed, it sometimes appears

that evil has compounded,

reaching heights never imagined before.

I need

not give examples, just

fill in a few for yourself. There are plenty.

( wikipedia )

Will the world end, though?

Come back on Saturday,

by then we'll know.

In the meantime, remember:

if the end is nigh,

today is the day to say

your goodbyes,

to say your "I'm sorry"s

to tell mom you love her so,

to sit in silence

and listen to snow~

I suspect we won't get off so easy,

we won't disappear in a big bang.

We'll do it to ourselves.

We'll destroy our planet,

we'll kill our children,

we'll refuse to compromise,

we'll perpetuate wars on

unsolvable problems,

we'll go on and on and on,

until someday, slowly, we'll realized

we're dying,

and no one's coming to save us,

or command us,

or damn us.

Our cruelest judge,

when that time comes,

will be ourselves,

each solitary, self-hating self:

as we look in the mirror of our past deeds,

we'll see,

the evil has existed in you and me.

So, too, does the good.

The attitude I've taken,

and the reason I haven't written here for awhile

(that plus my terrible busy-ness!),

is because I believe

Today

is My Happy Ever After.

Every morning,

I wake up

is the day I've lived all my life to live.

And yes,

I've lived them,

one by one.

You, too.

As you prepare for Apocalypse,

live today as it is

your only day,

your happy ever after,

and every person you encounter

is here for your joy.

And then it won't matter

what happens tomorrow.

Because tomorrow will be

just another day

like today.

True Communion

HILL1362@roadrunner.com (Makropoulos) — Tue, 18 Dec 2012 11:31:00 -0500

( from: Food52 )

There are words we pass

To pass the time

And words of civility,

And words, like coins,

That fill that rhyme,

And too many of acrimony.

These words we spend

Without a thought,

Disregarding the ceremony

That occurs each time

We pass a word,

Like bread,

From mouth to mouth.

There is a wordspring,

Deep inside, where

Language lingers,

Brooding,

Aching to bond the hearts and minds

Of each sad, solitary human.

So we must treat the sharing of words,

As it should be, as

Communion,

Because in sharing words,

Like bread,

We find immortal union.

(From: Chopra )

Towards a New Kind of Diva: Goldie Blox

HILL1362@roadrunner.com (Makropoulos) — Sun, 18 Nov 2012 23:51:00 -0500

You rock, girl:

Looking for America . . . .

HILL1362@roadrunner.com (Makropoulos) — Wed, 14 Nov 2012 21:49:00 -0500

It's painful to me,

how long I go without writing here.

I didn't even get in a post-election entry.

But every day my mind and spirit aches for the time

to sit and write,

even the simplest line,

a bad attempt at poetry.

Of course, I'm happy of the outcome,

but like some aging troubadours,

I wonder if we can still do it,

still fulfill the dream. . .

. . . and so we dream. . .

dream on . . .

Vote

HILL1362@roadrunner.com (Makropoulos) — Mon, 5 Nov 2012 16:37:00 -0500

It appears that FOX News

has decided to do political analysis of muppets.

It appears they've decided

to pick on someone their own size:

Unfortunately, the effect of this piece of brilliant analysis

may actually just prove them to be precisely what they

are setting out to discredit:

puppets

So now

I send my feeble electronic voice out

across these great United States

and ask you to vote your conscience,

vote with honesty

and the same idealism that so many people used four years ago.

Why I Voted the Socialist Ticket

BY VACHEL LINDSAY

I am unjust, but I can strive for justice.

My life’s unkind, but I can vote for kindness.

I, the unloving, say life should be lovely.

I, that am blind, cry out against my blindness.

Man is a curious brute—he pets his fancies—

Fighting mankind, to win sweet luxury.

So he will be, though law be clear as crystal,

Tho’ all men plan to live in harmony.

Come, let us vote against our human nature,

Crying to God in all the polling places

To heal our everlasting sinfulness

And make us sages with transfigured faces.

. . . after a brief silence: winter, again

HILL1362@roadrunner.com (Makropoulos) — Sat, 3 Nov 2012 14:51:00 -0400

Winter again, this year will it be

rugged, demandingly, indeed

it approaches, insisting

attention, and yet we don't heed

the oncoming force that

belittles elections, not to mention T.V.

ready to be awed in the true sense of the word. Vocabulary

can't encompass

the winter we're about to see.

(I do hope all my blogging friends

are fine. I've had a terribly busy

semester ~ ~ nice to just

be moving my fingers across the keys!)

Why The Republicans Gave Obama The Election in 2008.

HILL1362@roadrunner.com (Makropoulos) — Tue, 23 Oct 2012 01:46:00 -0400

Do you remember 2008

in the U.S.A.?

(from reuters )

I do.

I remember thinking in 2008:

this economy is going to get worse before it gets better.

( from palinnation )

I also remember thinking the Republican Party made a huge strategical error:

They actually thought the American public still wanted a ticket that was at least

half good ol' boy. And half "we need a war hero

to get us out of this mess."

And they were wrong.

America wanted someone different, and

they wanted someone who could speak in a coherent sentence,

( from wikipedia )

someone who could impress middle-America

and the east and west coast as well.

Who would have believed he could be black on top of it?

I wish I could remember when I realized that the Republicans

were going to give Obama the election.

There was some kind of giddy goofy exchange

that I heard between McCain and Palin,

and I thought:

these two aren't serious about this race.

There was also a meeting,

I think it happened in late October 2008,

a precedent setting meeting,

when Obama met with

all the living presidents,

and I thought to myself:

I would love to be a fly on that wall.

I imagined the conversation went like this:

ALL THE LIVING PRESIDENTS: "Barack, we're fucked. America is in

the worst financial shape she's ever been in, most of the world hates us

and doesn't trust us, we're in a really crappy war,

and there's a really good chance that

it will get worse before it gets better.

Want to be the first Black American president?"

OBAMA: (still with the audacity to hope): "yes! I think I can do that!"

And the Republicans,

who have the calculating shrewdness of the very best psychopath,

said, "We think you're the best man for the job.

The hope you bring

will make America feel good,

and the rest of the world like us

a little

again."

(By the way, that is an imagined dialogue.

Please don't quote me as accurate

;however,

sometimes I think that's precisely what happened:

Barack Obama was offered a place in history.)

( from language log )

What the Republicans also knew,

and probably anyone with half a brain also knew

was that, over the four years between

2008 and 2012

the economy would continue to tank,

the war would get bloodier,

the terrorists would terrorize more,

and

America would forget,

oh so quickly forget

how bad we were before

Barack Obama became our 44th president.

And yes, under this young new black president,

international opinion began to turn,

as the rest of the world hoped, too, that America

was back on course to living in the world with them.

And yes, even as the Obama Administration made attempts,

with no help from the Republicans in Congress,

to change America's course,

the economy tanked more,

as anything in freefall is prone to do,

and terror became homegrown.

In fact, the Conservative spin industry in 2008 knew

that

by 2010, Americans would be wondering

why things hadn't turned around,

and by 2011, if the Republicans packaged their product well enough

they could tap into middle-America's

repressed racism

while also squelching

any real reforms

that this upstart young black man

who was given a historical opportunity to be president

tried to initiate.

This was a theory I developed

a little less than four years ago,

but I was reminded of it, tonight as I watched the debates.

Who won? Of course,

as a person looking for substance,

I'd say President Obama won.

However, I'm not sure everyone will see that.

Nor will they see what I see when I look at Romney.

I look at Mitt Romney and I see a masked man,

and the Republican machine,

the same machine that has blocked attempts

and bipartisanship during the Obama Administration,

has been working hard to build up his mask --

( from independent agenda )

Mitt Romney is

a man who has been documented over and over

again to be a liar, with a bad temper.

He had no substance tonight;

if anything, he just repeated Obama's points.

But I give Romney credit:

he's a smooth schmoozer

when he's not being a bully.

Notice, too, he only talks about

the last four years.

He's relying,

or rather, the Republican-machine is relying

on America's amnesia.

As I say above, they are also relying, I'm afraid,

on White Middle America's

repressed racism.

It's been allowed to build up over the past four years,

and now the Republicans are tapping it,

while promoting a short public memory.

I am writing this entry because

I really feel this election is urgent.

Ultimately,

Mitt Romney,

like Barack Obama,

is a puppet for the larger

parties and interests behind them,

but unfortunately,

they are puppets with international power.

We know what happened the last time

America voted a puppet into power

who didn't have a strong sense of

America's place in the world:

(from whatreallyhappened )

We really need to look past

the spin

and ask ourselves:

who do we really want

in the position of president

of this nation?

Never forget.

Anything.

We need to keep our minds

and memories

crystal clear,

and try to maintain,

despite the apparent odds,

the audacity to hope.