Political Disposition

A lecture I've been listening to speaks about a French person's impression of us in the 19th century. He specifically struck me with, "One defining characteristic of Americans is their hope and belief in progress." This is a paraphrase but the point is, he's right. At my core I'm constantly mildly dissastisfied with what I have, and spend time thinking about how it might be made better. My mental history is riddled with this and supporting stories heard as a child of men who did just this and gained fame and fortune from it. My concern and the point of making a journal entry on these thoughts is this; I'm unsure if I believe in political progress.

I'm worried that I've lost faith in our government to the point that I have no more hope in it getting better. As with all thoughts like this, if I feel this way then many many more do as well. I'm resolving to get involved in local politics of the simplest and most humble sort. Somthing to either spur me on into renewed hope and belief or provide concrete examples of what is wrong. If I do not take personal action to invest myself, I will be giving away my freedom of thought to the Media and the pundits, and they actively object to hope. Fear mongering has become such a pervasive art that I'm required to doubt whether my dissatisfaction and lack of hope is real and founded, on my own experiences, or if it is merely an implant by constant feeding and suggestion.

So, I have to go look for myself.

Cause and the Cure not Symptoms

I want to learn more about America. If I'm to have a voice, if I've something to say to this people then I should understand us better. A study of history is essential. A study of our politics and conflicts is essential. A study of our literature is essential. I want to find and understand where I stand in the march of democracy in America. Through this study, I hope, I'll be able to put names to those things I have begun to feel we are loosing. I feel a slip in who we are. We've changed direction. Not recently but over the course of my life, we've changed. I don't want to waste time on the symptoms of this change, while they are important; they are neither the cause nor the cure. What in our world view, our philosophy, our outlook on life has changed leading to this slow change in direction?

Who are we... no, more importantly, who do we wake up wanting to be?

floodnight

There was a night, when we went to bed early. And in my dreams I met her. She was Dana of my dreams. Perfect Dana. She has the same kind of dreams about me. I think it’s natural. Whatever it was, was half dream and half real, and it was good.
We woke together and were connected as one. I got up and went immediately to the toilet. I sat there, and noticed the perfect dream and reality. I was a bloody mess from thigh to chest. My bride and lovely soul mate, had bled and bled through our passionate cloudy meeting. It was her time to bleed. I consciously tried not to be disgusted, but I was as I washed.

a.d. blade