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Mumblings

Much ado has been made of The Odyssey and I fully intended to see it. Then I read some of the reviews. This is not something I normally do. In fact my intention is to never read them but as I seldom pay attention to my intentions, I did. So. The most interesting to me was that two essential parts of the Odyssey were left out. (My essentials as I’m only speaking for myself here.) The essentials were the Siren Song and the time spent on the island with the lotus eaters and singers of love and lust and pleasures consumed and consummated. But to me the very most important part that I dearly loved was the escape from the cave and the monster because Odysseus told him his name was “no man.” Therefore the allies of the blinded one-eyed giant monster could not help him against Odysseus because when they called out to him asking who he needed help with, the horror responded with “no man.” Ha!

How clever. How enjoyable were both of those sections in their entirety. I don’t know or care who the editor(s) or screenwriters were, but they should be gone with the wind. And whoever else went along with the script as it is, (e.g. the whole production crew including director). I no longer have any desire to see the movie.

This is a photograph published by globalperspectives.info. It is showing when Odysseus blinds the Cyclops making him into a no-eye instead of a one-eye. You will not see this in the movie so I thought I would show you here.

How’s that for a movie review of a film I haven’t seen? I’m sure I could make a living at this.

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I am quite tired of the word “literally” being used, even when it is used correctly.

I am also quite tired of the text on facebook being a block long and mostly because the author is using the gimmick of one paragraph per sentence or word. Please. The emphasis is lost due to its very repetition. The same with exclamation points. Only one at the end of sentences, please. And certainly do not pepper every other word or sentence with them. *sigh* Of course it loses its power that way.

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Wired has published an article about the sun being blocked due to the effects of el nino. That is to say, the powers that be are considering the blocking. Because the sun has such a powerful impact on el nino and makes it exponentially worse than it would be on its own. This is not news. This proposal has been offered up for a few years now. Perhaps it is currently becoming more serious. That would not surprise me. What surprises me is how we do not learn from our past mistakes. Let me go on record here as saying What the Hell are you Thinking! There are always, always consequences unforeseen when we mess with nature. Just because we cannot see the repercussions does not mean there aren’t any. The Earth always wins. Mother nature is not cuddly.

Remember the culling of the herd of elephants? Culling is a nice word for destroying, killing, murdering. We killed these bull elephants in front of their babies, the baby bulls. They watched as their fathers were killed and lay dying in front of them. Okay, so there were fewer elephants to overrun the surrounding small villages. There were in turn fewer new babies to overrun the villages.

What they got instead was a herd of new bulls that overran the villages and destroyed everything in their path. They acted out in outrages patterns of destruction and terrorised anyone whom they encountered. Afterall, they had no elders to raise and teach them their role within the herd. They saw their parents killed, shot by humans. They learned fury. They learned rage. Some say they even learned revenge. Well, at least there were fewer of them.

And right now the Earth seems pretty pissed off at us. Let’s please not add to the chaos. Leave the sun alone.

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For The Expats

“Oh, people have made a lot of my falling in love with Italy, and though I don’t deny it, I sometimes chafe at the idea—there’s an inkling of sexism to it, as if I’ve lost my head and left my real responsibilities behind to run off with the gardener. … When I was learning Italian, I wasn’t just trying to learn a new language—I was searching for something latent in myself, some greater personal and creative freedom, and I ended up finding it there, in a language in which I will always remain an outsider. It’s freed me from the trap of origins and prescribed identity, from the tyranny of authenticity and the myth of the so-called mother tongue. That, to me, is true liberation.”
jhumpa lahiri
–JHUMPA LAHIRI—Born this week in 1927

Lahiri authored many books, most noted are The Interpreter of Maladies, and The Namesake.

I’ve posted this here as I think our dear Jhumpa has captured perfectly the feelings of those who, in the end, move from visitor to citizen of another country. The expatriates of their home country. Or, as we say here in the U.S., the immigrants.

Funny isn’t it, how the change in a word used to describe something can so dramatically change the attitude towards the object. Or person.

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The What? Factor

Did you know:

Copied from a Facebook post. And, oh my. Good grief—what?

I’ve been around a few years and let me tell you—I was totally unaware of this. I also wonder why teachers (even in grade school) don’t tell students such things. Imagine. It could have made percentages interesting! I would have been joyous to know this. It would have given me the thrill of being a secret agent. A holder of secret knowledge. But then I would have told anyone who would listen. Of course I had to check this out by multiplying a few numbers. And then it was obvious.

What? number two: I ate breakfast at a restaurant this morning before going to the grocery store. I love restaurant eating. Not only because I don’t have to cook, but for the theatre of it. I’m sure that I must have discussed this previously. I must have as I so enjoy the sense of almost being a voyeur—and in public. Usually I hold a mental discourse to include myself in the drama I am witnessing. Not today’s fare. Today I watched a woman sitting alone in a booth. For the longest while nothing out of the ordinary happened and I couldn’t see anything of note occurring around us. I turned back to my book, [Run, A Novel by Ann Patchett] an after-dining habit I indulge while drinking my coffee. I glanced over the book just to check in with my subject while expecting nothing, and was met with a surprise.

She was sitting there rolling up remnants of the paper products—napkins, the sheath from a straw, the wrap from the eating service, and so on. Then she tossed them over the table to the other side and floor of the booth. Let me complete the picture by telling you she was an old woman with completely white hair and a blue sweater wrapped around her shoulders to keep her warm from the cold of the air conditioning. The kind of woman whose mother would have slapped her hands at such behavior. The kind of woman who never would have allowed her children to do such a thing.

I started to laugh but stopped the moment I began to think of reasons. Could she be drunk? I thought not. Was she angry with the service? No, she had chatted easily with the waitress earlier. She might even have been a regular customer.

What then? The words we dread to use as we get older or have older loved ones. The words that float in and we push them away. Alzheimers. Dementia. But no, I thought. I couldn’t end with that. Good theatre wouldn’t end with that.

What the hell. Maybe she was just having fun.

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Oops

Ohhhhh…did I ever drop the ball. Somehow I managed to miss several comments that were made regarding past posts. One was actually from 2022. Four years ago! I am so embarrassed.

I have spent the alloted time for the blog today in remedying the situation. Of course I cannot. All I can do is offer some very late responses. A 4-year delay in responding! In my defense, I did not—absolutely did not—ignore the comments, I did not see them. And I did not see where I was notified. I can only promise that it will never happen again.

Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa

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Confliction & 2028

“Don’t worry about the situation of the world. You must be happy – very, very happy! Only through happiness and waves of bliss, you will be able to help your country and the entire world. You will remain ever invincible when you don’t allow anything to obscure your happiness.” ~ Maharishi Mahesh Yogi

On a separate but related note I’ve been following the works and words of Thich Nhat Hanh for some time now. Sometimes I can even make it work, this in the now thing. At least for awhile. Sometimes I can even feel at peace–for awhile. I consider getting back to meditating and even have my own zafu and zabuton. But then I have also purchased a Yoga mat and hand weights. I’m sure I’ll get to them too.

This is all to say and finally speak to the cliched elephant in the room–Trump. The Trump world of Republicans and sycophants and followers. And I swore I would never bring him up. But like the huge festering boil of old, there it is. And the biggest scream factor that I have is my inability to understand the people who still see him in a good light, even a positive one. Those who still can see a green reflecting pool as blue. Or now as it turns out to admittedly be green, turned so by vandals.

Actually I do understand it. People don’t want truth, they want to feel safe. This sentiment is lodged in works by our pal Fyodor Dostoevsky, who wrote, “People don’t want truth; they want comfort dressed as truth” and in Kafka’s observation that people “rent illusions” to avoid the weight of reality. I understand it but I don’t. Feeling safe can kill you.

I mostly wonder what will happen to those who have to know, yet say the words and kiss the ass anyway. Marco Rubio, JD Vance, et.al. When I see them I want to cry. How could they betray us so for personal gain. Is there no integrity at all?

For God’s sake! Eating pets? Litter boxes for toilets in schools? A war!

It’s the weight of it, the sadness, the frustration. And the just plain exhaustion. As I try to picture the goodness in others, say the metta for all, and move the mala beads that were once rosary beads, I wait for the election of 2028. Will the revolution come then? Who can believe the ‘great he’ will leave peacefully. Will we be ready for the chaos this time or will we again be taken by surprise? Know this much: they will certainly be ready even if we are not.

In the new Zen, the Zen of Thich Nhat Hanh, there comes a time when the monks must not stay silent or inactive. It is an involved Zen. And the now of it will soon enough become 2028.

Copied from internet under photos of Thich Nhat Hanh.