I can't help noticing that some of us, and I'm not pointing fingers at any one in particular, but some of us, and I'd go so far as to say too many of us, have been running around acting like hormonally imbalanced squirrels on Twinkies.
Leaving aside questions of who did what, how 'bout we all just put down our guns?
Even assuming we mean well, don't you agree we've proven that we are too dangerous to be armed?
I'm just going to step away for a little...
Art poem by Kenneth Patchen (links to article, "All At Once Is What Eternity Is")
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P.S. Snopes clarifies the Twinkie Defense:
Dan White shot Mayor Moscone and supervisor Harvey Milk in 1978. His defense said that he was suffering from untreated depression and that his diet of Twinkies and other junk food was evidence of his depression because White was normally health-conscious (like if someone if someone who usually dresses well begins to show up in dirty clothes).
Leaving aside questions of who did what, how 'bout we all just put down our guns?
Even assuming we mean well, don't you agree we've proven that we are too dangerous to be armed?
I'm just going to step away for a little...
Art poem by Kenneth Patchen (links to article, "All At Once Is What Eternity Is")
____________
P.S. Snopes clarifies the Twinkie Defense:
Dan White shot Mayor Moscone and supervisor Harvey Milk in 1978. His defense said that he was suffering from untreated depression and that his diet of Twinkies and other junk food was evidence of his depression because White was normally health-conscious (like if someone if someone who usually dresses well begins to show up in dirty clothes).
Hi, Fresca! I've enjoyed perusing your blog again, and finding the rich variety, again, at which you're so good. Your jogging chronicle is great. Your postcards make me smile.
ReplyDeleteI think I know the story you're referring to only because my hubby has mentioned it. I still do FB, but I've become able in past months to go without media news. The bits I pick up here and there don't oppress me (at least, I get a little breathing space when I haven't sought them out as I used to). This allows more time for picture-taking of wild flowers!
That's all to say I appreciate your sentiments.
Hi, Deanna!
ReplyDeleteThanks for commenting.
Mm-hm, yes, I was spurred in specific, here, by the trial of George Zimmerman for the shooting death of Trayvon Martin (as well as this spring's school shooting at Sandy Hook), but it's the whole gun culture in the USA in general that concerns me.
I try to keep my media exposure to a minimum, but the gun shots damage my calm... (as Jayne says about River in "Firefly").
Your title captures my feelings for our country exactly and I adore the poem ... though of course everyone with an armful of wildflowers would be death on wild ecosystems. Maybe photographs of wildflowers? Hardly as poetic though.
ReplyDeleteAt first it feels good to be indignant but it's not an emotion that feeds my soul. So, yeah. More wild flowers and baby animal photos and less feeling pissed off, poodletail. I feel better already. Really!
ReplyDeleteP.S. I just remembered reading that fighting triggers the release of dopamine in us. It's been 50 years since I've punched someone but feeling indignant comes in a flash, the same way as anger did when I was the bully at Brimhall Elementary School. I would punch and punch ( usually in defense of my little brother) and then feel like throwing up. Just for today I'm going to put down my guns (thank god I don't have a gun, I'd be dangerous)'and carry an armful of daisies and nasturtiums.
ReplyDeleteEMMA: I had to go back and add "beloved" to the original title! Glad you agree.
ReplyDeleteMaybe the wildflowers could be made of recycled materials. :)
POODLE: Exactly: my 1st impulse is to rant and rage, which is why I didn't post anything right away---and I was also glad I wasn't on FB,
where I would have been more exposed to that (and more likely to participate in it).
I wanted to let my feeling sit for a while until they clarified (like mud in a jar of water). Then I went looking for something by Kenneth Patchen, who gets heartbrokenness.