An English In Kentucky


















August 5th 2010    Tim Candler

    All places in the world are loved by someone.   These places are called home.  Those with no home sometimes find new homes.  Then, when there is no place called home, being is lonely.

     The argument for a "sense of place" more often stems from an idea in the mind of another that suggests I should live my life this way rather than that way.   Otherwise we would be one.   But this argument for a "sense of place" contains a political dimension.  A judgment made by the always determined.

     Such products of the bossy mind, while they may be necessary for the social, are usually sufficiently irritating to turn a mind toward a stubborn idea of this place being better than that place.   Otherwise there would be no "sense of place".  And I could ask the question why.

     In our world the language of life is dominated by sustenance.  We graze the field as the Lead Bull might, then die of hunger when the grass is gone to those with shinier teeth.   Nor do we embrace or wave at strangers, because if we do someone might steal our secrets.    This picture is a satisfying one when we are in victory.   Which is why it is those who have lost everything who define success and smugness. 

     How sad this is because it means we are mostly frightened.   And what odd things cross the mind while another has those pointy implements of dentistry in their gloved fingers.   Then how nice it is to get home again. 

Previous     Next