An English In Kentucky


















Sunday March 18th 2012    Tim Candler

        I think there are a few more weeks of mail order retail in me. More likely I'll fail the test of diligence and enthusiasm and maybe this time I will greet the lay off with another sort of resignation. It is the case that Spring is not a time for the foolish spiral into which my own species has succumbed. Rather, Spring is a time for life.  To watch and feel the elemental process that a Higgs Boson might be. And this is not accomplished when locked away from the call of being and under the eagle eye of a hand held device, while Wrens are nesting.

       I know I am biased toward the infinite straight line.  In the mathematical expression this infinite line is dismissed as an arc of a circle so vast that the curve is imperceptible, and its anomalies, they say, are dictated to by gravity or the mass of others. All the same, it's this arc that makes it possible to conceive of a space beyond which one might never travel, because round and round it goes.  A necessary assumption that fills the belly with cash money.  But how much nicer it would be to see eternity as maybe the wind does. Which would mean believing in circles and I am stubborn, or dumb.

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