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Friday May 18th 2012    Tim Candler

    In that loose knit collective that passes for a memory there is a place where I can stand on a cliff, stare down to a rocky shore where Sea Lions snooze, and sometimes they roll over to give their belly a chance at a little sunshine.  Also in memory there is an understanding of creatures and plants and places, as well as people, owning identities that transcend their physical presence.  It's a primitive idea, I am told.

    And I can think of that fine word ethics, and I can pin my mind upon the idea that standards of Human conduct do not emerge from drawing boards, they emerge from an association with other people and things and creatures and over time.  What's correct in one place, is maybe subject to derogatory remarks and cruel punishment in another place.  Call it Wishy-Washy, or Godless, or Communism if you need to, but much more potent in my memory is that Sea Lions have tummy buttons.

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