An English In Kentucky


















Saturday November 10th 2012    Tim Candler

     One day there was maybe just nothing, and six days later there was Adam.  He of course would be lonely and perfect without a capacity to procreate, and thus had to be tempted by a voluptuous Eve, and on it goes into panoply of why the creator is so horrible to the prize of his collection.  No willingness on my part to harp upon this concept of beginning-ness, except that it grants my mind an opportunity to put an estimate upon the power of belief.   It's a chance to ask the question where would we be without belief, rather than dripping around like a supreme court justice laying down judgment on the merit of a particular belief, and what exactly might the act of believing produce in the context of relationships between people.  I also know, a little north of where I live, indigenous groups, had the idea that our earth was a Turtle.   And much further to the west of where I live, lay an understanding of the moon that gave it the characteristics and the face of a Frog.  As well, my friend Okanya, when he thought about death, would become confused.  One part of him anxious to benefit from the Christian Mission, the other part of him staring at his own past and knowing that when he died, it would be so much nicer to follow the Lead Bull into the night, return again for a second chance at living, rather than entering a Kingdom dominated by a somewhat demanding rear guard of Angels.  And purely for the sake of tangent, Martin Luther is five hundred and twenty nine years old today.  Then when the Aquarian month comes to us in the early part of next year Charles Darwin will be only two hundred and four years old.

    The room where I sleep has its window facing a  rising moon. This moon can burn the night away, and I have reached so frail an impasse with this rising moon that no matter the curtaining, I know it's fullness and I become deaf to sleep.  A Tree Frog calling hopelessly through a dark, dark night dances the same jig upon the content of my emotions and sometimes there is shouting.  As well, on my way home, when the weather is much warmer, I see Terrapins sunning themselves on a log that many years ago fell into a green pond.  Disjointed, unassociated, maybe.  But once a decision is made, everything else is interpretation.  Or to use Ockham's analogy, everything else is shavings of meaning, until those shavings of meaning are increasingly meaningless..  My vote would be for a more perfect union. To put "Adam" in a context that included Lucy and Salem, and all the way back to the "Squirrel sized" creature that lived amongst Dinosaur, and on back still further and further to the Blue Green Algae, the single celled creatures. Back all the way to the beginning of physics.  And then I would say, with the stiff back of belief, that's where 'being' comes from.  That's what I am.  And it's from this  understanding of beginning-ness that I would chose to follow the suggestion of a Friend Who Lives Too Far Away.  Which was to imagine  going  back in time to meet with Salem and Lucy. Always a chance I might get bumped on the head, the meat stripped from my bones.  I am told, both Salem and Lucy were omnivores. Which is why I'd have to carefully consider what part of me, as well as what gift to take on that long journey deep into the Cathedral.  Frankincense and Ice Cream I have dismissed from the list as far too frivolous. The smile I get from Rock and Roll, and Bob Dylan lyrics is definitely a maybe.


Previous    Next