Tuesday September 24th 2019Tim
It's around 1.30
pm Eastern Standard Time, feel ill from lunch, rumors
abound, and like Hegel in Jena in the fall of the year
1806, I'm waiting for The World Soul on Horseback to
enter the city. The Horse was called Marengo, I believe.
Marengo, in the service of Napoleon, was injured 8 times
in the course of his career as a War Horse. A career
that ended at the Battle of Waterloo, where Marengo was
captured, sent into peaceful exile in Ely,
Cambridgeshire, England. His boss was sent to a tropical
island in the middle of the South Atlantic named after
Saint Helena of Constantinople.
World Soul is unlikely to be riding Marengo, the
creature's bones, less two hooves, are on display in the
National Army Museum in Chelsea, London, of all places.
One of the missing hooves was turned into a snuff box by
some total reprobate, the other is on loan to the
Household Cavalry Museum, in the City of Westminster,
London. More than likely today's parade will sputter
into a puddle of jellied Eels and Banana skins in the
hallways of Congress, a very slippery slope. My vote,
let's do the right thing, keep the Republic and to hell
with the politics of nuance.