Wednesday, June 10, 2026

mmmmmxciv

Those who don’t know history are doomed.
         —from the trailer for HBO’s Life, Larry and the Pursuit
            of Happiness: An Almost History of America
(2026)

I see the trailer early this afternoon while I’m
frying up some vegetables and have put on a
pot of rice for lunch, all goodies from yesterday’s
trip to the weekly food pantry.  Cooking takes up

a lot of precious time, and I find myself relaying
this often.  Is it because I don’t like to cook, or
simply because I am lazy?  No, I think the reason 
is I’d rather be doing other things, like checking

off “to do” list items, making important phone calls
(why are there so many of these, they seem to
propagate exponentially as time goes) (and does
it ever go!), reading, writing, posting new pieces

to my 21-year-old online daily project (this one!).
Anyway, there’s not much else to say about that
opening line except that it resonates too well.  I’m 
tired of being didactic, of feeling a need to preach or

teach (it’d mostly be to the converted, anyway, given
the tiny ways I go about such things) (activism—
will I ever resign myself to at least acknowledging
that it’s a responsibility I do take rather seriously,

and one within which I choose not to explicitly operate,
certainly not in any traditional sense, except perhaps,
again, in these lines, which, as noted earlier, is preaching
to the converted, I suppose).  Did I quickly type it up just 

to remind myself of this, to nudge myself into trying
new ways to make a difference?  I suppose it is a bit
too obvious.  In that deceptively profound way.  But
it must not be obvious to everyone, if I am correct.  It is

to the folks in that category I should send such a reminder?
But if I am right, how would I reach any for whom that notion 
wouldn’t begin to register?  Would convincing be possible?  How 
the nastiness of political division and—dare I say it?—sheer 

and mandated ignorance have made it seem imperative 
that even I do something, anything, if a single thing can 
even be done about such a dilemma.  Surely something can
be done, there are surely many possibilities, but each avenue 

I can imagine in which I’d make a difference (like kindly and 
gently doing my best to encourage without coming across as if 
I’m proselytizing, as if I am preaching or teaching) would require 
devoting my life to the cause.  And how would I know that my

values are even the right ones?  I decided long ago against such a 
commitment to be a loudspeaker.  And so the values I find imperative
and the history that has me scattering them at times within thesse lines 
that are likely to be never seen by any of the multitude of individuals 

for whom such notions might assist persists.  So I keep doing as I 
do, all the while pondering how important it is go further, to find
at least a balance between devotion to a cause or two and my
otherwise hedonistic or artistic or financial tendencies.  So that

in the end have I taken down this little quote from a cute, perhaps
poignant new Larry David comdy coming out this year on television 
simply to verify that a cynic, a comedic celebrity, is doing more to make 
the world a better place than I ever will (even if on HBO), to remind 

me of my cowardice?  No.  It is something I already know.  As I also
know that I have perhaps made a tiny difference, if indeed my
basic ideas of morality and a pretty full lifetime intent upon educating 
myself and trying hard to maintain (what I determine in my little head) 

how I should be in order that I might make a difference and live a 
life I can be happy to have lived, doing my part— if that means 
anything.  But it will never be enough.  It’s never enough.  This 
afternoon I shall attempt to own that.  The hyperbolic corruption 

and immorality of this era, this backwards movement away from
progress, this nightmarish regress, something I’d never known
until recently in my short life of mostly impatiently but sometimes
gleefully enjoying living in a land of three steps forward and two

steps back
followed by three solid steps forwardthis blessed
repetition has suddenly reversed course, seemingly ten-fold in speed.
I am a coward, it is true, and perhaps even moreso by saying it.  If you
exist, you no doubt already know this.  And for that I apologize, knowing

that act is but pouring fuel on the fire that is leading us back to the
Dark Ages, and I’m in goose-step with the masses, complicit in
our destruction.  Nothing I can say could possibly justify it.  And
yet I say it anyway.  Unless, of course, this gives me (or perhaps

an imaginary you) the gumption to help put on the brakes in
an attempt to reverse course.  About face!  I can hardly walk, much
less turn 180 degrees, barely able to breathe.  Enough excuses!  I’m  
old.  Perhaps an adventure would help me recapture my motivation,

regain some energy.  Who’s up for an adventure?  Oh, but it’s time 
for a nap.  Here in the isolation booth, I decide to sit motionless.  Is
that staying the course?  Does it alter a destination?  To lie in sleep and
dream with satisfaction that to do nothing is a ‘step’ in the right direction.
animals