We don’t have that now. Instead, we have a President ready to take from our children to build more weapons, ready to cast those in most need aside to earn another dollar for the wealthiest in our country. We have a Congress ready to follow blindly, to place party over people and profit over patriotism.
Once it’s gone, it’s gone. Once the ground has been pierced for one more oil well, cracked open for one more coal mine, or bulldozed flat for one more factory it can’t be put back to the way that it was. This development might not be bad if jobs are created, and if those managers and owners of drillers, miners, and development are also stewards for the land that they are scarring. That the suffering of the land, the dirtying of the skies, and the poisoning of the rivers leads to an improvement for our overall quality of life and a bettering of our natural world in the future. But I don’t think that this is possible right now. Because this is the time of blatant greed, of naked attempts at taking land by use of personal power. Of getting rid of any rule or regulation that hurts the bottom line, even if it destroys land, water, or air for others. Of paying many people much less so that a few can make a lot more. This is the time of tearing down the old because it’s old, without regard for the longevity of what will be put in its place. History has a record of what happens to growth under these conditions, and it usually doesn’t end well.
Most of the time I don’t even think about The Flood. But, like water, every once in a while the memories seep in and fill the mind. Normally this happens at times that are totally unexpected, set off by a sound, or a smell. And, like the water, the memories surface, swirl around awhile, then float away. Those events of twenty years ago have been weighing heavily on my heart and mind for the last month or so, brought to the surface by the twentieth anniversary, and held there by all that has changed in my adopted home over the last two decades.
The act of witness doesn’t come easily. It takes a lot of work, a lot of patience, to serve as a witness. To observe. To not only look for those things that everyone sees in a new, a different way, but to have the courage and conviction to say it, or show it, or sing it, or to write it out loud. That’s hard. It takes a lifetime to learn. It has to start somewhere, and the Endowments can provide that starting point.
(T)his budget is little more than an opening shot by a little man with a chisel who is trying to scratch away the name and the deeds of his predecessor and all of those loyal to him. Trying, one hieroglyphic bird, snake, foot, and feather at a time to eliminate the successes of the last administration, regardless of the harm being caused to the Nation.
KFJM had records- vinyl- massive collections of records ranging from classical to jazz and blues, to country. Take a pick of genre and they probably had it. All catalogued. All waiting to be heard. As a new sound designer those resources were like catnip. And they came with an important, even bigger, resource- people. People who knew the craft of radio and the art of music. People ready to share that knowledge.
I know in my heart that every time our country strikes in vengeance, rather than reaches out in friendship, that our goals of safety slide farther out of reach.
For years I have posted "rants" on my Facebook page. They haven't so much been "classic rants" as much as longer format postings. Friends have been telling me for some time, "You really need to start a blog." Well, here goes...