Politics In A Moment of Crisis

A few thoughts on the eve of “the most consequential election in U.S. history,” as it is being advertised. (Sorry, in order for an election to be that, the U.S. would have to be the constitutional republic it once was, and civilization in a dangerous but reversible condition, neither of which is the case.) To be clear, mind you, I have no further thoughts about the latest election on the first Tuesday of November pitting Tweedledee against Tweedledum, but rather, as I carefully indicated, a few thoughts on the eve of this momentous fizzling-out of yet another wick.

The foreground is what
Eyes must be trained not to see —
Distant sanity.

“Live in the moment,”
They tell us, dogmatically.
“Not eternally?”

Every noise that hits
My ears, reminds me of the
Silence behind it.

Eternity and
Silence — the underlying
Truths — fear turns to thought.

The fool believes this has never happened before. The wise man knows it has never stopped happening. The means change; the ends do not. The Flood is a perpetual human occurrence, the result of inevitable folly and hubris. One factor in the folly and its fallout is the increasing blindness, caused by a combination of pride and fear, with which men pursue solutions to the crises they have engendered. There is always a breaking point beyond which even good intentions will precipitate evil outcomes, due to ignorance and desperation.

There is a redstart singing in a tree near my home before dawn. We are told every day that a hundred endeavors and emergencies requiring our complete and breathless attention are threatening (or promising) to end (or revive) all freedom and meaning on this Earth.
“And,” to quote Yeats, “maybe what they say is true.” But the redstart is singing, and that means there is beauty and freedom in this world that does not depend on today’s critical decisions. That window is always open, to those strong enough to allow themselves to be distracted by it.