I wrote a piece, posted it late yesterday and took it down this morning. I titled it ‘Numbers’ but ‘Scatterbrain’ would have been more like it. When I talk about people at large, I want to step back for some perspective. ‘People’ would be the subject and I would be a neutral observer but we really can’t do that. You can’t arbitrarily alternate between being and not being. People tend to believe and behave as if one’s mind is totally accessible and controllable. Good science tells us otherwise. Turning the mind on is like walking the dog without a leash. If it comes when you call and sits waiting for the next command, it’s not about one’s command. It’s about the dog. Another analogy would be, we seem to think we manage the weather when in fact all we do is carry an umbrella.
I tried to link the idea with ‘Stream of consciousness’ which was akin to nailing jello to the wall. Soon after I posted, the word ‘Scatterbrained’ came to mind. That would be ‘unorganized’ or ‘lacking concentration’ if you believe Merriam-Webster. Right now, in the moment, I am experiencing some stream of consciousness, it’s off its leash and all I can do is tag along, calling out wistfully, “Here boy!” I think scatterbrain fits. I would remove negative, insulting connotation associated with Scatterbrain. Better to embrace the flaw as part of the human condition than to deny it altogether. Truth is that truth outs and I would seem even more scattered. Once off its leash, I stop writing the story and it starts guiding me. Then it might take hours framing a narrative, reaching a cogent conclusion, or maybe not. What do I know!
What was really driving my need to write was reaching the half-million milestone with Covid fatalities. With three hundred fifty million citizens, half a million doesn’t sound so dreadful, only a small fraction of a tenth of a percent. What came to mind is that anything/everything becomes more and more difficult to visualize as more zeros fall in between the number and the decimal point, on either side. I can imagine a stack of 100 or even a thousand coins but each additional zero compounds the sum exponentially and try as we might, half a million doesn’t visualize very well. Imagine half a million people standing side by side along the road, separated at arm’s length, finger tips touching. What would it look like? Put it in a relatable, visual context. The line would be 570 miles long, from Miami, Florida to Charleston, South Carolina. It would take 8 hours to drive by at 70 mph. It totals more lives than American military killed in World Wars 1 and 2, and Viet Nam combined.
At its root is partisan politics. Many politicians want to minimize the devastating loss of life with Covid. Their sins of omission are too many, too much to rationalize with; it’s not all that bad - most of them were sick and would have died anyway, or - the economy is worth the sacrifice. The party that took great pride in personal responsibility is looking the other way. They put material gain and party loyalty ahead of a sacred trust that comes with public service. Even though the ring leader has been sidelined his faithful followers, 81 million voters, are still addicted to his hateful, self righteous rhetoric. They are doing what makes them feel good, what makes them feel right. That makes me sad. Whether we like it or not, we don’t get to choose how we feel. Sometimes I can focus on better days: Try to remember the kind of September, when life was slow and oh, so mellow. But sometimes the dog gets off its leash and all I can do is to go where it goes.
I tried to link the idea with ‘Stream of consciousness’ which was akin to nailing jello to the wall. Soon after I posted, the word ‘Scatterbrained’ came to mind. That would be ‘unorganized’ or ‘lacking concentration’ if you believe Merriam-Webster. Right now, in the moment, I am experiencing some stream of consciousness, it’s off its leash and all I can do is tag along, calling out wistfully, “Here boy!” I think scatterbrain fits. I would remove negative, insulting connotation associated with Scatterbrain. Better to embrace the flaw as part of the human condition than to deny it altogether. Truth is that truth outs and I would seem even more scattered. Once off its leash, I stop writing the story and it starts guiding me. Then it might take hours framing a narrative, reaching a cogent conclusion, or maybe not. What do I know!
What was really driving my need to write was reaching the half-million milestone with Covid fatalities. With three hundred fifty million citizens, half a million doesn’t sound so dreadful, only a small fraction of a tenth of a percent. What came to mind is that anything/everything becomes more and more difficult to visualize as more zeros fall in between the number and the decimal point, on either side. I can imagine a stack of 100 or even a thousand coins but each additional zero compounds the sum exponentially and try as we might, half a million doesn’t visualize very well. Imagine half a million people standing side by side along the road, separated at arm’s length, finger tips touching. What would it look like? Put it in a relatable, visual context. The line would be 570 miles long, from Miami, Florida to Charleston, South Carolina. It would take 8 hours to drive by at 70 mph. It totals more lives than American military killed in World Wars 1 and 2, and Viet Nam combined.
At its root is partisan politics. Many politicians want to minimize the devastating loss of life with Covid. Their sins of omission are too many, too much to rationalize with; it’s not all that bad - most of them were sick and would have died anyway, or - the economy is worth the sacrifice. The party that took great pride in personal responsibility is looking the other way. They put material gain and party loyalty ahead of a sacred trust that comes with public service. Even though the ring leader has been sidelined his faithful followers, 81 million voters, are still addicted to his hateful, self righteous rhetoric. They are doing what makes them feel good, what makes them feel right. That makes me sad. Whether we like it or not, we don’t get to choose how we feel. Sometimes I can focus on better days: Try to remember the kind of September, when life was slow and oh, so mellow. But sometimes the dog gets off its leash and all I can do is to go where it goes.
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