Oh, I often think about Robert Frost

 

I often think about Robert Frost’s poem, his “Death of the Hired Hand”; as I too, go about my chores.   As one who takes some pride in OCD, AKA: inappropriate meticulousness; I appreciate attention to detail that others ignore.

In the poem, Silas, the handy man who is dying out of sight, was being pre-eulogized by the wife and his sometime employer, her husband.  Silas was now, maybe worthless, sometimes in the past, valuable.  But after refection, he is acknowledged as being at least, good at some few things.    But:

 

    “What good is he? Who else will harbor him?  At his age for the little he can do?” 

   Well, I recall that he could build a hay pile,    he’s trying to lift, straining to lift himself, straining, not to stand,  not on anything, really.

    To stand or nothing….

as I do as I dig potatoes from a bed I will never step into, much less stand on.  But, also, as I collect firewood, first into the tractor bucket as I cut it in the forest… how might this log fit?  Can I maximize the load and minimize the trips?  Then, as I build the pile from the tractor to the storage outside the door to the house and even as I load the dolly I use to bring in those few pieces that will warm us for a day or two, or more, if we’re lucky because the days are warm.  These efforts stand on nothing.  They are nothings which are things only because.  They are nothings.

 I am a hired hand, valued or not, by my memories, my discipline, to myself, perhaps, only to myself.

 

        Surely you wouldn’t grudge the poor old man Some humble way to save         his self-respect.

         You never see him standing on the hay  He thinks if he could teach him             that, he’d be Some good perhaps to someone in the world.

 

And if you need to read the real thing:

 

https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/44261/the-death-of-the-hired-man

Googleplex: Why not think really big?

In 1920, Edward Kasner's nine-year-old nephew, Milton Sirotta, coined the term googol, which is 10¹⁰⁰, then proposed the further term googolplex to be "one, followed by writing zeroes until you get tired".^[1] Kasner decided to adopt a more formal definition "but different people get tired at different times and it would never do to have Carnera a better mathematician than Dr. Einstein, simply because he had more endurance and could write for longer".^[2] It thus became standardized to:

         ¹⁰⁰

  10¹⁰ 

^{Ten to the tenth to the one hundredth}

 

A typical book can be printed with 10⁶ zeros (around 400 pages with 50 lines per page and 50 zeros per line). Therefore, it requires 10⁹⁴ such books to print all the zeros of a googolplex (that is, printing a googol of zeros). If each book had a mass of 100 grams, all of them would have a total mass of 10⁹³ kilograms. In comparison, Earth's mass is 5.972 x 10²⁴ kilograms, and the mass of the Milky Way Galaxy is estimated at 2.5 x 10⁴² kilograms.  The number of Protons and neutrons in the universe is 10⁸⁹ (without dark matter).  It looks like the mind of man who can think about 10^{10  to the 100th}   is greater than the Universe.

If you agree

 The thing to do is this:  Please.

Share it with somebody.

I feel as if I'm disappearing...  

I think I have something worth saying.  How do I know?  Only if someone hears.  

Is anything real if the internet doesn't "record it"?   HA!  I guess that "government by twitter" is a thing?

Oh, boy;  now there's a question about what is real (not to mention, what is "true").  

But it's starting to look like I'm wrong.  

Nobody knows.  Nobody really cares.  Not enough people care enough to make a difference.  Those who translate Twitter rants into policy, well what comes next?  

Trump farted!  That's a policy statement!

TRUTH is WHAT you say it is,

If you say it loud enough.

I have a very quiet voice.  Who has the megaphone?   Ah! difficult question!

Why can't life be easy?   There are a few more of these "simple questions" 

Please, stay in the effort to communicate.    And try to do your part.

An open letter to my "representative" Ben Cline, 5th district of Virginia, US House

 

As one of your constituents, I agree exactly with the statements made by another of your constituents, Mr. Pruett of Harrisonburg, VA.   He has said it better that I ever could have:

       "By your participation in undermining 'the sanctity of our vote', you have lost all                              legitimacy to represent either Virginians or Americans."

I too, ask that you apologize to your constituents and the nation and to resign.

If the votes by people in Pennsylvania, Georgia, Michigan, and Wisconsin are to be abnegated by you ( from your position of zero standing and even less evidence for suspicion where of ), then by your own logic, all the votes by Virginians for you (or any other candidate) should be expunged as well;     because I say so.  

Feel free to debate my logic in this conclusion.  I've emailed you (and your staff) and requested a response.

So far:   CRICKETS

Irony is Dead

 

This past Sunday, the Washington Post did a “Lou Dobbs” (he asked back in 2004 why the birther questions about Obama wouldn’t go away); he repeatedly asked this question while on his Fox program.  He often used the trumpian trope:  "Lots of people are asking these questions."  Or:  "People are asking...."

I refer to the Post headline: “Democratic Campaign Can’t Shake the ‘Court Packing’ Question”, (which was asked by the Post in their widely read newspaper).  

The newspapers fired most their editors a few years back.  Now they rely on hacks like me who write on the internet.  

Irony is dead.

I guess I'm just not empathetic enough

 Look, I know that one is supposed to be wistfully pleased to be reminded of a past loved one especially when unexpectedly coming upon something, an object, a reminder, something that we shared back when we were both alive.

Oh! Fuck You!  I did that today.  I came across something my brother left here for me in my disorganized and messy shop.

 I’ve tried to do that wistful thing, and I have felt nothing except pain because my brother did not have to be dead now.

My experience is but a microcosm of what more than 200,000 people here in the USA are feeling. 

 I guess that we’re supposed to be so much better and absorb:  “It is what it is”.

Trump is insane.

Think for a little while

 I had an epiphany today; I finally felt compassion for Trump supporters.  They have missed their chance to follow Jim Jones, drink the Kool-aide, or die in flames with David Koresh.  They’ll never put on their special tennis shoes and meet the mother spaceship with Marshall Applewhite and the Heaven’s Gate people They will never be invited to a Trump Tower or to Doral Country club.  

I came to this moment of understanding as I confronted my own weakness.  I was standing naked before my little fish pond and I was considering what the 50 degree water and the tangle of pond weeds would feel like if I jumped in as I had intended when I stripped off my clothing.  I stood there a long, long time.  What have I gotten myself into?  Is this right?   I've come this far, should I turn back?  I had to think.  I thought of the Trump supporters.

I considered their position of standing on the brink of their intentions.  They too, might be looking at what they’re about to do and what their future will bring.  Some of them can imagine a plunge into the deep end of their commitment to Trump’s three terms as president or his dictatorship, or they may wonder if they have the courage to follow up on their naked Rambo fantasies of what will really come next if they commit to a civil war to make that happen.  I imagined that a few of them were wondering who their enemies are.  Some surely realize that their participation in a Rambo movie might not include happy endings for them personally.  A few may have looked at their overweight wives and thought what Trump would have to say about them.  Some of them may be questioning Trump's record of loyality to other.

  If you stop and think for awhile, lots of things come to mind.

My compassion was for those people who have those doubts about their rhetoric, bluster, and their actions to this point.   I hope that they'll think for a little while.  I don’t know what they will do.

But I jumped in to that cold, cold water.  After having thought for a while, it seemed like the right thing to do.

Then again, a few minutes in very cold water isn't anything like more years of a Trump presidency.