photography – Page 2 – Life on the Wicked Stage: Act 3

Light In The Dark

In The Bleak Midwinter

The unceasing tumult of insane happenings continue rolling in, like a relentless pounding of waves threatening to drown us all. It’s enough to make you look for even the slightest glimmer of light in the darkness.

I’m not sure such a glimmer exists. To my way of thinking what’s happening can only continue to get worse until something, anything breaks in a way that no one is going to be able to control. It’s wretched enough that I find myself hoping that happens each morning.

The history of humankind proves that however this reaches a conclusion, that climax and its denouement will make its crescendo seem almost palpably tame by comparison. And, as we’ve proven and continue to prove, we’re certainly no smarter and no better than those who’ve screwed things up in the past.

Sorry for the bleakness. But it’s how I’m feeling things in the middle of this cold, darkening winter. These days remind me of the first stanza of Christina Rossetti’s poem, originally published in 1872 under the title A Christmas Carol.

In the bleak midwinter
frosty wind made moan,
earth stood hard as iron,
water like a stone:
snow had fallen,
snow on snow, snow on snow,
in the bleak midwinter,
long ago.

Although today does not feel so long ago.

You can also find more of my writings on a variety of topics on Medium at this link, including in the publications Ellemeno and Rome. I can also be found on social media under my name as above.

(image taken by the author)

Sunday Morning Reading

Inquire and think for yourself

Whew. Regular readers here will know that since the middle of December we’ve been spending time helping my daughter and her family move into a new house, with an interim stop to an Airbnb over the holidays until the new place was ready. It’s been as chaotic as any move could be, multiplied by the antics of our two grandchildren who had their small worlds turned upside down. The chaos didn’t allow for much Sunday Morning Reading, but here we are again, playing a little catch up as well as looking ahead. As much as anybody can look ahead these days.

What Just Happened? That title for Andrea Pitzer’s piece sort of explains the look I see on most people’s faces during the events of this January. If it seems like too much to think about. That’s because it is. Think on it.

Brian Merchant’s Abolish The Senses plays on the same themes and the dismay we’re all feeling.

“Do math. Check your facts.” That’s the message from Neil Steinberg in Wrapping Our Heads Around A Trillion, Now That The Alphabet is Worth $4,000,000,000,000. Don’t let others think for you.

Dealing with much smaller numbers, NatashaMH’s Five Dollars For Catastrophe explains how a $5 book about genocide can offer much more value, should you actually inquire and think for yourself. Words have meaning folks.

And while I’m linking to posts on the numbers, let’s talk gambling. Apparently it’s reaching epidemic proportions and you can bet on when the USA is going to invade other countries, among other catastrophic outcomes these days. Especially if you’re in the know. Saahil Desai says America Is Slow-Walking Into A Polymarket Disaster. I’m not so sure about the slow-walking part.

If gambling is betting on predictions, Artificial Intelligence, with its ability to predict the next word ought to be able to figure out most outcomes ahead of time. It’s all math, right? Remember that earlier admonition to think for yourself? While doing so, check out Steven Adler’s AI Isn’t “Just Predicting The Next Word” Anymore.

Are Tech Companies Allies Or A Threat To Press Freedom? I’m not spoiling Emily Bell’s conclusions with the obvious answer, because the piece is about more than that.

Jill Lepore explores How Originalism Killed The Constitution. It’s an earlier piece that contains context that most have no idea about. I’d suggest finding out.

Speaking of killing things, Russel Berman and Elaine Godfrey ask the simple question, Does Congress Even Exist Anymore? Applying the Ian Betteridge law of headlines, that any headline that ends in a question mark can be answered by the word no, you don’t have to guess at my answer. Berman and Godrey call it a fast fade. I call it a slow self-suicide.

Closing out this week, I’m pointing to a venture from a raconteur I feature here often, David Todd McCarty. He’s gathering up his words and images from over the years on a new website. David is quite a storyteller. If you think for yourself, I suggest you pay attention. For a taste check out David Dreams Of Everything.

Go Bears!

(Image from Rey Seven on Unsplash)

If you’re interested in just what the heck Sunday Morning Reading is all about you can read more about the origins of Sunday Morning Reading here. If you’d like more click on the Sunday Morning Reading link in the category column to check out what’s been shared on Sunday’s past. You can also find more of my writings on Medium at this link, including in the publications Ellemeno and Rome.

The Grandkids Fill The New Digs With Laughter

When you move into a new place one of the things you notice is how sound echoes around an empty house. Especially when there are little ones who love to run at what seems the speed of light, laughing at levels that set off Apple Watch loud enviornment warnings.

Today the movers arrive at my daughter and her famiiy’s new digs. As the place fills up with furniture and the stuff of living, the echoes will diminish, but the volume won’t as the new digs will still be overflowing with the sounds of laughter and life. We’re still mostly on babysitting duty, thus the grandkids first coloring session with Grandma waiting for the movers to do their thing.