Rodney King's question, "Why can't we just get along?" remains unanswered as an unacknowledged burden of every generation, and will remain so as long as there are "People like you who make people like me hate people like you." Because you are black, or Mexican, or gay, or poor, or ... whatever it is that somebody likes to hate. If you want to fix something, fix that. There is no fix for any of the important things. Like the way we see things, and the way we feel about the things we see, and what we do about the way we feel... And the fascists keep things boiling with their "Why can't I hate you if I want to?" Jesus and the Buddha throw up their hands and walk on to the next town, hoping to find an audiance who can hear what they have to say-- because they cannot change minds that need to be changed, which is all enlightenment and realization are about. Changing only the minds that can be changed leaves unchanged a massive sea of minds churning, heaving, seething, rolling through the ages as the unrestrained backwash of civilization's best efforts to just get along. What to do about that leaves us looking for ways of securing the cooperation of people who delight in being uncooperative all their life long. The Huns, Goths, Vandals and Vikings were there when Pax Romana was no more.
One thought on “January 11-B, 2023”
Another magnificent pairing of photo and poem. Dump labels!
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