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...and they lived happily ever after. Smith & Lady: poets, artists, photographers & adventurers.
Our relationship was forged to the soundtrack of Yoko Ono's magic,
frenetic, love-laden song, "Walking On Thin Ice." ( play song )

too much too

road tar patch – foto by Smith

The two ladies in my life are asleep: Lady K on the couch, Mandy our loaner cat against my leg here in the recliner. Muted daylight outside, cloudy sky, cool pre-rain breeze blowing. I have no schedules to keep or people to meet. Life is what it is.

Was going to make a list of what makes me feel good in this world – like a hug from Lady, or the cat looking into my eyes purring – but there’s too much to catalog. Of course if I tried to make a list of the world’s wrong, it’d be too much too. Too much do do, too much to due, too much due to.

The world’s misery brings me back to my main goal: the ageless Zen quest of how to live a happy life in an unhappy world. Because the world has always been an unhappy place and an unfair affair, and always will be as long as the strong take, the rich steal, and the endless egos escalate. We’ve devoured our planet and are now turning on each other. We’re a cannibal culture.

We watched The Year of Living Dangerously last night. The first time I watched it was a decade ago, and thought it was a good movie. This time I was even more blown away by Linda Hunt’s acting, but because of his real-life drunken Jew-hating tirade, every time I saw Mel Gibson, I saw a right-wing hard-line Catholic bigot. The same thing happens whenever I see Michael Richards now since his lynching rant: I think what a racist. Or a film with O. J. Simpson: there goes a wife-killer. Or if I see an old film starring Ronald Reagan, I think what is this mass-murdering gun-running dope-smuggling bad actor puppet-President doing in my movie? We have too many bad people playing decent folk in film when there ain’t no moral home inside.

We’ve replaced ancestor worship in the east with celebrity worship here in the west. And I tell you, there aren’t a whole lot of folk worth respecting once they have money, power, fame, and all the temptations they entail. Flesh is weak, and the spirit often hard of hearing. Sometimes I suspect it’s easier to be moral if you’re not rich, powerful, or famous.

As I typed this, the muted daylight outside became thundercloud dark. Did that dark cause this, or this that, or as usual is there absolutely no cause and effect between the two?

black hole – foto by Smith

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