Nature's eye with mists is clouded

Fox news is right,there is a war against Christmas; and, it's a just and righteous one, yet it's something that can never be won or have any victory because, like most wars there is no real enemy.
The thing about this time of year is that it is truly spiritual and evokes a lot of emotion for many of us, unfortunately that is often displayed as depression or melancholia. So, with that, on some very deep level, the business minded have found that a way to fill that void of not knowing why we feel the way we do, has been transformed into buying a lot of stuff and feeling very anxious about it.
Being very busy and industrious all in the name of getting ready for the "big day" has given some meaning to the unknowable, which for a long time really was the religious reaction to the event of the birth of Jesus. Christmas wasn't in the bible, it's not got an origin as a gift exchange, that's the mash up of yuletide where people gave gifts of food to celebrate the cycle of life, the solstice and basically the stuff bigger than ourselves. Now, that is manifested in one thing, at least for me, and that is the bill.

What have you done

Tis the season, yet again, to feel inadequate, overtaxed and under appreciated.
This is the first time in 21 years that I am not putting up the Christmas tree. Not to say, that one of the ever present, other four people I live with can't take care of it. I'm not making a statement, I haven't given up on taking care of all things having nothing to do with my cultural background. I'm just keenly aware that being the only Levite in the house, it's time to pass the baton and let the half bloods set up shop.
Perhaps none of the fellows will keep any of the traditions alive that I have set forth and established all willy-nilly and such. But, I've done my best with whatever icons and with the limited ability that knowledge and guesswork could provide.

Late in the afternoon

Sometimes people's need to remain true to their schedules, appointments, and plans is beyond even a faint, scant or femto amount of reason.
Yesterday, our worst winter storm of the year arrived in the early morning hours. I of course, having my usual array of health issues, needed to go to the doctor to get a new antibiotic because the one I already had was killing me. There is no other reason I would have left the house except that I was ten times sicker than I had been before I started taking it.
Eamon the chivalric decided he had to stay home and drive me, for two reasons; the first being I had depleted any energy I might have had by heaving all night, the second, because visibility was minimal.
After picking up some more poison, we went to a nearby restaurant for some grub in that I hadn't eaten anything but saltines for three days. As we parked I suggested that there would be many seniors there even though the roads were barely passable and the conditions treacherous, they would, like their younger and more bone-dense counterparts, feel that the weather was not going to slow them down, not going to stop them from getting out. Why? can't people, especially those more vulnerable to rotten conditions, manage to see past the fear that they might become sedentary ? I know that they can't. I've seen it at the library or the Y or outside shoveling. They are relentless, and I guess, I'm a bit jealous.

Awash with the dawning

As I was reading in the newspaper this morning, in particular , an article about Internet access and regulation I thought about how the Web has become God.
This is of course true only for a certain segment of the populous, but the signs and behaviors are all there. Looking to "it" for answers, knowing that so much of the process and what is below the surface is unknowable, that a level of certainty and the evolution of the experience becoming routine and somewhat of a submission and acceptance, are all sorts of behavior that promote taking for granted that this is the place for everything.
And, it is; a slow progression of relying on and looking to the computer for all that we seek kind of reinforces the "ghost in the machine" or the mind body dualism of Descartes in that the particular experience of living life while typing, kind of defeats the purpose, though it gives individuals a certain amount of connection to something greater than themselves, yet is undefinable.

This is my quest

Gus rode his bike here from Columbus. Well, actually, he took a bus from our capital city at around 11 last night. Arrived after 1 and happens to have taken his bicycle on the bus, so he rode that home and arrived at around 4, or so I'm told by a reliable source.
He is here on an unsanctioned visit to see the Big Lebowski on a theater screen, as that has always been his dream.
It's funny, because one of my nightmares has always been one of my children riding down city streets, in 20 degree weather in the middle of the night. So I guess that makes us even.