I'm busy working on my blog posts. Watch this space!
Found in An Old Drawer of my Mind
April 17, 2017
I wrote this about four years ago, still struggling to sequel D:P, but it seems even more appropriate and pertinent to what is being Dumped on us as government reform these days. Sad to think I could have "profited" from the insight, but nobody asked me, so I didn't say.
And taking any kind of profit from the tragedy that has come upon the US would make me as immoral as the orange- and pink-faced bigots who now think they rule (every single one of them needs to retake Civics 101):
From Benjamin Ashe’s Notes: “Reformation”
Lash out and deny. Decry the challenge and the challenger as unlawful and unholy and unnatural. Make it plain that any offering sympathy or even consideration to the challenge is excommunicate, damned for eternity.
Retreat from the continued assault. Throw up walls, higher and thicker, and harden what was, what has always been into dogma. Set only the strongest to guarding and mending the walls against the onslaught. As time and assault weaken, let these consider how to mend, how to strengthen the walls. If material change comes necessary, let it be of approved material and thought. Otherwise, mend and hide the damage in the whitest of stone face and plaster. Proclaim the façade as holy Truth.
Set the rest in walls within walls, framed with smaller slits of natural light and larger codices of law. Find a new “revelation” within to bind them to one another against the challenge, but frame it as an old knowing put out of sight by sins as deadly as necessary, to fix their feet within the walls. Strip away the source of the challenge, for mortification’s sake. Simplify, purify and mortify. Demand praise for the walls, wonder at the purity of the plaster that hides the cracks, ignorance of cracks or holes and anything that smacks of weakness.
And wait. For even the greatest of challenges will tire and wish to get on with the business of living. And then release the saints.
So goes the course of history, repeated again and again by the forgetful. Perhaps it is human nature. Perhaps it is human perversity. Perhaps it is human.