… or better yet, a control that powers down all the neurons, snyapses, and whatnot and reactivates them only when something really important happens in real life.
Lately, I could use something like that. Power me down to standby mode just like my DVD player. Yeah.
It’s been a depressing winter. Not only for the standard seasonal reasons but because the darkness and cold of the real world feel so much like a metaphor for the darkness and cold that are descending on freedom.
I had a plan to get temporarily to someplace warmer and lighter than the NorthWET. But the plan itself became a cause of Giant, Screaming STRESSSSSS. Cancelled that. Now the endless winter remains and the politicians in DC and state capitals peck and rip at the rotted remnants of the Constitution (and crow over their poisonous gun-grabbing feast) and I grok the concept of doldrums in every waking moment. And though I understand that the February chill and the death of the country aren’t necessarily related … well, yes they are.
A friend wrote the other day to note that everybody in her political realm is (I paraphrase) “poised on the edge of a razor blade, bleeding over every little thing.” Angry. Edgy. Ready to explode over small provocations — since, face it, they have not yet figured out how to explode at the BIG provocations without doing a (totally futile) Carl Drega.
Have you seen this, too? The boiling rage, the frustration bursting out in big or small but all-too-often inappropriate ways?
What I see — although admittedly I may be perceiving the reflection of my own mood — is anger indeed. But also a vast weariness at the prospect of fighting the gun-grabbers one more time over the same old issues. A weariness that doesn’t signal resignation. Not at all. But a weariness that is compounded by frustration and a dread uncertainty about … where and when and how.
We will rise to freedom’s defense, of course. The light will return. But what a monstrous long, dark winter this looks to be.