I aim to get back here tomorrow or Monday with some seriously random thoughts. But this has been a go-go-go sort of week, with little time to stop and cogitate, let alone write. So I’ll leave the thinking to someone else today. Here’s another of those in-depth and thoughtful articles from Ammo.com, this one on the distinction between freedom and liberty — and how those differences shaped history. A sample: To better understand what freedom and liberty mean, it’s helpful to look at the respective etymologies of these words, digging into their histories and how they developed. Freedom comes from…
Category: Mind and Spirit
Spirituality, moods, feelings, and thinking free to live free.
Three weeks ago, (if you answered the Friday Freedom Question) you wrote the first lines of your autobiography. Now, if you’re willing, write the last words of your story. Very Brief Rulz: These can be the last words/lines/paragraphs of your autobiography or of a biography someone else writes about you after you’re gone. Writing “[He/she/they] lived happily ever after” would be cheating. As before, I’ll join in when I’ve thought about the question some more. I think this one’s going to be harder than the first line.
When NPR reported Notre Dame was on fire, unreality descended. I wouldn’t have been more shocked had they said the Statue of Liberty, Mount Rushmore, and the Golden Gate bridge all simultaneously crumbled to ruin. I felt like one of those people in the French crowds, gazing at the blaze in disbelief and mourning. But why? I’ve never been to France and have no connection with the country. I’ve never viewed the Cathedral of Notre Dame except in pictures (and movies and songs and literature). In fact, when we studied medieval cathedrals in Art History class, I concluded they were…
The other day The Wandering Monk commented that even though he’s performed some of the biggest changes as Ye Olde Wreck transformed to Mo Saorise Hermitage, the house now seems “natural” to him. As if it’s the way it was meant to be. It’s true it’s getting harder to remember the utter horrorshow it was — the odor, the rot, the caved-in roof, the spiders and dead mice, the infamous not-a-garage, the corner of the bedroom that made us both back off from our labors with the simultaneous realization that the structure could fall on us. It’s now looking more…
The question for today: You’re writing your autobiography. What’s the opening line or lines? Whether this is strictly a “freedom question” or not depends entirely on you. What sums you up? What introduces you to people who may have no idea who or what you are? Where and how are you rooted? What’s the biggest grabber of your life? (Or something like that.) The writer William Alexander Percy’s autobiography opens, “My country is the Mississippi Delta, the river country.” Given that Percy was the scion of the family that developed and for decades ruled the delta, and that his status…
Over the weekend, I had a dream about George Potter. For you who don’t know (and that includes most of the world), George Potter was the most sublime writer the modern freedomista world ever produced. Then, damn him, he up and dropped dead five years ago at the tragically young age of 41. Fortunately, Bill St Clair archived most of George’s available writings for posterity. You can also find his works at The Mental Militia Forums, the place where most of us first encountered him, back when TMM forums were still The Claire Files Forums. George was my brother from…
“The world lives by phrases,” said Herbert Hoover. He spoke in the era when men like Edward Bernays, advertising mogul J. Walter Thompson, and government propaganda czar George Creel were making manipulation of the public mind “scientific.” Not to mention all pervasive. Slogans and other simple phrases were handy for taking over people’s brains. One hundred years on, and with Twitter as our bible, we may be the most phrase-driven people ever. But no doubt the pithy quote, ringing slogan, or pseudo-wise saying has always driven humans — and often driven them to heaven knows what. “Hierosolyma est perdita” (“Jerusalem…
Another bout of thinking aloud … —– Yesterday I had to be “not me” for a while. It left an uncomfortable, ICK, feeling. Nothing dramatic. I had to socialize with a small group of people I barely know or don’t know at all, and I felt compelled to turn on my handy-dandy “not me” persona. This isn’t a deception. It’s just some aspect of me, comprising maybe 5 percent of my personality, that must jump to the forefront in social situations. Friendly and full of both attentiveness and stories, maybe a little eccentric though not crossing any lines, alert and…
Sunday. March 17. Seventy-two degrees. Barely a breath of wind. Not a single cloud. And Furrydoc and I walked barefoot on that warm, pristine sand with the dogs. We didn’t write that message in the first photo, but we sure shared the exuberance that inspired somebody to do it. Beaches in this part of the world are commonly socked in or howling with wind (or both) at any time of year. A day like this would be a rare treat, even in July or August. In March? It’s a miracle! My favorite moment was rounding a curve in the cliffs…
When I went to once-a-week (or whatever it’s eventually going to be) blogging, I said I hoped my less-frequent posts would contain meaty content — but that the posts would reflect whatever the week brought, for good or ill. Recent days have brought lots of reading, sparking thoughts too formless and unorganized yet to blog. So here’s a little tale about how I plunged down the Reading List Rabbit Hole. NOTE: This piece has Amazon Associate links to the best or most eagerly awaited titles of my rabbit-hole adventure, but I’m not trying to sell you books. I’m just having…