A fool and his truth
War is no longer an interruption of peace; in fact peace itself has become an uneasy interlude between wars. Peace has become a perilous balance of mutual terror and mutual fright. ~ C. Wright Mills
I have been passed over for the Nobel Peace Prize for Literature once again. I would have nominated myself for the prize but the cost exceeds my budget. Now that I think about it I’ve been passed over by every single award organization of my time. That’s OK, I can take it.
I’ve never claimed to be the greatest writer of my generation and I know there is no artistic merit to my work. The words I use come from my gut instead of my head, from intuition rather than intellect. In the world of writers, I am a gust of wind in a large storm. That’s all I will ever be.
This is my way of telling you that I am about to write about things I know nothing about. My intellect tells me that writing something like this is like swimming upstream in the cold-cold Putah Creek. Neither was is it my gut that tells me to go ahead. It is pure nerve endings that push me onward.
The difference between man and other animals is the ability to think, cry and laugh. Man has the ability to know how things are and to know how things should be. We know that all men are created equal, but some are more equal than others. We know that there are those that have and those that have not.
I have read that the upper classes are obsessed with sex, but they have very little of it themselves. It appears that they use too much sex in the manipulations of power and money. In their endeavors, they trade sex for power. They are restricted in their sexuality.
In following, the lower classes use their desire for power and push them back into sex. I cannot help but believe that when every man stands before God, they will have to explain why they abstained from the normal pleasures to which each and every one of us is entitled. So, I think it is true that everything equals out in the end.
When I think about the future, it’s apparent to me that the generation of my father was worse than my father’s father’s and my generation is worse than theirs. What is even worse is the fact that we are raising those who are so much more vicious that we are. To make my point clear, I can only quote writers who are more talented than I: Ansel Adams and Nancy Newhall.
We learn to live with horrors,
Evils as old as man, suddenly
Expanded into new until they hang
Worldwide, sky high, above our lives.
Death no longer rides a pale horse;
Death rides a ray, an atom.
War winged, rises on strange fires
To leap across oceans and continents,
Assail the moon, the sun, and the stars.
With this in mind, God created man on the last day in case man should let pride take hold of him. Thus the lowly gnat was created before man. We live in cities where no one has to know the people around us. The young will have desires that will never come to pass and the old will think about what never happened.
I have come to believe that maybe we might get lucky and some distant generation will be sterile. It is said that in every generation there is always some fool that will speak the truth as he sees it. I now live in fear that I may be that fool.