Archive for November, 2007

I Confess

November 18, 2007

I confess.  I gave up on politics.  It’s been happening for years – I was ‘normal’ – I voted for who I wanted to win, not who I believed in.  Year by year my cynicism grew… and when I saw The Secret and started to explore The Law of Attraction, I decided I was better off by not being so disappointed, so against.

But today I spent time with The Future of Politics— Annie Loyd (www.annieloyd.com)… Google for transpartisnship – as opposed to bipartisanship.  Like me, you are for the possibility of America.  We used to be the hope of the world, the symbol of what we all want – a fair chance, the ability to strive for equality, for a decent shot at creating our own future, for “The American Dream.”  I know you want that; we all do. 

And over the years I, at least, have given up on it.  I work for a sustainable future.  I work for social justice.  I work for spiritual fulfillment.  But it’s against a background of political cynicism and resignation.  I’m sorry.  I have been disloyal to myself — And politics is very much fundamental to all of this.

Annie has changed that for me.  She strives for a political future that goes past: “we can only hope for that if we make the other side wrong, defeated, losers.”  Annie says, “not so.”  Both ‘sides’ want the same things… And there are answers to our problems.  (I note that this is consistent with the Law of Attraction.) 

She speaks of Paul Hawken’s Blessed Unrest–– that more and more people feel like me about electoral poplitics, that there are many, many disconnected movements to the future we want…  And that we can bring this to the political scene.  There really are independents.  We want solutions not enemies.

Find out.  You owe it to yourself.  You owe it to our future.  Annie Loyd for Congress; the new transpartisanship.

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Writing for the Writing

November 2, 2007

Just noticed that I’m writing more purposefully nowadays – haven’t played too much; haven’t riffed for a while.  Riffing defines my age.  Slang defines your age.  I just found out last night that IHOMO means ‘I Humbly Offer My Opinion’ or something like that.  I don’t text message, and text messaging is creating a whole new ‘in.’ that I’m ‘out’ of 

When I say I riff, I’m ralking late 1950’s – Lennie Bruce, Mort Sahl jazz – A riff is a kind of solo – off the melody – off the theme, a flight of fancy.  On the other hand I not homo is also 1950’s, because in th 1950s there were homos and they don’t exist  any more, only gays – Language changes culture, or vice versa, a forever question.

That’s one of the reasons I love old movies – not because they’re old culture, but to really see what’s under what they say – what’s constant – what’s human.  And also to see the growth of stars.  I saw a very old Burt Lancaster film today – one of his Apache movies – interesting that he was so type cast in so many movies.  This one I hadn’t seen; an Apache captured with Geronimo and entrained to Florida (a hideous, unknown fate.)  He escapes and makes his way back.  Charles Bronson had maybe his first speaking role as a sell-out Apache – I only watched a little. 

The scene that cut me was when he was making his way innocently through St. Louis when a small dog nipped at him and he was suddenly surrounded by a crowd, becoming almost a mob when they spotted him as “an injun” (his haircut and mocassins) and angrily started running after him.  That was no different than todays homophobes or Jena racists.  Except 150 years later, they’re just flare ups – news stories; no longer unnoticed themes of the day, remembered only in young Lancaster and very early Bronson films.

You know – one of tha advantages of being 70+ is that I have a long memory.  Last night PBS had one of their periodic specials (amazing, it wasn’t fund-raising) – this a long, long look at Grouch Marx.  But a relatively old one – the memories included now long dead rememberers, making it particularly poignant.  One night I see Mr. Roberts, with only dead stars, including the very first movie with Jack Lemmon, and his well-deserved first Oscar. The next I see Jack Lemmon remembering his love for Groucho – Time is inexorable.

Boy, I am in an interesting space.  Love, memories and language