Thwarticus

I’M THANKFUL to have seen, in my lifetime, what many had thought would never be seen — the flip in public perception of “offenders” who have acquired and possess or use marijuana.

It may seem like long ago, but the dominant public narrative during all of my life was that marijuana users were dangerous criminals.

Reckless fools, they were. If they weren’t fools going in, marijuana made them stupid coming out, to lead lives of ruin.

But, almost overnight, Hey… it’s a new day. That was then. This is now. Don’t look at the past. Just move on and be happy.

Somehow, moving on won’t be so easy for me.

Recently published on Politico is a recap of where things stand in Congress, and why the national economy (banking, marketing) still cannot accept the flow of marijuana products.

The news is not so good.

Instead of a simple agreement that recognizes how people are born free to conduct their lives and decide things for themselves, and move on with that outlook, Congressional committees, with imagined God-like sensitivity and power, must right the scales of cosmic injustice, through reparations bestowed to those who were harmed by the earlier prohibition.

Whoa..! Whatever deal is reached using this hammerlock move will not be in the public interests, to be sure.

A better alternative, I’ve always believed, is to draw out those who implemented the marijuana prohibition, in the first place, try them for villainy, adjudge them guilty, and then whip them, publicly..!

By bringing public disgrace to former government actors for vile misuse of power in office, this might stamp an impression deep enough that prohibitions like the ones already seen in America may not be attempted again..!

It is too much to hope for — but I did live to see the flip in public attitude toward marijuana offenders.

(smile)

ONCE, THERE WAS a brilliant young man who became a surgeon — an occupation that seemed to fit well with his abilities, including the coordinated dexterity and precision of his hands.

His medical practice was a success, but he wished it was better. Seeking to become the world’s premier surgeon, he came up with an idea.

He would transplant some brain tissue into each of his fingers, making them “smart.” This way, his fingers could operate with more quickness and sensitivity, he reasoned.

The fingers soon showed a tendency to became quarrelsome with each other, however.

The middle finger, being largest, thought it was supposed to tell the other fingers what to do.

The pinky was deeply upset because of its small size and location on the flank.

Soon, the surgeons hands were at war with themselves. His dream of preeminence ended, along with his career, and then his life — he committed suicide by walking in front of a bus.

The End.

Moral: Don’t tempt fate.

That’s number three, already (sigh…). Well, number four is standing by. Number four can be my last. As long it isn’t the last one, ever. I mean… Maybe I’ll have at least five.

OUR OLD CAT has been walking the halls at night, moaning, with open volume. I moan, in return, so Calvin knows I’m here, and sometimes he will come to me — usually not.

Back in 2004, I found an add for Siamese cats. When I arrived to look, one male and one female remained from the litter. I got them both. Calvin came from that pair. His litter-mate, Norah, died a year ago.

Calvin shows no signs of illness or pain. He’s just alone and old, and it seems as if his moans are calls for Norah.

Memories of those who were alive, are not dead, so long as someone lives to remember. Yet, where have those who have died gone..?

Let’s pretend to be Calvin, and imagine this way…

There is a “now”. We sense it — the presence of being alive, now.

At this moment, when Calvin is alive, he senses that Norah might be alive, also, except for earlier circumstances. Had those circumstances been different, Norah would still be alive, now.

This moment would be fuller than it is, in a real sense, if circumstances had been different.

That difference is real. Where did it go..?

CONSOLIDATION OF THE WEAKER into the stronger is a natural phenomenon, wouldn’t you say..? Forces of consolidation seem to be at work presently among the world’s major civilizations: Western, Eastern, Islamic, and Chinese.  May the best civilization win, I like to say. 

Each spring, new growth on a tree can take place only where earlier growth has provided nodes attached to branches, and nowhere else. 

The same might be said of cultures, I was thinking, where cultural traditions allow growth, but only from available nodes. 

So, nature provides a quicker remedy, it would seem, when faster adaptation is needed, where weak can be swept up and consolidated into the strong.   

Q: What did you do today, my tree-fellow..?

A: I grew more of me.