Georgia

Tags

back on the chain gang, black white and grey, choices, don't get me wrong, epidemic, hegel, non-fiction, pandemic, pandemic of thoughts, the state of the world, the world, thoughts

Georgia

Yes, I got Georgia on my Mind because it’s significant and the song plays in the background as the US election results painfully unfold. So slow, so unnerving, but we must bear, and the winner will be announced before the next century.

This is where we have arrived now, the most powerful nation on planet Earth cannot decide who is the winner, while the grapevine grows and spreads words of conspiracy… Stealing, winning, losing, suing, etc.

Amid a worldwide pandemic, human or otherwise caused, we are at a standstill, waiting, waiting as to how our fates will unfold.

Hegel says, “thesis, antithesis, and synthesis.” White, black, and grey. We are familiar with the whites and blacks, but who is in the grey area? Who will win? The blacks, whites or the greys? Everyone knows the blacks and the whites. No one knows the greys, made up of all they agree from the synthesis of the whites and blacks. A little bow to the left and some to the right, while making their own synthesis. Will this work? Probably not, because people would rather think in black and white, than try to understand the shades.

Sorry America, sorry the World. We need to learn more, but it will take ages…Meanwhile, Back on the Chain Gang ….

Advertisement

Red Napkins – Corona Chronicles – Flash Non-Fiction

Tags

#StaysafeStayHome, amreading, amwriting, anxiety, brands, buying, choices, Corona Chronicles, death, flash non-fiction, greed, groceries, hoarding, household items, lessons, life, lifestyle, lockdown, mass manufacturing, modesty, Mother Earth, pollution, prudence, red napkins, shopping online, starvation, stocking, thoughts, virus

 

 

 

Red Napkins

 

While looking for tissues at an online supermarket, I come across my favourite red napkins. Two packs into the basket, I continue my virtual shopping. Going over the list, adding, deleting stuff, I complete the task and pay by card. My provisions for the lockdown replenished, the delivery due the following day, I resume my daily chores. Red napkins on my mind.

Why did I buy them? It’s not likely I’ll be inviting people to dinner in the near future. I like the colour, haven’t seen them on the shelves in the days I could visit the supermarket, and I can use them myself. Good excuses, but the cupboard is full of paper napkins in all the colours of the rainbow. Why not use them instead? Red napkins are prettier.

I’m not a panic shopper. I don’t stock things and have little room to store them. Yet, the question of what if  lingers at the back of my mind. Instead of buying one packet of hair dye, I buy two, an extra pack of cheese or two more cans of tuna fish. What if they run out of stock? It’s helping the economy, but depleting my budget.

Behind this hoarding tendency, lingers the anxiety of holding onto a lifestyle which may no longer exist. A variety of choices, favourites, brands that dominate our daily lives. Despite knowing this is not a matter of life and death, that the groceries or dry goods at home might last me at least three months, I worry about running out of stuff  I’m accustomed to buying. I won’t die of starvation, but my choices in the future might be limited.

The supermarket delivery arrives. I look at the red napkins and laugh at myself. I make a pledge not to buy any more until I use the ones at home. It dawns on me Mother Earth is suffering due to the mass manufacturing of this diverse merchandise and choices in the market, whether it’s  food, household items and chemicals, not forgetting clothes and accessories. Buy less, waste less, be inventive and creative. The lack of choices is not a death threat, but the virus is. I’m learning …

 

#StaySafeStayHome

 

 

 

 

Jeanne Moreau and Sam Shephard

Tags

actors, cinema, directors, Jeanne Moreau, loss, movies, playwright, RIP, SamShephard, stage, theatre

 

On my Instagram page, Jeanne Moreau and Sam Shephard gaze at each other. Her sad news came before his, on this last day of July 2017. She is talking on the phone, with a pensive look on her face, staring into the distance. He is watching her closely, to incorporate her character in one of his new plays. In the photos, hers in black and white, his in colour, she is younger than him. He was 73 when he died, last Thursday. She was 89, the same age as my departed mother.

I remember the black and white movies of my youth, mainly French and Italian, of the New Wave. She was the unpredictable protagonist, smoking Gauloises, in the dark stories. Her eyes and lips acted the part when she let them take over, instead of speaking.  A mysterious beauty whose acting talent has been endorsed in cinema and on stage over the years.

Sam Shephard, a soft spoken man, whose talent is deeper than his image in the movies. A Pulitzer Prize winning playwright, one who, as the New York Times says, captured the darker side of the American family life. A member of the Off Broadway movement. A  man who has crossed the borders.

Sam looks at Jeanne and studies her, remembering the many characters she’s played. He’s thinking about a new screenplay. She’s the protagonist, wild, sensuous, intriguing and mesmerizing.

Jeanne feels she’s being watched. She recognizes the man, the playwright, the director, the actor. She likes challenges, she likes change. “If he offers me a part, I’ll take it. But I’m too old,” she sighs.

Sam smiles. “The part is for an old lady, but a mischievous one.”

Truth

Tags

dishonesty, distortion, fake news, false news, greed, Internet, lies, media, politicians, post truth, power, truth, untruth

The new term post-truth has been disturbing my mind, lately. Post-truth, or past truth, passed truth, if there are such notions. Does truth have a past, present or a future tense? Does it expire? Or does it evolve, mutate or degenerate?

I would have thought there is only one truth, as written and proven in books. I don’t mean religious ones as they’re subject to interpretation. I’m referring to recorded data, evidence and observations. Proven statements, witness accounts, audio-visual recordings.

Post means after or later than. Like post-impressionism. It’s impressionism with a difference. So, post-truth must be truth with a difference. A new truth, an evolved one with further evidence, or one disguised with fabricated facts?

The opposite of truth is dishonesty. If I’m being dishonest, I’m probably lying, denying the truth, making excuses, giving and producing false evidence. So I’m hiding the truth, camouflaging it, transforming it into a monster like Frankenstein, creating a fantasy, an untruth.

I stand proudly behind my untruth, promote it through my followers who go along with me blindly because they feel safe under my leadership. My lie has no limits. It becomes my way of life. I conjure it in such detail and with such passion that it becomes my truth. My only truth. Everyone begins to doubt the previous version. The truth of the past becomes the lie of the present, perhaps of the future, too, if I organize my teams, supporters and heirs.

Post-truth, this is what I see all over the world. Passed around by politicians, bankers and all those in power, through the generous Internet networks and the media, we’re being fed small morsels of it every single day. It’s a slow poison, but the effects are deadly.