HuntingWhen Og arose in the morning
he did not wake up to easy listening on his digital alarm clock. He did not put on camouflage to blend in, stay warm, but left the cave determined to find meat, or the clan didn’t eat. So when Joe citizen set out, this was not lower class machismo demonstrating maybe he couldn’t kill the boss, but he could take out frustration with a high-powered, 30-06, laser aimed, telescopic sight on overmatched animals who couldn’t shoot back It was hard to miss an unsuspecting deer not evolved enough to defend against death from afar. A young Masai had to kill a lion, only armed with a spear, to become a warrior, one of the fairest tests between man and beast throughout history. There were still plenty of lions, not too many Masai, so the balance of nature was not disrupted. Before refrigeration, preservation, canning, greedy men killed more and more, despite excessive waste and threw away what they could not eat, perhaps driven to slaughter by twisted natures. Once, every bit of the animal was used for survival food, fat, fur, hide. Then mighty hunters bloomed, toxic growth destroying life, and collected trophies, heads, horns, entire bodies, decorative elements enhancing the castle to molder on the walls, relics of forgotten triumphs over helpless creatures. Then sport hunting began and the heroic breed shot anything that moved, from far enough away so there was no real danger, just the illusion, titillating diminished psyches who thought it sport to shoot an elephant, minding its own business grazing in the distance. The modern hunter, catalog equipped, dresses his five year old son in identical camis, gives him a bb gun, then the great outdoorsman leads them on the trail, determined to teach the young one how to enjoy the thrill of the kill of diminishing species, unable to protect themselves from mindless assailants ConquerorsThe lust for conquest,
Mount Everest, Russia, illness, disease, the girl next door, efforts expended proportionately, ravenous appetites seldom sated. WarriorsI move through the jungle
cautiously, stealthily, alert for the slightest movement. Body tense, spear poised, I sniff the faint breeze trying to pick up a scent, sweat, meat, fear, anything that reveals the foe. A bush moves where it shouldn’t. I raise my spear, aim, throw. I move through the jungle, cautiously, stealthily, alert for the slightest movement. Body tense, rifle poised, I sniff the faint breeze trying to pick up a scent, sweat, cigarette, fear, anything that reveals the foe. A bush moves where it shouldn’t. I raise my rifle, aim, fire. My drone moves over the jungle hopefully unobserved, camera alert for movement. Body tense, joystick firm, I hover at 1500 feet eager to pick up a trace. A bush moves where it shouldn’t. I aim a missile, push a button, launch. |
Proportionate Response ☊Some of us believe
a fib, a little white lie is not a sin. And if it’s done in innocence it’s not a grievous fault, especially when it’s meant to spare the feelings of a sensitive loved one. Yet others insist the small lie is the seed of deception that grows into distortion, propaganda, brain-washing. So we use instructive adages, ‘Honesty is the best policy’, ‘It’s a sin to tell a lie’, to teach youngsters the value of truth, despite our living in a dishonest world. Path of GainRenunciation of desire
generates tranquility, disrupted when demands become overwhelming for mindless participation in the palace of acquisition, treasures beckoning temptation brandished by eunuchs of profit vending seduction, slavery, enchantment eliminated in the chambers of wanting. Dissolving SocietyHit and run drivers
proliferate, weapons of singular destruction. Shooting rampages escalate, outbursts of unregulated rage. Drive-bys accelerate, breakdowns of domestic tranquility. Foreign affairs dominate, showcases for Generals and diplomats. PrivilegeThe last days of summer
flicker hot and cool hinting of winter. Tickles of flying south make the birds grow new feathers. Leaves begin to fall quickly collected by busy men unwilling to nourish the earth. Homeowners fill their heaters. Even household pets, long subtracted from nature, grow more fur. Pleasures are departing except for the wealthy who sail away and purchase warm weather. Long PentConfined to my cell
in the dark prison of my heart, I endured for lifetimes, each day an anguish unrelieved by hope early extinguished by daily beatings. I could not escape relentless assault that banished my soul, devoured my dreams. Then my daughter was born. In the bright discovery of an unblemished life I was regenerated, rejoined humanity in a flood of feelings that melted the bars that kept me in isolation. Love entered my heart, demanding an end to bitter exile. PassageFollowing a hidden path
without footprints, breadcrumbs, trailmarkers, scars of passage, guidelines for the lost proceeding on blind faith an uncharted way that must be navigated, conditions of journey determined by fate, chance, ineffectual intervention affecting circumstance appraised in transit, resolved on arrival. |
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