Friday, April 13, 2007

Poem for Friday

By Kurt Vonnegut

The crucified planet Earth,
should it find a voice
and a sense of irony,
might now well say
of our abuse of it,
"Forgive them, Father,
They know not what they do."

The irony would be
that we know what
we are doing.

When the last living thing
has died on account of us,
how poetical it would be
if Earth could say,
in a voice floating up
from the floor
of the Grand Canyon,
"It is done."
People did not like it here.


Posted in many places yesterday but worth repeating anyway. I'm not one of those people whose life was changed by reading Vonnegut; I'm not sure if I was caught between generations to some extent, already taking for granted things that were innovations when he did them, or if his world view and mine were just too different, but he was an amazing writer and allegorist and there are too few voices like his.

I did not know except via a handful of comments exchanged long ago -- our fannish circles never quite overlapped -- but I am sorry for her family and friends and for all the life she won't have a chance to live.

Once again I am Too Damn Tired To Move [TM] and it's not even 10:30 as I type this. Had a nice day, got some things done like lots of photo cropping and uploading plus I sorted my souvenirs for people. Had lunch with at Macaroni Grill, went shopping at Target for some necessities and a few frivolous things, tried to catch up on fannish news and realized I actually don't want to understand what set off the latest SGA kerfluffle. Wish I lived in the UK so I could be properly obsessed with Doctor Who but it's hard getting it delayed and anyway I'm sure I'd manage to say something politically incorrect about Martha at some point. My kids love it, at least, though I had to insist on not playing with remote control Dalek when I supervised younger son and his best friend's homework. Saw my mother for awhile, tried to make a dent in a stack of e-mails, had pizza for dinner because we were too lazy to come up with anything else.

Am contemplating the fact that in two weeks overseas, despite changing weather patterns, knocked-off sleep patterns, pollen and schlepping and eating at weird hours and that time of the month, I never got a migraine, and am thinking I seriously need to note whenever I eat anything with corn in it in any form. I was very aware that everything I ate there, from Kelloggs bran cereal in the morning to Nestle chocolate at night, was missing the corn syrup we get in every mass food product and lots of restaurants, and while I have never had a consistent pattern with headaches in terms of what I eat, that might be because I get corn in so many things I don't even think to check the labels or ingredients for.

Here are some more photos from Glastonbury's Chalice Well. This is the pool at the lower end of the complex into which the water flows.

Another example of the Vesica Piscis in the stones near the entryway.

The waterfall in King Arthur's Courtyard.

The "thrones" in the garden.

There were several people praying or meditating around the well itself.

Glastonbury Tor from inside the garden.

Have comments I was supposed to answer, e-mails I was supposed to send, phone calls I was supposed to make, work I was supposed to get finished, laundry I was supposed to fold and stuff I was supposed to read, but it's not going to happen tonight. Hey, if you have news, leave me a comment, pretty please? Happy Friday the 13th!

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