Listen, I know I’m supposed to be
doing homework, and I’ll get to that in just a few minutes; if you know, then you know I
simply have to write. You see the thing is that there is this remarkable glow
outside; I’m almost always working when the day becomes a spinning loom of
vibrant blonde, and today I was lucky enough to be allowed off work a few hours
early. I will perhaps go back to
work after I complete this pressing schoolwork—in any event, actions.
Yesterday
Venus passed over the face of the sun for the last time in our century. It will
be the twenty-second century before she appears again. I looked, and even created a pinhole
camera to view the sun with safely.
Alas, Dayton Ohio’s spotty clouding and my relentless need to work had
my observation relegated to the experience of speaking with a friend about it,
downloading an app that told me the time it was passing over based on my
location (on my twenty-first century ‘smartphone’) and finally watched it on
the local weather on my twenty-first century television and cable system.
Today
is the rest of our century; we will never see Venus in the same way.
Isn’t
it the same truth for every moment? My Madness speaks of this in its second
chapter. “Every moment is a
funeral and a birthday.” – 2:2
The
next set of people that want to see it but can’t, will have their own ways of
experiencing it, and we will live with them. It is remarkable how naked we are and how little we have to
lose—the trick really is that we don’t have a damn thing to lose. Life has no prescriptive method towards
itself in the same way psychologically that it does fundamentally in the
psychical world. The fact that we
need water is not the same as we need success, especially considering how much
more complex the simple emotion of satisfaction is.
So too, the conception of ideal as
defined by our current Western culture—and predominate majority of
international media—and as such, its definition of success is fundamental only
to its particular context; even if the current context is reviewing an
aggregate of other reviews—the language contains the code to be broken, and the
actions must come first.
What is really amazing to me, here in the final spinning gold of the day after yesterday, is that when lazy Venus again dances where we can see; when she again seems to seductively graze the surface of our solar systems sun, on that day, she'll be very similar to who she is today, and we'll be nothing; and while we're nothing, she'll hold the same face, the same slow crawl, the same promise to appear in a pair (last time she was visible to us was 2004) and then disappear to another place until our century catches up. That far out, they'll never know us, they couldn't, only what it seems like to them from the perspective they see their history--and who knows if we'll even be in there? Venus though, she'll be there, watching them, waiting for them to fade into the solid past. Eventually the sun will eat everything and then let loose it's swelling storehouse of hydrogen and helium, the solar system colder, and a planet sized diamond where once our source of energy was.
Pray that we be bold. My Madness
speaks of this in its first chapter, in the first section, and in fact in the
first slot of apothegms. “Be.” Madness 1:1
Pray
that we go and do likewise. We have only dreams to lose. The world is our
crucible; we may enjoy the martyrdom or die in agony.
