Nothing is impossible. The planet on which we live could split in half, hemorrhaging molten lava from its open wound and wrecking the stability we’ve come to expect from Earth’s chaotic behavior. The Perseid Meteor Shower might surprise us during its August 11-12 peak this year, raining down massive, burning boulders that night and bringing an end to Earth as we once knew it. Time itself could come to a sudden and violent end one day around dusk, leaving in its wake a void in which “before” and “after” and “noon” and “6:45 p.m.” are meaningless noises uttered by maniacs and the misguided. Everything is possible. Nothing is impossible. Humankind has as much control over the universe as an amoeba has over the orbital path of stars in this monstrous place we call the Milky Way. Any claims we make to power are contrivances based on lies. We do not act; we simply react. We respond to external stimuli in the same way moths respond to flames; we circle the allure of fire until we shrivel into dehydrated hulks.
None of this is meant to be judgmental, though. It is what it is. Life and its obverse control everything, including us.
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Last night, we listened to the Hot Springs Concert Band play music from a number of musicals. The Sound of Music, Phantom of the Opera, Music Man, etc., etc. It was an enjoyable evening; light and happy are two words that might best describe the evening. A friend who plays in the band was happy to see us in the audience and we were impressed that such a diverse gathering of potential misfits could produce such appealing sounds. Interesting, that.
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I’m not sure whether it was a dream or something I read; whatever it was raised questions: Why is diversity so valued? What does diversity “bring to the table?” “Why do we (progressives and liberals, at least) so value diversity?” At first, the questions angered me. “What the hell do you mean questioning the value of diversity?!” But, then, I realized the question is legitimate. And if we cannot individually and collectively give reasoned, valid responses, we should stop using the argument in favor of diversity as a progressive crutch. However, I can say with considerable confidence that diversity is, indeed, good. It exposes us to alternate realities. It shows us what we are, by showing what we are not. It strengthens the breadth and depth of our knowledge. It chastens us and causes us to realize ours is not necessarily the best “way.” Diversity reflects the planet on which we dwell and the universe we inhabit. If we asked what we value about diversity, we might as well ask “why can’t we be satisfied with iron, alone, instead of having to acquaint ourselves with all those other metallic elements?”
Yet the question deserves more than flippant answers. It deserves consideration. It merits a full and complete mental assessment, followed by an explanation that is more than sweet porridge and cold milk. We who value diversity should be able to express the reasons for our appreciation of the circumstance clearly and unequivocally. Maybe I’ll think more on the topic soon. Maybe I will attempt to articulate the arguments in favor of diversity…diversity as a general state of being, not necessarily diversity as simply an expression of skin tones and sexual conditions and position in the social strata.
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Why are so many subjects simply taboo? Why is it considered rude or at least impolite to discuss bathroom habits at the dining table? Why do we avoid asking questions about neighbors’ preferences for various sex positions? Why are questions about the circumstances leading up to, and the manner of, death of a friend or relative considered so utterly heartless and insensitive?
It’s not like we pretend the unspoken topics of conversation mean the subjects of avoided discussion do not take place. If we were as open and as outspoken as we sometimes think we are, we would have no trouble approaching a friend in church on a Sunday morning, saying, “Hello, Charlotte, I noticed you and Anders left the party early last night; did you go have sex? How was it? Would you mind describing the entire process to me, from foreplay to climax and beyond?” Admittedly, I would find those questions hard to ask, if for no other reason than I do not know a Charlotte, nor an Anders. But, really, why have we chosen to surround certain topics with secrecy and taboo? Sex, death, and bodily functions seem almost universally unmentionable. I just don’t understand. And even if I did, I would forget and I would ask the question over and over again. Because no explanation is a particularly good one. We might as well pick another topic to avoid at random: “There will be no mention of hair color or pocket knives in this house!”
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I just stumbled upon a “to-do” list I wrote several weeks ago. I was grateful to see so many items marked off, but disappointed that several remain, including: “explore options for sky room glass selection…” and “explore treadmills.” Also, “measure and order screen and spline for screened-in porch” remains undone. There are others, though some have been intentionally delayed. But the ones that have simply gone undone are annoying. I get annoyed at myself pretty easily. And I stay peeved at me for quite a while. I’m still upset with myself for things I did or did not do in 2019 and 2020. I hold personal grudges against myself that only I can address through mediation. The best solution to this unpleasant set of circumstances is to complete the items on my to-do list and keep the list up to date. I will try that next time. Next time? There should be no next time.
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It’s happened again. I’ve spilled random words all over the screen and have failed to connect them in any coherent fashion. That’s the way I roll, of late. I’m afraid my thought processes are going off in uncharted territories.
