Most people, I suspect, think of the sun as a giant ball of fire; an inferno of condensed gas with flames burning hundreds of miles into space. I imagine they think of stars in the same way; just more distant than the sun. Actually, reading and remembering tell me, the sun and stars are self-sustaining reactors. They are fueled by their own nuclear fusion plasma reactors, not combustion. When I look up and see the sun or stars in the sky, I fantasize that—if I focus my all attention on them—I can hear the roar of the fusion reactions that feeds them. Of course, I cannot really hear that sound, nor can I see the sun’s flames licking the sky. My imagination, though, is not deterred by reality; countering reality helps sustain my creativity. The width and breadth and depth of the sky is so incomprehensibly vast that my imagination often feels stunted and dull and microscopically irrelevant in comparison. Nonetheless, I give whatever ingenuity that might reside in my brain free reign to try to achieve a touch of relevance and excitement. When I look into a clear night sky, I might think of stars as tiny, freshly-created fragments of blindingly bright and hot embers that emerged from the Big Bang. But that does not fully (or adequately) explain the enormous age differences between stars. It’s Magic.
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I woke ravenously hungry this today. I remain ravenously hungry, with a strong preference for Indian food. Soup is warming and healthy, so I might start with a bowl of sāmbār, along with masala dosa. Perhaps some palak paneer. And some piquant chutney alongside. Maybe some chana masala. SOOOO many other Indian dishes are appealing. I wonder how a vindaloo dish with tofu in lieu of a meat protein might be? I can think of all sorts of fusion cuisines that might be worth trying to create. For years, I’ve dreamt about trying to make Mexican/Indian fusion; like Lamb Vindaloo Tacos. And Chinese/Indian, like Gobi (cauliflower) Manchurian. And mash-ups with North African (e.g., Moroccan and Ethiopian). Thai and Japanese, maybe? This morning, though, I will try to be satisfied with a banana, an Ensure, and expresso, the current rut in which I’m stuck and for which I have only myself to blame.
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The outdoor temperature at 6:10 is 10°F. I am happy I do not live in a tent this morning.
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If I had grown up in a very different social/community environment, I might have created an alternative to religion; based in large part on philosophies including adherence to many of the same moral principles espoused by some religions. The behavioral standards that accompany those principles, too, would probably resemble behaviors endorsed by religions. Buddhism likely would be most similar to my alternative, but without the extraneous stuff…no elephants, no Brahma, no Chandra, no Ganesha, etc. I might have created an alternative authoritarian regime, too. Or, perhaps, instead.
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Civil unrest often starts small. Usually, it doesn’t last long. And usually it does not spread and become a powerful unifier of popular displeasure. But it happens. And it should. If I were younger and in better health—and much smarter than ever I have been—now would be the time to learn all I could from the successful resistance movements that developed before and during World War II. To the extent possible and most likely to work in the present day, processes and practices from those movements could be adopted and adapted and shared with reasonable, rational people throughout the land…and beyond. If only. Such an embarrassingly weak excuse for allowing civil society to be converted into a modern-day version of the Confederacy, in which the number of slave-holders has diminished and the number of cruel, stupid, and undeservedly proud warring serfs and slaves has exploded.
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