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Memories are funny animals; they travel and traverse endless miles of countless eternities, over fences artificially constructed and through tunnels built within the deep caverns of one’s mind; and in the end, they represent only a slice of accuracy in the whole of what really happened. Sometimes, even after decades of being together with a “significant other”, […] Read More …
We come upon it, and it sits gleaming with partial concealment in the tall grass beyond the river’s edge. Whose was it? Was it a child who threw it, or a parent, grandparent, or maybe even a sibling? Did the child search for it, or was it forgotten soon after a futile search in directions otherwise unaccounted for? Was there a party gathered, a picnic prepared and a blanket covered upon the grassy knoll; and were gloves included in the melee? Was there laughter rumbling through the forest beyond, slowly dissipating in voices joyfully warmth in the sunlight of mumblings incomprehensible and lost among the groves of wildlife hidden behind and beyond? […] Read More …
Rash acts rarely reward with corresponding clarity; it is in the very thoughtlessness which denotes the chasm between man’s vaunted rationality and the capacity for folly. In the end, the very idea of throwing caution to the wind shows the precursor of a necessary posit: In which direction is the wind blowing? For, if what is thrown is rebounded right back, like a boomerang designed to be handed back to its originator, then what use was the initial act? Even acts which appear to be based upon folly, youthful exuberance or momentary madness, must by fiat declare itself as predisposed to prior deliberation; […] Read More …
Perhaps we engaged in it as children: making sure to skip over the jagged cracks in the sidewalk; turning suddenly in the opposite direction, believing that fate and determinism would be defied if an unexpected act were to be embraced; and later, the purchase of a lottery ticket, or to become more seriously addicted to gambling. Chance provides the thrill of the unknown; but it need not rise to the level of daily obsessions in order to be caught in the delicate web of its enchantments; […] Read More …
Remember those old films, of silence, submarines and sonars (an acronym we have forgotten from the combination of terms, SOund, Navigation And Radar)? There were those tense moments of complete silence, where heartbeats and perspiration could be palpably heard when life and death depended upon it, and the moment when someone coughed or dropped an object at the crucial moment; then, the sudden entrance of old Navy footage of depth charges being flung like spitballs from a rubber band, splashing into the ocean, then the angst of awaiting the slow sinking until the violent detonation of that camera-shaking explosion. […] Read More …