Mbah Surip, Rendra, dan Gus Dur: Pelajaran untuk Arsitektur (Lesson for ...

RESOLUSI JIHAD NAHDLATUL ULAMA 1945 : Sejarah Yang Dilupakan

surat dari tahun 2070.flv

Obviously there are instances where physical swords are currently and have been throughout history wielded unwisely, for reasons I do not write in this blog about, it does not contain a personal opinion about fighting, combat, or war.  Also, I do not deny the potential negative impact of war metaphor (with adults and especially with children) nor do I deny the positive (with children, especially with adults).  I do not intend to outline a debate on just war. With all political indignation, pacifism, and Freudian analysis aside, I wrote this here bit, inspired by my nephew.  Please read it.


I was catching up on some vids stored on my cellular telephone.  One in particular I watched several times over.  It was one I had shot weeks back somewhat nonchalantly, while checking the old missed call/text log on a Sunday afternoon.   Nephew (Brady) was running around while I was circulating with my feet planted in the grass, legs wrapped around a daisy (green plastic disk in shape of daisy petals) at the end of a rope hung from a ficus (benjamina) limb.   Nephew was running in circles trying to catch me with a sword in hand.  All thewhile, he was insisting on what I couldn’t gather until he tripped, became aggravated, and I finally stopped laughing, circling away from him, at last listening to what he had to say.

 “You need a sword,” he said

“Why?” I asked, somewhat befuddled, defiant.

“Because, you need to fight,” he stated, matter of fact'ly.

Tree’s leaves are green.  Green jello has pears in it (and a lil’ cottage cheese).  And, you need a sword [Uncle Alan] because you need to fight.  He didn’t actually state the former two Sunday afternoon truths, but as I watched the vid and pondered his logic, the one statement he made outright seemed to most obviously follow the two that I had fabricated.  What I mean is, the first reason why I was enraptured by the vid, and what I cherish about my nephew Brady or any/every child for that matter, is the simplicity behind their reasoning.  In other words, there were no secondary arguments to defend his primary insistence upon my needing a sword.  There was one reason, “because you need to fight.”  Period.   

The second reason I loved this vid was due to the direct connection in Brady's mind with a sword as an object, and fighting, an action.  He doesn’t necessarily yet understand the makeup of a traditional sword, how metal as a state of matter can be malleable, shapeable, hardening, temperature permitting, potentially with sharpened edges, for practical use when whittling, dicing vegetables (or fruits), or in hand-to-hand combat.  He doesn’t yet understand that in this world we don’t always get our way and if/when we absolutely must get our way for certain reasons, say defense of justice, protection of peace (purposefully vague, subject to interpretation), or to obtain certain items that we are in no way capable of obtaining without fighting it away from some other body…or does he understand these things?  Regardless of whether he does or not comprehend why we fight, and at that with a sword, he remains a child (capable of err and very soon capable of accountability but not yet as far as I’m a judge of such things (though he talks extremely well for a massive two year old bulldozer)).  And as a child, with tears he forced a sword into his Uncle’s hands, mine, and told me I needed it because I need to fight.  Agreed.  I do, I strongly believe that I do.  I need a sword because I need to fight.  Period.

Finally, in life there are those who go through it all for all the reasons they are told to go through it all and there are those who put a foot down, have a long thought on the potential good that can arise when minds' give sway to heart, when ideas are really thought out, and money gets put where the mouth is, and dear mosses when pages get torn out of “my mother’s hymn book” (feast in heaven, john r. cash) and voice boxes start tintabulating like all God-given gumption, “in his love abiding, and in him confiding, just like a tree that’s planted by the water, I shall not be moved.”  Period.

You need a sword because you need to fight.  Period.  Well said Brady.

Mid Week Thoughts or The Best and The Worst

 Wandering this thing called life. 

What an adventure it can be.

 I have the best and the worst.

 My days are filled with the youthfulness of my new love, Jodie Isabella.

 I think of her and what she needs.

 She has brought the joy back to our home. 

We were sad as can be over here. 

Darkness covered our days and nights.

 She has opened our souls to the brightness that was hiding.

 She brings the thoughts of possibilities. 

In doing this, she also reminds me of how old I am.

 The what if's come to me. I worry about the cats health.

 They are getting older.

 My other dog, Maddy Jean, is almost nine.

 What would Jodie do without her. 

What would Maddy Jean now do without Jodie.

 Jodie has brought Maddy Jean back.

 Not that she was gone but she was so sad.

 Now, she plays all day in between naps.

 Me, I'm trying to keep up. 

Acting like I'm in my thirty's or forty's, only I'm not.

 I finally had to go to the not so popular Dr.'s office.

 Not the mini clinic like I normally do.

 And, by normally I mean when I have to.

 Nope, my old damage body had demanded that I visit with the professionals who ask all sort of questions. Always the shock of being in a coma and sepsis.

 Question after question. I

 guess they are surprised to have me just mention it like it was a cold or a previous broken arm. 

Not that big a deal. 

Yes, it happened and now let's talk about what I came in for. 

Do they ever want to run tests on me. 

Oh, the joys of getting old.

So, there you have the best and the worst. The possibilities are endless.

 So, I will enjoy my freshness and wait to hear what those professionals have in store for me.

 Nothing like being tested on .. been there and done that. 

Oh, and the weather .. it's rainy wet out with snow arriving soon.

 And, again I think .. the good and the bad. 

I will play in it and driving to puppy class will be hell.

Fish

Fish: Add a touch of nature to your page with these hungry little fish.  Watch them as they follow your mouse hoping you will feed them by clicking the surface of the water.

That''s Demoralization

Today I participated in an annual ritual that is perhaps among the most hated activities in my life: swimsuit shopping. My mother is an excellent seamstress, and yet even she struggles to craft the perfect suit. With this knowledge in mind, I find it peculiar that the modern American fashion industry has chosen to populate the market with what can only be described as village idiots. My angst has less to do with my physique than it has to do with the impossibility of adequately addressing simple things like torso length. Note to swimsuit designers: it is not beyond the realm of possibility that a women would be both tall and thick. I found a plethora of suits that were wider in the hips & bust - and yet the length of the torso either left my breasts or my bum utterly exposed. I find this unacceptable for family vacations. Additionally - those of us who have surpassed the median American height of 5'5" are not all plagued by eating disorders. I found a number (albeit a lesser number than the thick suits) of long-torso suits, each of which may have nicely covered a thigh, but little more. I also think it's inconceivably rude that there is precious little variation in age-appropriate swimsuits. The aforementioned idiots must have failed to observe that there are several stages of life, stylistically speaking, between puberty and menopause. Tours through Old Navy, Target, Kohls, Macy's, among other venues failed to reveal any concept of transitional ages. I can only assume that the designers, in their infinite wisdom, have learned that by the end of the shopping experience a woman will be worn into utter haggard, premature aging and thusly identify with the matronly suits that are slight degrees removed from a floral burqa. Anyway, stay tuned for another post on how I was re-moralized by a fantastic week! Until soon lovely readers.......