Many years on Thanksgiving I find myself distressed.Don’t get me wrong, I’m thankful for all the good things in my life—and they are more than I regularly stop to count—but life has a way of tossing reality bombs into the mix.This year, though, there is much for which I’m feeling particularly grateful.Family and friends foremost.Fairly good health and a day or two off work.These are all wonderful.This year gave us a couple more great gifts: the rejection of a leader who always and only thought of himself and convinced millions that he cared for their interests and beliefs.A “leader” who refused to acknowledge defeat but just this week began a transition that should’ve begun nearly three weeks ago.Many are inexpressibly thankful for this.
Although on a much smaller scale, I’m thankful for Nightmares.Nightmares with the Bible, that is.Although it’s expensive (I’ll thankfully give a discount code to all askers), it is with a publisher that will promote it better than Holy Horror.It was a very pleasant surprise to receive the book before Thanksgiving, even with its Halloweenish theme.Anyone who puts years of their life into a project knows the gratitude in seeing it come to fruition.Nightmares was a labor of love and I hope all who venture to read it will be thankful that they did.I know I”m grateful for having lots of other book ideas.That’s one area where there’s a substantial surplus.
Like many people I’m becoming aware of the dark under-narrative to the American Thanksgiving myth.What we were presented in state-sanctioned school curricula was a story of grateful pilgrims wanting to share abundance with the American Indians.History shows that their motivations in colonizing were actually subjugation and making slaves of the indigenous people, something we now recognize as a form of evil.Such lessons are difficult to learn as an adult when the holiday has so many happy, cozy memories associated with it.We have just been through four years of national chaos in which “othering” became a wedge intended to fracture the fragile unity of this country.Yes, the guilt is real.We cannot, or at least should not, deny what history reveals about our motives.Instead we should widen our tables.Invite others to join us. (Virtually this year.) And be truly thankful for the many good things—some very large, and others very small—which we have.
Daylight Saving Time has begun.Or ended, I can never keep track of which.All I know is that when I’m supposed to being enjoying another hour abed my mind wakes up at the usual time on a weekend only to find it’s even earlier than I’m accustomed to.I ceased being able to sleep in when the commuting life began.From where we lived in New Jersey I had to catch a bus well before 6 a.m. daily to get to New York.Doing this for seven years set a pattern that I still find impossible to break and so I keep apologizing to my associates that no, I can’t attend evening meetings.The morning after I can’t sleep in.And then we change the clocks.
Many of us are creatures of habit.Twice a year we needlessly disrupt our routines so we can “save daylight.”What difference does it make when you’re staring at a screen all the time anyway?Now it gets dark even earlier in the evening.Well, that part I don’t mind so much.I feel less abnormal when it’s dark as I get ready for bed.An hour isn’t enough, however, to make it light when I awake.The daylight will now last about as long as work does.We’ve entered the darker half of the year.Of course, yesterday was Halloween and we’re now facing All Saints and All Souls and el Día de los Muertos.These are not all the same thing, for religion is very good at parsing things.Still, who can help but suppress a yawn?
We’re supposed to be well rested but in reality we’re disoriented.I’ve read that congress has been trying for years to make Daylight Saving Time permanent.This has bipartisan support, but politicians, being what they are, keep on inserting riders that the other side doesn’t like so we continue the pointless ritual.I know writers who stay up late to dedicate time to their craft.Since I’m awake early I guess I’m simply picking up where they’re leaving off.There are few interruptions at 2:00 a.m.Soon, I know, I’ll get back into the swing of things and I’ll eventually be able to sleep in to three.Then when March rolls around the gatekeeper will demand toll.We’ll lose that hour we were so freely given last night.But some of us will be tired all the time anyway.
Halloween seems especially portentous this year.Some of us thrive in this introduction to what was a major set of Christian holidays that encompassed many pagan traditions.The lynchpin was All Saints Day (All Hallows), which in good Christian fashion upheld its favorite sons (and a few daughters) to remind the rest of us what a sorry lot of humanity we are.Followed by the more democratic All Souls Day where the vestments went from white to black, it was preceded by Halloween.Through mostly Celtic additions from Samhain, the first of the three days became decidedly spooky and came to be a commercial holiday.There’s more to it than that, of course, but we all know Halloween.
This year a number of other phenomena are converging on today.Not only is it a full moon, but a famed blue moon—the second full moon this month.It feel like something could happen.And if that weren’t exciting enough the powers that be have decided to end Daylight Saving Time tonight (well, technically tomorrow morning).And Tuesday is the most importation election day in the history of our nation, when we decide whether to retain democracy or become a monarchy.Seems like a strange confluence of phenomena.Meanwhile, outdoors a pandemic rages and some locations have had early snowfalls.The last of what had been Hurricane Zeta blew through here yesterday.Who needs Halloween to be scared?
For some years I’ve been contemplating the spirituality of Halloween.We live in a death-denying culture while knowing full well we all die.Halloweenhas become a holiday when we can think about it openly.Pretend we’re someone/something we’re not.Perhaps, if we’re lucky, we might learn something from it.It has become a boon for horror films, but they’ve been successfully spread through the rest of the year as well.There’s plenty to be frightened of in July and January too.Still, there’s something about Halloween.Some of my earliest memories are of this particular holiday.Poor as we were, we always had costumes for the day.I remember sitting on the school bus, wearing a mask, thinking that nobody knew who I was, and I could really be the hero or villain that my costume suggested that year.Now we wear masks all the time and we’re frightened every day.Halloween is coming along with a blue moon this year.There must be some significance to that.
It’s a chilling thought.An article in the New York Times said it, but we were all thinking it.Snow days may well have become another victim of Covid-19.No, it’s not snowing yet (but give climate change a chance!), but New York City schools have figured out that if students can learn from home then one of the truly treasured memories of our youth may no longer be necessary.In fact, snow days ended for me when I began working remotely.My supervisor had suggested, even before that, that I take my company laptop home daily, in case of inclement weather.The idea of awaking, wonder-eyed, at the world covered in white—that cozy feeling of knowing you had no obligations for the day but to enjoy the pristine world out your window—is a thing of the past.
Technology has changed our lives, and some of it is even for the better.It hasn’t made work easier for some of us, but has made it longer.We used to talk about kids and their continuous partial attention, but now work is always at home with you and that time signature on your email says something about your work habits.As the days are now shorter than the nights, as they will be for six more months, finding the time to do what you must outdoors (it may be cooler, but lawns still insist on growing) is always a bit more of a challenge.And when the snow does fall you’ll still have to shovel the walk.All time has become company time for a truly linked-in world.
The real victim here, it seems to me, is childhood.Snow days were a reminder that no matter how strict, how Calvinistic our administrators wanted to be, the weather could still give us a smile now and then.A legitimate excuse not to have to go to school and, if parents couldn’t get you to daycare, a day off for everyone.The strict number of limited holidays allotted by HR had limited power in those days.Although we all know that well-rested, happy workers tend to do better jobs than those who are constantly stressed out and who have trouble sleeping, we’ve now got the means to make the sameness of pandemic life the ennui of everyday life, in saecula saeculorum.Thanks, internet.At least now we work where we have a window and can look out on nature and can see what we’re missing.
It’s a measure of how busy I am when Banned Book Week has started before I realize it.Most years I make it a point to read a banned book at this time, but my reading schedule is so crowded that I seem to have missed the opportunity this year—I didn’t see it coming. I’ve read a great number of the top 100 banned books over the years, and I’m sure I’ll read more.I’ve recently been reading about America’s troubled history with free expression.Probably due to a strong dose of Calvinism combined with Catholicism, many of the books challenged and banned, as well as prevented from ever seeing the light of day, have to do with bodily functions.Sex, especially.In American society, as freely as this is discussed, we still have a real problem when someone writes about it.
Why might that be so?Many religions recognize the privacy aspect of sexuality without condemning the phenomenon itself.The Bible (which is on the list of Banned Books) talks of the subject pretty openly and fairly often.Our hangups about it must be post-biblical, then.Much of it, I suspect, goes to Augustine of Hippo.Although he had a wild youth, Augustine decided that nobody else should be able to do so guilt free, and gave us the doctrine of original sin.Add to that the legalistic interpretation of Paul and his school, and soon the topic itself becomes difficult to address.Victorian values, obviously, played into this as well.Literature, which explores every aspect of being human, is naturally drawn to what is a universal human drive.
Banned Books also treat race—another topic that haunts America—or use coarse language.Some challenge religious holy grails, such as special creation or Christian superiority.It seems we fear our children being exposed to ideas.The wisdom of such banning is suspect.The publishing industry has many safeguards in place to create age-appropriate literature.Banning tends only to increase interest by casting the “forbidden” pall over something that is, in all likelihood, not news to our children.American self-righteousness tends to show itself in many ways, making much of the rest of the world wonder at us.We seem so advanced, but we fear a great number of rather innocuous books.The reasons are similar to those behind why we can support tax-cheating, womanizing, narcissists as leaders: our faith blinds us.I may be late in getting to my banned book this year, so I guess I’ll just have to read two next time.
With all that’s been happening lately—as 2020 shudders along—we find ourselves at the equinox.For some of us the weather has already been unseasonably cool, feeling like mid-October rather than September.It stands as a reminder that the wheel of nature continues to turn, despite human foibles and plans.Some trees have begun to sense the change and have started their winter fast while others keep their green to suck the last possible sugar from the sun.Days have been getting shorter since late June, of course, but now the drama will increase until the winter solstice has us in the dark for much of the time.It all depends on where you live, but for me the temperate zones have always been home.
I suspect our various predilections toward the oughtness of the world depend in large measure on what we experienced in childhood. I knew winter before I ever experienced summer and the transitional seasons have always been my favorites. The idea that we can take more time and reflect, it seems to me, mirrors what happens in autumn. It’s cooler, so we spend time indoors a bit more. Some years that doesn’t kick in until later, when the heat is on and there’s a coziness to a house that’s been left to nature’s fever all summer. Windows are shut and locked. Artificial warmth reminds us that we can find some solace inside. Meanwhile the trees show us the proper way to face harsh conditions, and yet half a year from now we’ll be eagerly watching for buds. The Celts, temperate zone dwellers, thought of this change as the wheel of the year, slowly turning.
From where I sit in my study, with south and west-facing windows, I watch the path of the sun.Having worked in a cubicle with no outside windows for years, I was always disoriented at the end of the day.Now I can watch and begin to understand.The difference is really striking if you have a single place from which to watch it unfold.The sun is so much higher in the sky in July that it’s evident we’ve entered a new phase now.Instead of being overhead at noon, the shining orb rolls more to the south, sending blinding rays directly through my window.When it reaches the west (where it will, before long, sink before touching that window) I know the work day is over.It’s no wonder our ancient ancestors kept this transition with holidays we’ve long sacrificed to capitalism.I can still, however, see the changes and appreciate them for what they are.
Although you can buy most anything from Amazon, the book industry is particularly under its hegemony.I have to admit that I enjoy browsing there, and often dream of the books on my wishlist.I suppose that’s why I was pleased to see that Nightmares with the Bible is now available for preorder on Amazon.I like to give updates for those interested, and the proofs have just arrived.There’s kind of an inevitability to seeing your book on Amazon, a prophecy almost.It now exists out there somewhere on the internet.I do hope that it might stir some interest in Holy Horror, but like that book it will miss its sweet spot of a release before Halloween.That means it also misses the fall catalogue.The next one comes in spring, and who’s thinking of horror then?Something all publishers of horror-themed books know is that minds turn toward these topics in September and October.Just look at the seasonal sections of stores.
Horror films come out all year long, of course.Halloween, however, serves as an economic lynch pin.People spend money on being afraid in the early fall.By mid-November thoughts have moved on to the holiday season and the bright cheer of Christmas.Holy Horror arrived days after Christmas two years ago, and although I was delighted to see it, I knew we’d missed the boat for promotion and by the time it was nearing the backlist at the next Halloween it was old news.That doesn’t dampen my enthusiasm for the books, of course.It just means they won’t get the attention they might have had.
Nightmares with the Bible is about demons.Primarily demons in movies, but also a bit of a history of how they develop.There’s a lot of academic interest in the topic at this point in time, so hopefully it will get checked out of academic libraries that will make up its primary home.According to Amazon you get five dollars off the exorbitant price if you order it there.Although it’s standard practice in the industry, I’ve always disagreed with “library pricing.”It comes from presses publishing too many books, I suspect.Since few of them are pay dirt they have to recoup their costs by overcharging for the rest.Nightmares with the Bible is reader friendly.It’s non-technical and, I hope, fun to read.Amazon seems excited about it (it’s an illusion, I know, but one for which those of us who do this kind of thing live), and is happy to take preorders.Have your library order one, and if you do, be sure to check it out.
I can remember when Labor Day was about honoring workers.I suppose it still is, in some circles.At the top, however, the strategy is to give all the breaks to the wealthy and convince those they exploit that it’s for their own good.In as far as Trump has a playbook, this is on page 1.All around the community I see poor, exploited people with Trump signs on their houses.And they’re big.Great.Never been bigger signs.The policies he’s enacted, however, have taken money from their pockets and lined those of the wealthy.Why do you think he refuses to share his tax records?Tax fraud is a crime.If you’re a laborer, anyway.
I grew up working class and I still think that way.I’m skeptical, though.I don’t take anyone’s word for it.That’s what happens when you become a professional researcher.Looking at actions instead of words is most instructive.As my step-father used to tell us, “Do as I say, not as I do.”Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain.Just let him pick your pocket and tell you he’s been on your side all along.Can Labor Day be anything other than a lie under such circumstances?The American aristocracy has both a firm grip and tax incentives not to improve the lot of those who are barely getting by.And yet we take a day off and pretend that everything’s fine.
Polls repeatedly show that those in power have no idea of the realities of the lives of the working class.They can’t name the price of a loaf of bread and, especially in the present day, don’t care to.Many people in the United States fear socialism.Ironically, many of them are “Christians” who completely ignore the socialism of the book of Acts.Early believers, the Good Book says, pooled their resources and shared everything out equally.It’s a pity it didn’t last.Nations with socialized medicine—the only humane way to live—have handled the pandemic better than those that rely on health insurance at the same time its own government is trying to dismantle the only plan that would cover everyone.Why do we find it so hard to care for the workers?Maybe this Labor Day we can stop and think for a little while where we’d be without those who actually keep things going.And maybe in November we’ll vote to help them out.
What Labor Day used to be; courtesy Wikimedia Commons
Summer vacation—or at least what used to be known as summer vacation—is winding down.Unlike most years when the season is marked by a carefree sense of time off and travel, many of us spent it locked down while the Republicans have used revisionist history on the pandemic, claiming against all facts that America handled it best.Is it any wonder some of us turned to horror to cope?My latest piece in Horror Homeroom has just appeared (you can read it here).It’s on the movie Burnt Offerings.The movie is set in summer with its denouement coming just as vacation time ends.I’ve written about it here before, so what I’d like to mull over just now is transitions.The end of summer is traditionally when minds turn to hauntings.
Doing the various household repairs that summer affords the time and weather for, I was recently masked up and in Lowe’s.Although it was only mid-August at the time, Halloween decorations were prominent.Since this pandemic—which the GOP claims isn’t really happening—has tanked the economy, many are hoping that Halloween spending (which has been growing for years) will help.My own guess is that plague doctor costumes will be popular this year.Unlike the Christmas decorations that we’ll see beginning to appear in October (for we go from spending holiday to spending holiday) I don’t mind seeing Halloween baubles early.There is a melancholy feel about the coming harvest and the months of chill and darkness that come with it.Burnt Offerings isn’t the greatest horror film, but it captures transitions well.(That’s not the focus of the Horror Homeroom piece.)
Many of us are wondering how it will all unfold.Some schools have already opened only to close a week or two later.Those in Republican districts are sacrificing their children (this is the point of the Burnt Offerings piece) in order to pretend that 45’s fantasy land is the reality.The wheels of the capitalist economy have always been greased with the blood of workers.(Is it any wonder I watch horror?)As I step outside for my morning jog I catch a whiff of September in the air, for each season has its own distinct scent.I also know that until the situation improves it will likely be the last I’ll be outdoors for the day.It has been a summer of being cooped up and, thankfully, we’ve had movies like Midsommar and Burnt Offerings to help us get through.
Something truly remarkable happened this week.The Society of Biblical Literature, which, along with the American Academy of Religion, meets annually in November, has canceled its in-person meeting.I’ve been attending this conference since 1991 (with a few years off for good behavior).It always meets the weekend before Thanksgiving, stretching to the Tuesday prior.Some academics use the meeting to have an exotic Thanksgiving break with their families, particularly when it congregates someplace warm.(It was scheduled for Boston this year.)So I’m ruminating what this will mean for a year of missing markers.Some of you may recall I missed two years ago, electing to stay in Newark Airport instead, but this is different.We’re all being changed by this virus.
Missing markers. That’s what my wife calls it.March 12 was the day that Covid-19 became a crisis.In my extended family that’s in the middle of birthday season.Travel plans had to be altered.Trips to see loved ones had to be delayed.Then cancelled.Memorial Day came and went.It was a long weekend, but for most of us it was a long weekend at home.Our usual summer trip to the lake was also a victim.A remote lake may be the safest place to be, but you have to get there.Flying doesn’t seem safe and we don’t have enough vacation days to drive all the way out and back.Here we are halfway through the summer and each day feels pretty much like the one before, even if it’s a day off work.Time seems out of whack.Back in April it was hard to believe it was still 2020, now it’s difficult to comprehend that the year’s more than half over and there will be no AAR/SBL in November.
Growing tired of the phrase “unprecedented times,” I prefer “missing markers.”Yes, the weather’s still doing its time-keeping job.This summer has been quite hot around here, for the most part.I remember shivering in my study sometime not so long ago, bundled up in layers and thinking that when summer rolled around this coronavirus would be a bad memory.If only there were something governments could do to keep people safe.If only there were people in the White House who cared.I had visions of professors, hundreds and hundreds of them, wearing masks with their tweed.It was a vision of wonder.They’d walk up to you, extending an elbow to bump, but you’d back off. That’s actually too close.And lecturing spreads germs very effectively.Over time 2020 itself will become a marker.I’m not sure anyone will miss it, however.
It’s Independence Day and what we most need independence from is our own government.History is full of ironies.Federal holidays falling on a Saturday, for instance.In any case, here we are on the Fourth of July and still stuck under a repressive government that a small portion of people like.Republican groups supporting Biden are starting to arise, but we can only dream on Independence Day.Many of us would like to be independent of the coronavirus, and not a few people are acting like we are.Cases are spiking, so the rest of us are staying indoors.Fireworks are okay, but I have trouble staying awake until dark these days and more often than not they just keep me awake as I’m starting to doze.
Maybe for Independence Day I’ll take leave of reality.Maybe I’ll imagine a government that isn’t so utterly corrupt that some people might have some faith in it.Maybe I’ll dream that black lives matter and that our leaders would believe it.Maybe I’ll think what it would have been like if caring officials addressed the Covid-19 crisis directly instead of brushing it off, so that like all well-run nations cases would be going down here instead of back up.There’s so many possibilities and the one thing they all have in common is that they point to independence from the Trump Administration, if that’s what it can be called.Maybe it’s time to light a sparkler of hope.
Independence Day can be a day of looking forward instead of looking back.If we can look ahead we might see a country where anyone will be allowed to exist and not be condemned by “Christianity.”We can come to see that privileging any one “class” or “race” or “sexual orientation” is a form of bigotry from which we can and should be independent.We can try to think what it must be like to experience life from somebody else’s skin.We can try to understand instead of standing ready to condemn that which is “different.”Fact is, everyone is different from everyone else, it’s only a matter of degree.And difference can unite rather than divide.The whole idea behind uniting different states was that those who were different could support one another and figure out how to make room for everyone to fit.It won’t be easy to do, but we might use today to envision a country where we can work together, and figure out that leaders who bring people together are the only hope we have for the future.
It occurs to me that my post on Sunday may have been a touch cryptic.(I can be naughty at times.)Horror Homeroom was good enough to publish a piece I’d written about the movie Midsommar, a film that got its hooks into me earlier this year.Here’s the link in case you’d like to read it (it’s free): http://www.horrorhomeroom.com/midsommar-and-cross-quarter-day-horror/.It’s not an article using the Bible and horror as in yesterday’s post, but rather it is an exploration of the broader relationship between horror and religion.The origin of religion has long been a fascination, and the more I look into the connection with what makes us afraid, the more I find in common.But why midsummer when summer’s only just beginning?
Ancient peoples in temperate zones, according to the records they left behind, carefully observed the change of seasons.Without a tilted, spinning globe as a model the science of the time (which was likely their religion) suggested that the heavenly bodies were migratory.If you use raw observation that’s what seems to be the case.Now that I sit in the same office every day with a south and a west window, it becomes very clear how the sun shifts over the course of the year.In the winter it seems to be on a journey far to the south.Religions of such science would want to know, of course, when it would start coming back.The years were divided into segments—we still recognize four of them in our seasons although, in truth, they are merely gradual changes that take place in the weather as the earth’s tilt moves our hemisphere toward or away from the sun.
Midsummer was a northern European festival to celebrate the longest day.Whether this is the start of summer or the middle of summer is merely a matter of interpretation.The film Midsommar plays on the disorienting long span of daylight in northern Sweden.Without the dark to guide us, sleep and the regular rhythms of daily life can become difficult.When the people believe the old religion, well, let your imagination run wild.Horror films often lurk in these transitional times of the year.We tend to associate them with Halloween, but there’s enough to be afraid of right now.Not all horror has religious components, of course.Nevertheless it has been there from the beginning, from when van Helsing pulled out a crucifix to frighten off Dracula.And it continues, in perhaps more sophisticated ways, even in the broad daylight.
The summer solstice comes whether we want it to or not.Today is the longest day in the northern hemisphere although, as I write this the sun has not yet risen.It was a sleepless night, making this day seem even longer than it already is.Over on Horror Homeroom, where they understand sleepless nights, my piece on the movie Midsommar will appear.I won’t say here what I say there, or you might not go and read it.I will say that for a horror film Midsommar boldly sets itself in a sun-bathed atmosphere, making it all the more unsettling.To see more you’ll need to visit the Homeroom.
There are implications for the longest day.One of the most obvious is that from here on out days will be getting shorter.That’s the thing about anticipation—we crave the light when it’s in such short supply in December and January.This year of Covid, the spring blended into a long stretch of social distancing and isolation, even as the days were growing longer and the weather warmer.It was like some spokes were missing from the wheel of the year.Now that summer’s here many people are acting as if the need for caution is gone.Midsommar may help with that, since it shows that the daylight sometimes shows us what we don’t really wish to see.
Ancient peoples kept an eye on the seasonal changes long before they learned to write.Etched into the landscape markers like Stonehenge and Avebury and countless others were oriented toward celestial points on the solstices.Equinoxes were also observed, as well as the half-way points between.This altering of the earth to commemorate the progressing of the year took great effort, so we must assume it had great importance.You don’t move boulders unless you feel strongly compelled to do so.Such compulsion strikes us all as religious.
So it’s the longest day of the year.What will we do with it?When we look back at it, will we see what we wished we might have done with all that light on our side?Will we treat it just like any other day?The beauty of holidays (of which capitalism recognizes far too few) is that they teach us to stop and reflect for a few moments on the messages our planet sends us.Our longest day is also a message.What we do with that information is up to us.
Education is important.For example, I never really knew what Juneteenth was, although I’d heard the name a few times.Perhaps because of the “teenth” part I had it in my head that this was something to do with young people.The amazing thing I’ve been learning over the past several weeks is just how deliberate the “white male” narrative has been in perpetuating the racist mechanism in the employment of capitalism.Years ago I learned that race is a human construct—it has no basis in science or biology.It has served various entrepreneurs throughout history, beginning in 1619 and has been perpetuated ever since in order to ring the last possible copper from the coffers.Now we see what that looks like when a standing president holds these “truths” to be self-evident.
Juneteenth was proclaimed in Texas in 1865.Even in the extreme and conservative Lone Star State it was recognized over a century ago that all people have the right to be free.Of course we don’t celebrate it as a national holiday.Give people too much time off and they might get to thinking.If, perchance that thinking turns toward the heartless machine of capitalism it might be realized that there are better ways to ensure people are treated fairly, regardless of their skin color.This year, for the first time I have seen, many organizations—some of them corporations, even—are closing in honor of Juneteenth.Black lives do matter.We should be able to see that, but it takes innocent deaths to make the obvious appear.
Yesterday I listened to three Pulitzer Prize winners discussing racial equality.All three of them had written on the African-American experience.All three knew the evils of racism.Research has been done that indicates much of what stands behind white evangelical support of the Republican Party is racism.Many of the movement’s leaders still buy into myths about race and believe it is something God built into the human soft machine rather than something we made up ourselves.For political purposes.We need Juneteenth.We need reminders that the evil we’ve constructed can be dismantled.People should not die because of a false human construct.It wasn’t lack of curiosity that prevented me from learning about Juneteenth when I first heard of it.No, it was being overwhelmed with the problems Washington was spewing out (and continues to), that I had to divide my energies depleted by the capitalist Moloch.Now I realize, because by their fruits we shall know them.Floyd George was murdered on camera and we need to expose the thinking that allowed that crime to happen.
The summer solstice is nearly here (on which more anon).The coronavirus outbreak reached crisis level in the United States just before the vernal equinox, so we’ve been living with this now for over a quarter of the year.The World Health Organization has been warning that the greatest danger now is complacency.I’ve been seeing troubling signs of it.Many people equate the partial opening up as a license to ditch the masks and start having parties again.I go jogging around 5 a.m. these days because, well, the solstice.It’s light enough and I’ve already been awake a couple of hours by then.Parks and playgrounds around here are officially closed still, but the other day just after first light I jogged by a group of guys playing basketball before sunrise.The days are longer and it feels like nothing can harm us in summer.
Like most other people I worry about the economy.You’d think books would be big business during a lockdown and in fact many kinds are doing quite well.The academic kind less so.Still, I haven’t given up my hope that the pandemic will prove transformative.We should emerge from this better than we were going into it.Granted, the Republican Party has put the bar really, really low, but people are, I hope, starting to realize we’re better than our government.We know that black lives matter.We know that science is real.We know that people matter more than money.Nevertheless it’s difficult to keep wearing masks when we’ve shed the winter clothes and donned short sleeves.Disease, like Republicanism, doesn’t respect human desires.We need to keep the masks on.
A strange kind of giddiness comes upon us during these long days.There’s so much light!Those who can sleep past 4 a.m. are finding the sky already glowing when they awake.At this latitude it stays light until almost 9 p.m., or so I’m told.Thinking back to our primal ancestors, we were only really active during daylight hours.Sluggish and sleepy in the winter, we’re now stimulated with so many photons we don’t know what to do with them all.I sincerely hope that Covid-19 has had enough of the human race and is ready to leave us alone.In the light of the day, however, the evidence isn’t there to bear that out.We can still celebrate the longest day of the year with masks on, knowing that six months from now things will be very different.