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No straight lines

May 25, 2018   ·   0 Comments

By Constance Scrafield

Jane Ohland Cameron’s vision of time is that it is not linear. A complex thought; most cogitation about time is complex because it has no substance, no strings or molecules, no atoms. We can’t see the wind but we can feel it on our faces, watch it blow trees down and shingles off roofs.

Outside of our philosophical say-so, there is no such thing as time. The earth rotates; we watch the sun come and go over the horizon; our children are born and grow into this space, this pocket of the air we designate as “time.” Hopelessly, we measure it after a fashion, with time pieces, “accurate to an ‘nth’ of a second” but what does that mean?

Nothing. It doesn’t mean anything, only our artificially calculated decision that time will look like this or that.

We measure it by the lines on our faces, by the growth and decline of our strengths and abilities, but all this is the usual narcissism by which humans measure everything. We never understand a subject, matter or perception except through our own myopic human experience.

Thus it is with time and space, where only the obvious, and the depth to which we research the obvious, fills our minds.

There is everything to explain this: lunch, for example; lust; power; recognition; desire to be loved. All these tie us down, distract us from what is needed: freedom from our upbringings that tell us we are the superior beings over all of life on earth, or, worse, superior to each other within this same species.

Clutter rules us, for we never simply see, can never be released from the clutter that we drag with us through every job, decision, desire to understand. That is a lie: we don’t desire to  understand; we only want it all to be how we think it should be, based on our human limitations.

Clutter rules language, for we use all those words for messing about with research results, for arranging the lives of people over whom we have power or influence, for filling our own pockets, as if that would make any difference for good even in our own greedy, tiny lives.

We never see the whole picture because we are hamstrung and imprisoned by all the  clutter that keeps us blinded.

There are no saints, no pure souls – no one that brave; don’t look for them.

Including amongst politicians.

What a motley crew, on every level, in every small or big region of power: village to country to the world. Here we are in this municipality, province, soon – the country – and what we have but a bunch of poorly educated – in ways that matter – self-interested, more or less dishonest, ready to cover up their blunders in the past or to come.

Not one of them stands with view to heal at the source, rather then to deal with just the symptoms. Healing is essential, not wild spending on bandages. There is no desire to have that vision. Maybe  harder to win votes from an equally narrow-sighted public.

Of four of them, the farmer reckons he has policy wrapped up in just three things: air, water and food security. The businessman knows that only money matters: and he has the answers on how it should be spent. The restaurant owner knows her party will make changes without the experience of power and its corruption. The incumbent makes promises which her incompetent leader might struggle to understand, let alone instigate.

Even with so little history, we stand deep in mire from which we do not have the tools to escape: the political will to govern with conscience and total selflessness does not exist. The drunkenness of authority makes autocrats of us all. The inclination to excuse pitfalls and mistakes, rather than consult and confer, but without waffle, is irresistible.

All of them throw billions of your dollars around in theory, without any specifics because they don’t know enough of what they are talking about to be specific.

It is an entirely different perspective once the election is settled.

Personally, we like and respect Sylvia Jones. She works hard for, is well involved, with this jurisdiction.  However, Doug Ford is the leader of the party she represents, the Progressive Conservatives.

Doug Ford’s brother Rob, as Mayor, put Toronto on the map because he was a buffoon, a man of ignorance. Doug is a less clever version of him. Worst of all, Doug Ford, completely unqualified, is terrified of the job of Premier. His lack of actual policy, his flip-flop approach to mandate, make him dangerous.

It is imperative that every available person votes. Even though they are muddled by their own clutter, one of these candidates belongs to the winning party. Somehow, each of us has to dig to find a ray of sense; then, make our best decision and hope for the best.

         

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