Kathryn, Phillip,
Thanks for your kind words of support. Some skulking around tonight (not by
me) is a bit like the movie "the burbs" and there is some circumstantial
evidence that the letter writer was provoked. :-0 And there are all sorts of
other things in the grapevine, like the possibility of a letter of apology.
Please excuse me as i simply, with as little judgement as possible, try to
record and understand what is happening. Still however, living here, I feel
the shocks of action and reaction, and the polarization feels extreme for the
situation.
I mean, I think of Mandela, or Friere, or the water in Woburn, or any number of
other things to occupy one's passion, and this is petty. Nevertheless, there
is activity here, and, here I am, swept along by an irresistable current. A
theory of the activity of pettiness, of fighting wars already won and lost, of
being in control of one's territory, of rights of the individual or landowner?
Like cow chips, when dry there's texture, and when wet it's just stinky crap.
bb
=====
"One of life's quiet excitements is to stand somewhat apart from yourself and watch yourself softly become the author of something beautiful."
[Norman Maclean in "A river runs through it."]
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This archive was generated by hypermail 2b29 : Mon Oct 01 2001 - 01:02:06 PDT
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