Friday, November 05, 2004

a new world...

Wow, so how is everyone faring, now that we see what tuesday nov 2nd has brought us?

I expect to see a great many blogs such as this on the web, with quotes from Revelations and end-times and Nostradamus, just like there were, coming into my email in-box, after the result of election 2000, and the war which followed 9/11... I've already begun recieving a few... Actually, that dialogue began even before the election was even close to being decided...

But then, i live with people with imaginations.

Let me tell you something, about that happy little time we refer to so fondly as "the end."

Back home, in foxtown, one autumn i drove home and found that a new building had popped up only a few blocks away from my house. Or actually, it was an old building which had been there for a while, but which no one had ever had reason to notice before, which suddenly now boasted a huge sign which read "Church of End Time". Above the door of this shoddy and shed-looking craft was now a massive sign, on which was spray-painted an extremely gross and badly-rendered image of Jesus on the cross, with a mushroom cloud ballooning up in the background, and the words "End Time" scrawled in huge tasteless black letters, hanging gorilly above the scene. There was a chain-link fence around this church, the gate of which was open on rare days, with a sign hanging on it which said "church parking" in crudely spray-painted letters and an arrow, pointing to a dirt lot within, although there was hardly ever a car or truck to be seen there most such days. There would occasionally be what appeared to be yard sale in front, with a few stray racks of old farm clothes hung out in the sun, but no people to be seen, either buying or selling, in the building's shadow. Then, two years later, i returned home to find that the church had abruptly dissappeared without a trace. An antique store was now occupying the shack in which the End Time church had carried out... Whatever it was that it was there to carry out.

Why do i bring up this strange tale of the mysterious End Time church? Perhaps to somehow describe the gripping impact which the expectation of a soon-to-occur apocolypse has had, during my entire life, and likely those of many others. Whether or not it is all paranoia, whether or not "The End" has "always" been something right around the corner, and we all know it's no closer to reality now than it was two hundred years ago... Even if it has all been a story to scare people into going to church; it has still, been like a point of reference: people have expected it, anticipated it, and almost looked forward to it, as long as i have lived. And no matter what you believe, that gets to one after a while. It starts to feel like waiting to sneeze: and all the recent events, each followed with a chorus of people recounting similar fears of similar stories every time... One almost wants to say: will the damn End get on with it, already?? How long can we endure this cosmic foreplay with death??

So I'll be a soap-box-blogger for a moment...

Bush believes, so he says, that God appointed him as president. That God wants him there. It is strange, but i am inclined to believe him on that one. for who else would be so perfect, who else would be the one to make this world an ideal kind of place, for that Biblical expectation to finally take place? Who else could save us from this constant state of suspense, and finally bring it all to culmanation? Already people who had always been skeptical, always been level-headed, are starting to be the same people to talk of insurrection; of the end of a "United" states. Normal people are starting to talk about revenge. Surely there will be two Americas who look back on his presidency; one which will see him as a savior in a time of terror, and another which will see him as a terrorist in a time of hate. Either way, the wrath we breed leads to more occassions for disruptions, and more disruptions lead to more opportunities to interpret, one way or another; always interpreting-- but the edge is still feeling closer, feeling sharper than it ever felt from the mouths of madmen on the street-corners... Now it is as though the president himself has been siezed by the crazy talk; and with him has been swept the half of the country... On the TV; before my very eyes; I can hardly believe either my eyes or ears these days; in this way the heard and seen world itself, starts to resemble a story about an improbable event.

These days, these crazy days, are the kind that feed new journeys: new movements never possible before... I think we will suprise ourselves...
I think the Powers that Be work in mysterious ways and that we transform in stranger ways; ways that begin as a dark tunnel with no light at the end. We invent light, one way or another. Beliefs like these are those which keep my head above water, these bizarre days. It is this kind of hope, this kind of light, strangely to be kindled in a far-off time, after the onslaught of much worry, so much more turmoil than we can possibly imagine, that the break of light promises itself; the impossibility to follow impossibility. I must believe in it, I must look forward to grief in the light of this one final expectation; for you see, i find it hard to look into tomorrow, and see it absent of the kind of strive and hardship which i only ever read in books before, and not feel that i am lying in my heart.

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