The pressure of thinking a thought is too much for me this morning. I’ve listened to some bible, scrolled through the Internet, and I’ve found two whole moments of consequence.
First there is this–a pig walking a cat. I mean for real. There are two pigs and a cat and one of the pigs is attached to the cat. They are all walking down a sidewalk. It’s the best thing I’ve ever witnessed, including the births of all my children.
And then there’s this, which is a hymnal of secular hymns for if you don’t believe in God or whatever.
The two of these gems together, I think, out weigh the combined dumbness of both political campaigns (oops, three or four, sorry Gary), that dumb dumb thing about Hillary and Brittney Spears on Salon, all the stupid stuff being said about terrorism, and the totality of every food video on Facebook. You could just read all the “hymns” (God bless the person who worked so hard to do all that rhyming), and watch the pig walking the cat and you’ll be better off as a person–lighter and freer and happier and everything.
“Your blogging sounds bored,” said Matt to me over our Friday night glass of wine. “What’s wrong with you?”
I don’t really know. I think really, as I’ve already said, that this house is just too jolly nice to produce enough angst to drive me to anger every morning. And anger is the primary ingredient in all my writing. But also, I feel like the Internet has broken my mind, and The Conversation. Is there any point using words to talk about unhappy things, or debating a difficult topic, or un-teasing an idea and trying to get to the root of it? There is a great and terrible Ennui hanging over the western world. People die and it doesn’t matter. Words are shouted and it doesn’t matter. Bombs go off and it doesn’t matter. It’s like the whole west is David, lounging around in his palace, lusting after Bathsheba, too languid to go to war, angry about all the wrong things, neglectful of responsibility and truth. My dancing around on the margins, using words to shout into the moral morass seems exhausting and pointless.
Not that I have given up trying. If a pig can walk a cat, and an atheist can sing
“Accommodating others is kind of fun to do
It doesn’t mean we’re toadies without a point of view
It takes a skill for learning what other people need
Accommodating others lets ev’ryone succeed.”
to the tune of In Heavenly Love Abiding, then I can keep blogging my way into a more interesting writing life.
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