There are a few things you can count on. One of those is this: When Mel Gibson declares at the beginning of a movie that he doesn't like violence and only wants to live in peace, he's going to kill many, many, many people in righteous anger before the movie is over. Mel Gibson learns over and over and over again the lesson that pacifism is okay to talk about, and it makes you seem deep and virtuous, but you eventually have to kill all the bad guys. If you don't, you won't have freedom or revenge or closure or something and the bad guys will destroy everything good in the entire world.
Could you tell a different story? Would it be true?
The man who lives in the clouds has never seen a clear blue sky stretching, unbroken, from horizon to horizon. He would swear to you that such a sky has never existed and never will. You cannot dissuade him. It won't work, but you could try telling him this story:
There was once a boy who found the whole world stinky. Everywhere he traveled, the smell was repugnant to him.
He went, in despair, to his father for advice.
"Son," his father said, "take a bath."
The man who lives in the clouds would understand the story, but he would not see that he is the boy. Very few people can.
If I could live for a day away from myself, what would I discover? Would I want to go back?
Hello, friends. How are you today?
Later. Love.
P. S. - In response to my Ghost Clown post from yesterday, kehlers wrote this. She suggests that love, squalor, and a weeping clown are the building blocks of great literature. If you'd like to write your own story of love, squalor and a weeping clown, I'd love to read it. Let me know about your story and I'll link to it. Thanks for stopping by.
