The day started nicely just after 6 a.m.
with three meditations and three poems
and then turning, in fear and trepidation
(not quite) to the day’s headlines
and their effect on the body’s health.

Six good reads today
Then acid reflux from news
— geographic tongue.

Samuel Clemens, in his alter-
ego, said something like, “If
I lie, I have to remember

everything; if I tell the
truth, I don’t have to
remember anything. Telling

the truth is much easier.”
Then there is the malevolent
narcissist who isn’t bothered

by how many times he lies
and there are all the support-
ers of the malevolent narciss-

ist who aren’t malevolent
narcissists but just oppor-
tunistic narcissists who

are scared to death of what
might happen to them in our
faux sacrosanct political

system. Or did the malevolent
narcissist, not smart enough
in spite of his protestations

to the contrary, not have
a clue what was going on
and all the non-malevolent,

just greedy narcissists go
along and ultimately, go
down the political drain

as the malevolent nar-
cissist looks on with a
bewildered gaze,

smile and another lie?

A beautiful, bronze and orange cat loves
to hunt in our dune grass. We think the

cat belongs across the street at the
neighbors but they have indoor cats

who sit looking out the bay window
at whatever is going on in the dune

grass. She’s a nice cat. I don’t know
her gender, but female just seems to

fit. The other day, as I was backing
the car out of the driveway, I glanced

to my right and there surrounded by
blades of grass she sat very still,

very quiet on an electrical box at
the base of an electrical pole. She

looked at me as if to greet me good
morning. Then she went back to the

dune grass, silently attentive to
her territory.

A psychologist once told him
that he has a female brain
identified as being warm,
loving, compassionate,
nurturing, but he knows
that there is a male brain
lurking here and there
because he has been
scripted to power
and authority
and so the
binary war
between
the sexes
takes
place
between
orbiting
planets
Mars
and
Venus
encased
within
a boney
space —
the
Solar
System
of
his
head.
He is the first in the family to
cry while watching a movie, “Oh,
there goes dad again.” But
he is the first to roar
when sore and the
family shouts,
“Horror!”
Perhaps
such
schizophrenia-like behavior is
good for doing the tasks
of ministry, but sometimes
it feels like he is going
crazy. But part of the
Sophia wisdom of
growing old is
reconciling
things with-
in oneself
it could
be said,
so he
is seek-
ing
the
unitive
glory
of
peace
between
the
sexes
within
his
bony
head.

On a sunny, brisk, early November
afternoon, the couple took a

color tour ride north along the
Big Lake as the sun shone bright

behind them on its way west over
the water. After days and days of

rain and strong winds, they were
pleasantly surprised that there

were any leaves left on the trees.
The colors weren’t bright but

every now and then a maple blazed
and bright yellow leaves fluttered

in a beech along the beach. On
their way home, the sun dipped

over Racine in a deep red fire-
ball. They looked at each other

and said, “Yes,” for a color tour
ride in November.

My five-four, bald-headed grandfather
once mused aloud that he didn’t know
why he married Frances, the woman
who bore him six children. There had
been so many other, prettier women in
his life. My grandmother was a pretty,
petite blond. I saw photos of her when
she was just a young woman. I have no
idea why my grandfather said what he
did, especially in front of a few of his
grandchildren. He should have kept the
thought to himself. It has not worn well
down through the years.

A young psychiatrist back in
the early seventies shouted
from the rooftops that violence

on TV is ruining our society.
(And he had the stats to back
it up.) Except for a few, he

was politely ignored. Of course,
his cry came as an echo down
through the ages from another —

the cry of the Israelite children
in Babylon who rewrote the
redemptive violent creation

story shouting, “God is good
and kind and peaceful and that
good God created out of nothing,

goodness and the idea that
redemptive violence will save
us is just a joke.” Well, they

didn’t say that exactly, and
but for the few Jews, it was
ignored (and time and time again,

they ignored it, too). We have
decided that the stories from
Greece and Rome and Babylon

are spot on and the hero rises
up from weakness and vulner-
ability to violently slay

the dragoness — evil in the
form of the female rising
from salty waters. Oh, Lordy,

watch out for those witchy
women. And now, we have little-
fingered Donald screaming bloody

nuclear murder and disrespecting
women all the while calling him-
self a good Presbyterian when he

is really just an ancient Babylonian.

*With nods of appreciation to
the late Walter Wink

When I was a kid, our family
would travel from Chicago to

Dowagiac, Michigan to visit
with Swedish relatives who were

more friends of my dad than
relatives in as much as he

only had one relative in the
north woods of Wisconsin. We

were warned about going into
the cellar because there might

be Eastern Massasauga rattle-
snakes there, so we would open

the doors and frightened, just
peer inside. My Uncle Ernie had

a Chris Craft speedboat and
would speed us across Indian

Lake. I remember loving the
smell of the burning marine

gas and whenever I smelled
it afterward, the good memories

it brought. Now, my wife and
I are kayakers and we love

the smell of the water, the
weeds, the bass, bluegills,

perch, Northern Pike and the
sight of the turtles who fled

the stumps at our near silent
approach. I think the Indians

for whom Indian Lake was
named would approve.

For all our sins, the sin
that looms largest is the
assumption that we European

immigrants had the manifest
destiny to eradicate all
native peoples. The hubris,

the arrogance, the horrend-
ously, hate-filled exter-
minating actions rise up

like a Phoenix to accuse
us. From the East through
the Midwest, South, West

and Southwest, our desire
has been elimination, now
as a way of getting rid of

our guilt and shame, which
will rise up higher and
longer than any corrupt

action we have taken. Even
though they never wished to
compete with us; conflicts

naturally occur; they don’t
need to end in ethnic cleans-
ing; they will persevere

because God will see that
the Indians will survive
and thrive in the heart

of God in a way that we
don’t know because we
sold our heart and soul

to the devil out of hubris
for the pettiness of domi-
nation and greed.

And the drums beat on and on.

In our instant gratification
culture, we think that any

and everything can be an-
alyzed and described,

inspected and dissected
instantaneously when,

if we are honest with our-
selves, we know that in

our individual lives it
takes generations upon

generations to understand
why we have the dreams

we have, and so, we should,
at least, give twenty, thirty,

forty, fifty years even to
beginning to have a clue

to what is going on in this
seemingly, sudden, surreal

existential nightmare called
the present federal administ-

ration. I guess understanding
how this all came about is

critically important, but
what might be more import-

ant is how we get beyond
this imminently, horren-

dously, dangerous time, so
we can have the leisure to

analyze the situation and
actually make some sense

of it all for future
reference.