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Sorry, nothing happening here

Your Humble Blogger really is aware of the world smashing into pieces. I suspect I could make this Tohu Bohu of interest again by commenting on the tininess of the pieces, or by choosing somebody to blame, or just expressing my shock and horror. Lots of things that I care deeply about—collective bargaining rights, the ability to someday visit the Holy Land, a working federal government, food that doesn’t contain radioactive particulates, public radio—are teetering on the precipice of, um, well, a precipice. The steep kind of precipice. Like at the end of The Italian Job, right? With the bus and the gold? Well I, to switch film references, am v-v-very interested to see w-w-what’s going to happen next.

On the other hand, I’m not terribly interested in writing about it all. I don’t have any particularly interesting take on any of it. In fact, I am already spending too much of my time for my own personal happiness reading about the destruction of the world I hold dear; if I were to spend additional time writing about it, I would be less happy than I am. Better (for me) to hold off some time for sinking into escapism, or to enjoy the idiot crocus. Crocus. Are there stupider life forms? I mean, seriously: Hey, guys, I bet it’s Spring already! Is it Spring? I sure hope so! What’s this white stuff? I could write about the crocus. I mean, seriously, here’s the world, going to utter shit in a mag-lev train, and there’s the crocus all purple and yellow and dumber than, er, dumber than a, dumber than…

Did I mention I haven’t been sleeping well? I’m not at my most articulate these days, and I’m busier than a one-legged goat roper at the county fair, so my level of similitic achievement is as low as a toad.

All of which is to say a couple of things: (A) if any Gentle Reader wants to take over this Tohu Bohu for an entry in order to spark a conversation about some aspect of the recent excitement, go for it, please. And (2) I am going to continue with the Sixteen Lines until I’m done, and then I hope I will write another couple of posts about the Play, and then be done with theater notes for a while and write about something else. Oh, and (iii) sorry this Tohu Bohu has been so quiet and dull lately. Better things are on their way.

Tolerabimus quod tolerare debemus,


I have been enjoying your commentary about your lines, but I have had nothing to say about it. Anyway: RAEBNC.

Current news is appalling, and it is too easy to become dispirited (which is how I have found myself) instead of fired up.

Go look at the crocuses.

Meetoo. Only I do have a melodic disagreement with the chord to your "My poor woman". But it's just my gut talking, not any well-reasoned thing. (And it sounds suspiciously like a minor-key variant of the NPR tag.)

Your crocuses delight me, though here we have moved on into the brashness of daffodils. I look forward to the days in which my street blushes--Japanese maples, dogwood, and redbud. Last year I missed it, between work trips and rain. (A small advantage to having no work trips this year.)

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