Palm Sunday. Culture paves the way, boy, no matter what you think or believe.
I find this depressing; free will exists but is limited to the fits and starts of where you were born and ultimately raised. I mean, I know this. I have read enough psychology, but somehow this goes deeper.
That it does, boy. A sharp deep plow. Earth deep.
What then of the Marsupial humanoids? Biology from the same comet base originally.
Earth is earth, boy, no matter where it is.
I need the Sunday paper and breakfast.
Go to it, my man. – Amorella.
Genetics and environment, both are limiting. We claim too much ‘free will’ from our imprisoned biological and socially conditioned walls.
Welcome to Alcatraz . . .
You are entitled to food, clothing, shelter and medical attention. Anything else that you get is a privilege.
- U.S.P. Alcatraz, Rules and Regulations
A wish for humanity in prison rules.
You are angry, orndorff. Post, and let it go. – Amorella.
You and Carol spent several hours working on the yard, pulling wild onions, trimming trees, sowing grass, putting out lawn chairs and the like. With all this and now an errand to Kohl’s for Carol to buy a new watch and you are still rather glum-minded.
An existential funk, no doubt. We are an odd species and I assume our marsupial counterparts think of themselves in the same way.
How else? They had terrible times too if you remember. Having an extra twenty thousand years to figure things out would be helpful but you don’t have that kind of time.
I figure a couple more years might do it.
I’m talking about the species, boy. – Amorella.
That’s funny, Amorella. Of course. Wait. Why don’t we have twenty thousand years? We are working on being civilized, if that is what it is. What difference does it make anyway? We deserve what we have. Capitalism, the rawer the better, allows this to be a dog eat dog world, which is what we appear to savor. The species enjoys the competition and the ever life-threatening rat race. We are built for such survival. I can’t imagine it ever being any different. Even the prisoners at Alcatraz rioted and tried to escape a couple of times. Having the necessities wasn’t enough. We are a fickle species. Comedy and tragedy grow on us like so much moss. Eventually it buries us and that’s that. A beautiful Spring day like today seem worthy of glossing over the reality.
Later, after yet another errand and more outside work and 60 Minutes and Masterpiece Theatre at twenty-one hundred hours.
If it fits with the books, why don’t we have the time, Amorella?
The second rebellion of the Dead, boy. It moves whether you move with it or no.
Indeed it does, Amorella. Our young lady, our biological product of two worlds across the galaxy, grows older and more mature. She will be a pistol I am sure of it. Here I have been reading about how fourteen year old Elizabeth had an affair and child with her step-father, and how he may have been Edward, 17th Earl of Oxenford. And, in the latest chapter Oxenford may have had an affair with his mother, Elizabeth, of all people. I don’t buy it, but who knows. It appears a bit too far fetched to me. But then, culturally, after Freud and all, I find it a mite abhorrent. No wonder Shakespeare was attracted to the Greek tragedies with such imaginary thoughts running through his mind. Then we are all fifty-second or so cousins after all and share the same original biological mother, so perhaps it is not so shameful after all, if one counts out the cousins to at least two in this country. Elizabeth’s step-father was much older to be sure, but I think only slightly related to her by blood. Such complications. Hamlet has some very dark humor in those suggestions, if any of it were true. This does not help with writing the scene I feel with curiosity that I should write. It is in my head after all and needs to make itself known consciously.
What bothers you most, orndorff, is that the Shakespeare book may have more truth to it than you are willing to listen to. Some irony in this, but who’s to say? Post. – Amorella.
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