About G.Y. FortuneGwen Fortune's News
Growing Up Nigger Rich
Family Lines
Bibliography
Links
Contact
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About G.Y. Fortune Gwen Fortune's News Growing Up Nigger Rich Family Lines Bibliography Links Contact |
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My third novel has yet to find a home (August 2007) but from the experience of the years since my first national publication, 2002, these thoughts are in mind. In #2, "Family Lines" the main character, a young widow, is between two beaux, one is the owner of an international communications corporation, and he helps solve the mystery; the other is a former national level sports figure. At the end of the story it seems she picks the athlete. In # 3. "Weaving the Journey: The Great Grands," in the winding down of the story (in 2028) the reader finds that the character Rosamund, in #2, married the international figure. He was born in India, but, since I like mystery I let the reader think about whether he is Hindu or Muslim. It is not necessary to have read "FamilyLines," although you're invited to do so, as I set the scene to place her in the third story.
The three stories are linked, although they are not sequels or a series. Emphasis on family and metaphysics, as in dreams, are the linkages. When I finished "Family Lines," because of two characters in it, I wondered what would be the relationships among an African, Indian and White woman. That was the impetus for the first part of "Weaving the Journey: The Great Grands." Some day, I'd hope to have someone notice the linkages and re-issue the books tgether. There are personal, social and historical wealth in the stories. I make an effort in every ting I write to demonstrate basic humanity and connections between and among people-and existence. In "Growing Up Nigger Rich," there is a sympathetic portrayal of a young, southern, white man who Gayla, the main character, meets on her first day back in the south. Conflict, problems, yes. Essential humanity, yes.
Perhaps, a problem with my writing for the general reader is that I try for complexity of character and story, not twists to confuse, but thinking is needed. I haven't spent a lifetime: in childood to now, four university degrees, teaching, meeting a variety of people and travel to write comic strip stories. Many readers, today, want a "quick read," so that is what corporate publishing accepts and proclaims as the reality of the American reader.
I was influenced by early writers, like Jane Austen The Bronte sisters, Louisa May Alcott. My mother recited poetry of the late 19th and early 20th century. Our schools taught the classics and "fine literature." Drummed into me was something called "work for the uplift of the race." I choose to think in terms of the human race. A rich community heritage and this kind of education exposed my generation to beautiful language, imagery and syntax. In the early 21st century, it is as if a giant trough has been set out for pigs to feed. I haven't read any of the "pop lit" of the past decade or so. The first Danielle Steel novel I read I threw in the wastebasket when I finished. It was for me, only an outline, not a fully realized novel. Humans and life are simple and complex. I strive to explore it all. This is how my mind just naturally functions.
It does not seem that publishers--the conglmerate-- are interested in the heritage from and within which I and like minds write, females of differing temperments, ages, experiences in the culture. People are not clones. My first agent was fortunate to find a small publishing company for novels one and two. It did not have the funds or the know-how to adequately market what I wrote. I spent the entire advances against sales, and precious funds of my own to tour and market. Despite the efforts by my first agent,she could not place the third novel. New York wants "a quick read," and all that means. My second agent is indigenous, Cherokee--"minority" like me. She sees the values of an African-Indian story. At this time, August, 2007, I have no idea as to the outcome. I broadcast the energy of hope that we will be heard--and read. This is why I write.
Non-fiction
Anderson Independent/Mail (Guest Columnist); Asheville African-American News; Black Art, an International Journal; Black Family Magazine; Encyclopedia on Aging;
North Carolina Humanities; CHICAGOLAND Senior American (Columnist); SHE—Serving Human Equality (Columnist); Mountain Extravaganza (Columnist; NovelAdvice CyberJournal (Columnist) and Anthology; Piedmont Pedlar; The Franklin NC Press (Guest Columnist); The Raleigh News and Observer (Guest Columnist); Write Connection;
Poetry
A Country Rag (Online); Afterthoughts; Always on Friday; ATAHITA Journal;
Black Sheep; BYTEland Poetry Anthology (Online); Cader Idris;
Dancing As Fast As We Can (Chapbook); Diaspora Poetry Journal; Georgia Journal; Immigration, Emigration, Diversity; Inner Quest; Journal of Poetry Therapy; Keen Science Fiction; Korone; Lonzie’s Fried Chicken; Messages From the Heart; MOBIUS; NEBO; Poets for Peace; Prairie Street Companion; Rainbow Search; Red Mountain Rendezvous; Voices, How Our Ancestors Speak; The Teacher’s Voice
Fiction
(Short Stories) A Country Rag; ATAHITA Journal; Asheville African-American; Otherworlds, A Science Fiction Anthology
(Novels) Family Lines;
Growing Up Nigger Rich, Pelican Publishing Company
SEEKING publication: Novel--“Weaving the Journey: The Great Grands" 104,000 word saga of an American family, 1826-2026
Academic papers
Writers Symposium, Methodist College NC (two years); “Aging Among African Americans,” in Aging and Ageism in the US; U of Maryland, “Desegregated Education as Process and Momentum,” in The Brighter Side of Darkness, Narratives on School Desegregation; African American Historical Research and Preservation Association Conference, Seattle U. “Alien in the Homeland, Rescuing the Bourgie”
Awards
Korone (Poetry-Honorable Mention); Red Mountain Rendezvous (Poetry-Honorable Mention); International Black Writers Conference (Essay-first and second place); Blumenthal Writers and Readers Series (Prose); Appalachian Writers Association (Poetry and Essay- Honorable Mention) ATHATA Journal (Grassroots Grant); Scribblers Short Story (First place)
Performance-Readings/Workshops
Chicago Public Library Cultural Center and “Dial-a-Poem”; Carolina Piedmont College; John C. Campbell Folk School; City Lights Bookstore-Cullowhee Writers Group; Peer Learning, “Focus Women”; UU Congregation; All Souls UU; NC A&T U; North Carolina Poetry Society;
Book stores, book clubs, academic institutions: Atlanta, GA; Baltimore, MD. Chicago & Evanston IL; Albuquerque, NM. Phoenix-Scottsdale and Tucson AZ; Houston, TX, New York City Harlem Book Fair; Philadelphia, PA; Florida, North Carolina, South Carolina—various. Radio and television interviews.
Gwendoline Y. Fortune, Ed. D.
8620 NW 13th St. -71
Gainesville, FL 32653
Tel# H-352-32-0021 C-352-541-5444
gyfort@earthlink.net
http:xenarts.com/gunr
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If I set my alarm for half an hour earlier, my waking moment would be filled with beautiful music. Not wanting to awaken earlier, the first sound I hear is a word and more words. Seldom, if ever, are the words beautiful like the music. We've known that Rupert Murdock, the legal immigrant, owns the Wall Street Journal. Not that I care one breath--unless it is my last one-- for the Journal, given its conservative economic and human policies, I'd like to hear that THE Journal is kaput. Murdock's ownership is another nail in the funeral box of western capitalism.
The word recapitulation came to mind, in the musical sense of returning to the original theme of a composition. My fey mind skipped through other words beginning with re, positive words like relation, regarding, relative as well as seemingly negative words like rebuff, reactionary and recession. Words are indeed fascinating, ranging through continuities.
Murdock is not beyond words. A person who has dreamed, since childhood of being the owner, ruler and controller of as much of the world as possible--like ALL of it--he is easily comprehensible. I have no knowledge that Murdock is descended from the initial group of Brits who were dumped into Australia by the British crown in 1788; those who refined European racist polices that emerged in the South African Apartheid (pronounced apart-hate) system in South Africa in 1948. He is an example of pigeons coming home to roost--an ultra conservative ideology of greed and aggrandizement.
From a moon's eye perspective Murdock represents nothing more than the Jungian psychological shadow writ huge; a gigantic, monstrous mutant of the avarice and grandiosity that resides in each of us. A few endeavor to obviate this powerful aspect within ourselves by "doing good works."
When I lived in the mountains of North Carolina I became friends with a number of spiritual seekers. One of the often heard comments was "Let go and let God." My thoughts became, if there is God and God is omniscient and omnipotent what the heck else can one do except allow what is to be. Interestingly, Ingmar Bergman just died. Remember The Seventh Seal? that omnipresent figure in black?
Protests, letters, petitions, marches, martyrdom, prayers and supplications, OM! Was it a Roman who said, "Eat drink and be merry, for tomorrow you may (will) die."
Murdock and the sellers of The Wall Street Journal for a new mountain of money are merely the continuum of a phase, a cycle that will play itself out in the scheme of All That Is. Einstein said that God doesn't play dice with the universe. Like Huh? Last time I paid attention the Milky Way was circling a very large black hole. At the end of the segment on Murdock's purchase NationalPublic Radio played a somber bit of classical music. about six seconds of a descending cascade, each descent a crescendo--then, an obvious "moment of silence."
Afterthought: A corespondent "accuses" me of viewing everything through a prism of race. I consider that the separation (fear) of people whether by gender, ethnicity/"race," economic status, education, age, disability you name it, are of one cloth. Scratch the surface of one bigotry and the released poison is identical. As Sergeant Friday said,"Only the names have been changed to protect the innocent."
Like Canio the spurned and cuckholed spouse in the opera Pagliacci, by Leoncavallo, it is time for the curtain to ring down on the farce with the final words, "The comedy is ended." The last bus left for the western train long ago.
Despite poll rating showings more than two-thirds of the public's disillusionment with the administration of the pseudo-elected President of the US in middle 2007, their elected "members of the loyal opposition" are more loyal than in opposition. Is there meaning to this farce? Why are people afraid--or are they lazy? What are other possiiblites for the inability of a massive number of people to move away from acceptance of death and disaster? I mean, what are those millions of dis-affected citizens doing everyday that the rape of us all continues? What gives with the two thirds of US citizens who are, reportedly, fed-up with lies, denial, continuing murders and waste of resources, human and material?
Sure, anyone can think of a number of excuses, reasons, we call them, rationality, comonsense, considering the conseqences--while we continue playing the game and variations of mental masturbation.
Can we face-up to the truth of the matter--that we're scared to get off the pot or DO it in the pot?
Do the childhood thing, nah, na na na na na; I double dare you.
My agent wrote to say that she has sent inquiries on my third manuscript to two publishers. I decided to spend a little time checking check publishers online. What a debilitating experience. My previous agent, who was able to place the first two novels, exhausted her contacts with the editors at the conglomerate level--the infamous "Six Sisters." I thought, perhaps, an agent who is willing to search beyond the flamboyant horizon of "Best Seller Bottom Line" would be more successful. Dreams are still at work, after twenty years.
Publishing has become a cancerous growth--like everything else in run-away-capitalism. I looked at the webpage for Simon and Schuster. There are numerous divisions and imprints. It is difficult to even find which of the many "lines" to follow. I can not believe that such a monstrous growth can do much that is efficient, effective--and seriously committed to reading, as there are so many stairs to climb to even get inside a door.
My image is of hundreds of cubicles "containing" young people with heads bent over heaven knows what. Imagining this, the words of my mentor-teacher Robert Gover come to mind. He said "These young people (all just out of college) are given a stack of manuscripts to read, in which they look for reason to reject by page three." I am sure the others of the "Six Sisters" publishing conglomerate are equally confusing--and difficult to navigate. Things may not ever have been as "simple" as we'd like to think, but this system is monstrous.
Data: Simon & Schuster's website says it is "a number of units...offer books in several formats..." There are "managerial editorial, art, production, marketing, subsidiary (with) "staff members dedicated to the individual imprint." Divisions are "Adult, Children, Audio, and International." Imprints are "Scribner" (originally the place where, in the Golden Age of publishing, sixty years ago, editors such as Maxwell Perkins found and worked with Henry James, Hemingway, Rawlings, Wharton etc., helping hone their writing into classics. Also, there are "Strebor," "Beyond Words," "Washington Square Press," "Atria"--an imprint for which a well known woman with African American interests, Malaika Adero, was hired.)" "Pocket Books," "Simon & Schuster," all under the ownership-control of CBS. Oh, and there are "Christian," "Touchstone," "Fireside," and about a dozen smaller imprints. Then, add "International" in Australia, Canada and the UK.
The tentacles of standardization are like fire ants, crawling-marching in one steady, branching, biting stream. It is all of a piece.
Feeling guilty of what may appear to be "whining." I wondered that my friends may think, "Me doth too much protest," in regard to experiences and responses with the publishing industry. A person can only respond to life from one's own experiences. I make a decided effort to verify that my responses are not solely my own, but are reflective of a larger cohort in the society. This is the social scientific perspective, goal and intent. The publishing industry (sic) as imbedded in the ENTERTAINMENT corporate world is viewed as one example of the state of the entire society--a vital one given the role of information/communication in society.
Never do I see a personal experience as isolated and unique. Whereas a particular experience is "singular," it is "of a piece," connected. Humans have experiences and responses that resound, similarly, in body and soul, unless they psychotically numb themselves by denial lies. Some people roll with the punches; other's become "punch-drunk", and others are anywhere and everywhere between.
Within me is the desire that the injustice, ignorance and cruelty of the world can be altered by awareness-- as in "SEEing." Negative energy will be cleared and redirected. This is a fervent wish, the dream. We sang, in Sunday school, "Open mine eyes that I may see, Glimpses of truth thou hast for me..." Whereas, I no longer visualize those images from childhood, the symbolism remains.
I correspond with a writer whose book interested me. Everett Prewitt wrote, in reply to the comment I made about publishing:
"Your observation is right on. I’m new in this business, but I find the publishing industry no different than the music industry, tobacco industry, etc. The only standard of measurement is the net profit generated. They disregard quality for quantity and morals for dollars. I think the future trend will be to gravitate toward smaller publishing houses that retain the values that launched many of our earlier great writers."
For his novel, Snake Walkers, Everett Prewitt is the recipient of the following:
First Prize fiction--LA Black Book Expo
USA Book News.com
Writer's Marketing (Fresh Voices Book Award)
Just About Books Talk Show
Fiction Honor: Black Caucus of the American Library Assoc.
Forward Magazine Book of the year
Finalist and/or semi-finalist--CushCity-Best new Author, Independent Publishers, Hollywood Book Festival
He had to self-publish. There are down-sides to this route in the "normal" publishing culture. The corporate megalith has no space or interest in the plethora of stories of ALL kinds by real people. It wants the celebrity the gross, the gloss and puerile, of interest to a limited demographic. Meanwhile, the lack of breadth and depth of creative energy widens like rising oceans created by melting icebergs, covering habitat, engulfing and drowning species.
Everett draws on his life as an educated man of color who uses this experience and insight to create story. This is what all artists do. We live in a socio-culture that wants escapism--"Don't confuse me with reality, and don't try to show me anything I don't already think I know." i.e. "Let me entertain you"--totally.
There are differences between how he, I and hundreds-possibly thousands--of others are received in the "marketplace." Look carefully at the venues that have recognized Prewitt's work. In my case, being in the top dozen of manuscripts at the New Orleans Pirate's Alley Faulkner contest, winning an award at The International Black Writers' Conference and a listing in the 2002 Dictionary of Literary Novels mean nothing in the cult of celebrity. We are unobserved in the meaningful, as distribution and sales, scheme. Fluff of a sensationalist nature is sought, welcomed, published, marketed and sold. No celebrity equals no attention, no success.
One can not put a soft voice on observable bias, not merely the bias of the marketplace, but the bias of unconscious, personal and institutional racism. Add racism and anti-middle-class-ism for black folks atop crass "pop culture" and the will to endure becomes wearing--angering.
I look forward to reading a variety of stories. I wonder why it is difficult for cream to rise to the top. Oh, oh, we live in an homogenized culture. Now, I remember.
Gwendoline Y. Fortune, Ed. D.
The US of A is accepted among its citizens and in the world as a capitalist economy under a banner of "Free Enterprise." If one understands this term in plain, everyday speech it appears to mean that in this land of the free any person has the right to offer her and his goods, talents and ideas to the populace and can succeed or fail on the basis of the value of what is presented. Success, in a capitalist economy, is measured as return in dollars for investment.
Another American truism used to be, "Build a better mousetrap and the world will beat a path to your door." From the beginning of the nation until recently--say, about 1950-- most young people expected that this principle would assure their future.
Somehow, the lessons on the history of the way that capitalism, the inheritor of mercantalism, actually works was hidden in untaught lessons, a glossy myth that did not include the actual workings of a system that has always depended on a variety of indices: family, power, timing and luck. Some would add "the market place," but I think that phrase requires a longer essay than I intend, here. Note, there is no reference to ability.
In the event that your are reading these words and you have "something to say," talent, drive and the intent to use your abilities to share what is your innate talent with the world, be careful, be very careful. The saying is, in the area of the arts, not only the US of A, but in most of the world, throughout history, and particularly in a capitalist economy of the modern age, don't quit your day job.
For years, many people, co-workers, friends, students, spontaneously, said, "You ought to write." At a crucial time in my life, my youngest son said, "Mom, it's time to write your stories." Naive believer in the fairness of the world, that I was, even at quite a mature age, my youngest was a college student, the two elder had graduated. I thought that if one had something of worth to say, something with which readers could identify (it's called being universal) and communicated it with skill and style, one had a fair chance of success. Success, for a writer, is measured by the number of people who buy and read your worK. If one defines success by the American enterprise model of monetrary return on one's investment--they like, they buy-- I made a grave error.
I, honestly, had no idea of making hundreds of thousands, or more, dollars. I did, though, think that whatever investment had been made, not only of time and talent, but of cash, would not result in loss, when one did it "right." Surely, I knew of failed businesses, that 90% of new businesses fail each year in the US. I set about learning the tools and tricks of the writing trade, not just the techniques of the actual writing but the business of getting published and, the word I detest, "marketing."
I will not bore by recounting the many stories of being "conned" by magazines, workshops-seminars, agents and self publishers. At the end of the lesson I childishly, expected that what I did learn would, one day, produce a satisfactory reward. The "lesson" extened from 1985 until 2002 with an expenditure of personal funds of about $30,000. WHAT? Yes. Courses in writing to learn fictive and poetic techniques were taken, in addition to four university degrees and thiry years teaching, grading papers,writing papers, giving papers. Fiction and poetry require different techniques. I was willing to pay my dues.
Courses were taken with respected authors at two universities, weekly writing workshops with progessionals: authors, editors, agents, publishers, conferences, "sending out" which means submitting your work to criticism by others in hope of having your poem, story or article accepted for publication. Oh, you have to buy the journal or magazine--dozens of them-- and your payment is a copy of the publication. Three computers and thousands of dollars later a publisher finally accepted my first novel. Dare I exhale? Not yet.
The phrase "The Dark Age" was, once, something I had to know a bit about in order to pass a history test. Although, in my long ago experience students did not merely check one tiny square from among five on an "objective test." We had to write words, sentences, paragraphs so the teacher or professor knew we weren't guessing or "making it up."
I think having to make a tactile investment, hand to pen to paper, caused the phrase to remain in memory. People who value thought and have a sense of history and certain knowledge of the horrors of the aftermath of societal change and upheaval, whether from war, famine, flood, pestilence or evolution may think and/or hear the phrase "The Dark Age" daily, even hourly in 2005.
In addition to the physical devastation of landscape, domiciles and death I remember the key component from my teachers was that the accumulated learning-knowledge of Western Europe was in jeapordy to the point of extinction. I had images of balding monks in scratchy, brown homespun cloth carefully, laboriously and secretively copying from and onto heavy parchment pages. No one one mentioned, of couse, that there may have been women performing the labor of love. Our texts and teaching were SO Western focused, then. But we can, easily, make the quantum leap to the global vision of today.
I can imagine the copyists listening for the enemies of knowledge outside of heavy wooden doors or in any secret place. Child and youth, some of us imagined vivid scenes, enabled by Hollywood images of Bela Lugosi and the "heavies" of the cinema before technicolor.
In the opening years of the 21st century there are whispers of, "We are entering a new Dark Age." Computers replace quill and parchment. Telephone, the Internet and forms of instant communication not widely known broadcast and confine the learning presently amassed by humankind. I don't know what the thoughts are for anyone who is reading this. I, wonderingly, ask for reactions and comments on the possibility of "a new Dark Age."
Is there a real or only apparent danger to civilization as some of us conceive of it? If there is no danger, what is the evidence. If there are signs, cracks and rumblings that the civilizing process of democracy, freedom and choice is being compromised let us share, discuss and devise. Who will be 21st century monks of all genders? Shall we find cloisters or speak, write and act as we are--in the world? Or shall we eat, drink and play?
Well???
In all books and traditions that seek to connect with whatever is thought to be "the ultimate," called by many names, God-Goddess-Supreme Being-Universal Essence-and a host of parochial names in all times and places, the story of "BEGINNINGS" is paramount. In our past we were nursed and weaned on tales such as "When the Great Spirit brought our people to this place," and "In the beginning God created the heavens and earth," Always there is a beginning.
In some stories the beginning continues in various manifestations, forms: animals, plants, people, spirits and elements. In stories, always, there seems to rise up a fear of continuing. Be it being cast from a garden or into a deep cavern or sleep. Perhaps, the stories that do not posit continuation, a growth and development, fear the unknown. Maybe, it is knowledge of what appears to be unknown that brings the fear. Does the knowing or unknowing result from fear or is fear the beginning? What is fear? Falling down the hole to Wonderland? Never coming to rest at the bottom of the hole, or hitting the bottom an not surviving? The questions proliferate, falling over each other, seeking solution, some having "foung it." Really?
The idea of "beginning" does not trouble those who are sure-- of--what? To begin implies to create. Creation implies new-different-novel-changing. Is there an unacknowledged, perhaps unspeakable fear that limits the urge to create "new?" What is the surety of "knowing?
Who is willing to ponder why the world seems to roil between creativity allowed and creativity denied, with denial being more prevalent? What are the needs, goals, limitations, expectations, fears and risks for the creative person? Might it be the same for the ultimate--by all names? Is there, was there, really, a beginning and how do we contemplate an end? Is creativity creative? "Was" it ever? Can it be?
For many, the so-called 21st century CE appears to offer little opportunity for creativity. Technologically generated "creatures" exist by the millions not only on entertainment screens, but in the routinization of human lives to the level of drones. This is redunancy. Such a "reality" is, perhaps, one step beyond the wavering lines of miners descending the shaft to dig coal or gold or salt--or work in the stockyards or cotton mills. And today, there are no beautiful voices on that trek as in "How Green Was My Valley," or the slaves in the canebrakes or Ernie Ford singing "Sixteen Tons." Check into these references, if you are too young to make the CONNECTIONS. Creativity is life.
The question above is one politicians ask when they want to be elected, when they believe that a current adminisration has failed the people and they can do a better job.
I'm thinking of how to place a base, a floor under my answer. Let's see, the key components of life might be subsumed under the arc of the US of America 's first statement of being, the Declaration of Independence. These precepts are:LIFE, LIBERTY and the PURSUIT OF HAPPINESS.
Okay--Number one--LIFE-- I have chosen to use complementary health care, a supplement and alternative to the usual and expected health care system. My health has been sustained for the past twenty-four years as a result of my choice. I had a certified MD who ascribes to a medical orientation called Ecological or Environmental Medicine. I, also, have a doctor of naturopathy, a graduate of one of only five accredited naturopathy colleges in the US--Australia has more than forty such colleges. My doctor is allowed to be certified in a few states, California, Oregon and Washington and, perhaps, a few others. In NC and most US states those who select an ND as their primary care giver must pay 100% for their care and medications (supplements.) I have, on occassion, consulted an acupuncturist and a chiropractor, all with alleviation of pain and suffering Lucky me, when I consult my certified chiropractor my paid-for insurances cover part of the costs. I, as a sentient, mature adult have no freedom to select health care, only to pay for insurance that does little to nothing for me.
I despair for the millions of Americans who have no health insurance. They are doubly disenfranchised, for they have confidence in the allopathic medical model, yet are denied access to it.
I can hardly find an MD with the care orientation I want. There is one in Houston, 50 plus miles away. I locarted him by telephoning a contact in Illinois who is a part of the network of environmental medical care. There was one such MD 70 miles away from my home when I lived in North Carolina. LIFE: my goodness. I'm lucky I inherited a fairly decent body and have learned to eat and drink what sustains my chemically sensitized body.
LIBERTY-- I once loved to travel. No more. I find travel by air depressing. The surveillance, suspicious eyes, demands that I unlock my bags or the locks will be broken, has murdered a once enjoyed life-action. My parents took us on many trips. This trips and our parents taught us much, about the country, people and ourselves, including how to survive away from home. No more. I watch children weaving through the airport maze with fear on their faces. No longer can grandparents bid them goodbye and welcome them when they return. Waiting behind a barrier outside the protected area is not conducive to a feeling of LIBERTY for children or adults.
PURSUIT OF HAPPINESS: How can anyone imagine that bureacratic red-tape, rules and limitation on movement, demands for several pieces of photo ID almost even at the grocery or gas station are conducive to relaxation--lowered blood pressure--even a smile on one's face.
A person can not find it easy to be happy when strictures and stringent limitations are the norm of one's waking and sleeping life.
Are you better off...? "Not I," said the little red hen. Do you know that fable?
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To take a long range, long tern, comprehensive view of the current socio-economic-political--human scene I like to consider the euphemistic concept, "Downsizing." Can there be a rational, yet, honest platform from which to discuss this latest form of slavery?
If the universe (s) is/are always in a balancing motion of yin-yang, where are we? Where will we be, later. Does the balancing act have meaning? Perhaps we are in a yang-phase;violence and controlling factors appear to be ascendant. Whether moon, solar or a larger expanding-universe modality is the operational base, is it possible to discern viable responses to, even the simplistic journalistic questions: who, what, where when? The ultimate human question is WHY?
We are told that essential energy can not be created or destroyed, only changed in form or formlessness. What is the point?
Downsizing, the re-creation of a docile work force, makes the "ordinary," not-in-a-position-of control citizen afraid to question because their survival is at stake. Mathematicians, humanists, religionists, technocrats, bureaucrats, farmers, fishers, astronauts, and everyone between and among either wonder or ignore. At this juncture in human evolution the balance is weighed in one direction. Will there be re-distribution, and to what avail, if the teeter-totter is in constant, although slow, slow motion?
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