Saturday, December 15, 2012


The day has ended almost before it has begun. A colleague remarked yesterday that the pressure of work wasn't allowing him time to assimilate the myriad victories and defeats of the day, so that he could arrive at a rhetorical assumption about how life was progressing for him and the world at large. The perpetual news cycle doesn't grant the bemused cynic any latitude to indulge a theory of social progress or decay when he is blindsided by the next big story that is always about to strike. The pace, the freneticism, the gratification, the mission of - release, has overshadowed what was once a binding narrative, even in confusing times of war, that one can base one's judgment on when confronted with a metaphorical mirror that you could hold up to virtue and its comeuppances. The sense of comparison is dead... in this age when there is really very little material available to use to relate anything to a sense of triumph... which is, I think, a psychological imperative for the justification of life - ours and everyone else's.
I should solicit help posthaste.

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