August
4, 1993
The poor old
raven!
How liberal he's
become in his old age. He used to sing the praises of a conservative thinkers
in those mad days of rage when left wing protest was in fashion. I thought then
he did it for shock value. Now I'm less certain. For all his dreams and
fantasies of doom, he fears Chaos. He needs a sense of order in his life, a
regular job, a sense of home and property.
Last night, when
I called, he snarled at me for interrupting the President's speech. He seems to
have hope there-- in a system of checks and balances. Life at the library in a
small, small town has given him an odd perspective on the world. It's too late
to erase the liberal tendencies he hid when he was young, but bend and shape
them, that world does, making him believe that much more strongly in the
system.
It amazes me the contradictions
in him. The hunger for revolution and change that dominates his art and
interests, yet in his practical life he is revolted by anything too radical.
Reform is the key word. Education is the means.
But for some of
us society has already moved too far towards its own self-destruction,
pillaging the planet so that even the weather has changed. I suppose every
generation has this sense of doom hanging above it. When we were young it was
the H-bomb, we thought would do us in. Now it's global warming.
Yet in truth
society grows more and more complicated over time, and while some may view the
positive aspects: longer life, better lifestyles, etc., others like me see the
world twisting out of our control. Jimmy fears Chaos and leans towards the other
extreme. I fear God or the new gods that technology creates.
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