The darkness across the street is not as dark as it once was. Looking across at the woods, at night, has been a time of mystery. I’d always be left to wonder what the darkness hid. Working beavers? Patrolling coyotes? Fox? Deer? Moose? Or, on those nights where spookiness is in the mind… ghosts… or demons? Sometimes I’d look out expecting to see the red glow of evil eyes peering back.
The woods remain, but they’ve been substantially thinned since I moved in. A hundred yards through a section of the woods now bring you to a road. And with the leaves having dropped south for the winter, glimpses of street lights break through the birch and maple. Perhaps I’ll sometimes see the lights as extra terrestrial orbs… but, for now, the mystery has been broken.
I’ve slept my last on the only mattress I’ve known in Ontario. It’s bagged up and ready to go. Delivery people will be here this afternoon… bringing memory foam into my room. It’s odd to be nostalgic over a fourteen year old mattress… and I’m sure I won’t much miss it in the long run… but bagging it up, this morning, felt like a form of abandonment.
I am done with the concept of “thoughts and prayers”. America seems to have a mass shooting every few weeks now… at least a newsworthy one. And each time it’s the same old reaction. Shock… statements of there’s nothing that could be done… and “thoughts and prayers.” It’s a routine now for an event that should never be accepted as routine. Thoughts and prayers are completely useless and meaningless. Especially when given by politicians who have the power to actually do something concrete that would curb such violence. But, instead, they take their NRA money and offer up thoughts and prayers. I’d rather they say nothing and own the decisions they’ve made to get our southern neighbours to this point. “Thoughts and prayers” are a mock solution to a problem that could actually be solved if the desire was really there. It isn’t that complicated. Ban civilian access to assault rifles that were developed for use by soldiers in war zones. Mandatory background checks. Register the weapons that are legally purchased. And, in the wake of the Vegas shooting, once a civilian has purchased his tenth firearm, perform a more thorough investigation. I mean, honestly, any person who owns forty or fifty firearms should likely be checked in on from time to time. But America doesn’t really care. It’s freedom this and 2nd amendment that. And if people die, that’s the price of freedom.
A stat I heard the last few days that really strikes home. Columbine, the shooting that was so shocking to the world when it occurred, is no longer in America’s top ten biggest mass shootings. God help America when laser guns are developed and civilians will be able to vaporize a stadium of people within three seconds. Cause seriously, when the 2nd amendment was created, semi-automatic assault rifles would be as much science fiction then as laser guns are to us now.
As a society, we are too addicted to the economy. Sometimes it feels like we’ve been brainwashed to think we were put on this earth simply to buy stuff. One can’t get away from the advertising. Turn on the TV… every 8 minutes you’ll get 4 minutes of advertising. Radio is a constant barrage of advertising that’s occasionally interrupted by a few minutes of music or programming. Newspapers are blocked full of ads. Sports facilities are named after corporations and the playing surface is painted full of business logos. The internet got so full of advertising that I often skip articles on certain sites because I know I’m going to have pop ups to work around. I actually took to “the Athletic”… a pay sports site… so that I can read about hockey and baseball without being overwhelmed with the advertising. I constantly get a community newspaper delivered to my front door. I used to be nice about it… emailing the company and asking them to remind their carrier to skip by my house. But every few months it starts up again. Now my emails are much less friendly. And my dream is to find out where that carrier lives so I can bring that advertised rag right back and leave it on their front doorstep. And now, today… the car parked quietly in my driveway got a flyer for windshield water repellant tucked under the wiper. It’s all just too much.
But the sun is out… The bare forest is still and I’m a week away from once again living in the same town as my parents (at least for approximately half of the year). So life isn’t too bad.
