The Circus

A Fantastical Think Piece That Might Actually Be True

“A Baptist, a Catholic, a Jew, an Atheist, a Flat-Earther, a Hippie, and both of my grandmothers walk into a bar…”

No, no, it’s not a joke. It’s this blog specifically, and my friends generally, and my brain keeps whirling around in bogglement and indecision, but yes, yes, THINK PIECE INCOMING.

I had another fantastic discussion yesterday with some pals, and then I went to Wawa, and then drove a lot, and this here think piece will start with an “Ikea Poem” (thoughts with some assembly required, but mostly all there).

The Circus

A lady crept into the gas station wearing her mask and played the lottery

alone at some screen

hoping to win her face back? (Probably not)

I stood in line and opted for just a little mayonnaise on my poison sub sandwich

And nobody looks well

Watch out! The air!

Why, they don’t even need to step on us anymore, those ringmasters with their jackboots painted with happy slogans like the circus

Vote for A and get wars and pedophiles, then vote for B and get wars and pedophiles, and it’s almost like that’s on purpose somehow and who killed Kennedy ? we stand around and wonder because wondering is all that’s left in these stands

these cold bleachers

with the trash wrappers blowing in some sad wind

Where you have your jersey and I have mine, different enough to argue over endlessly with the music on indifferent speakers

But

Sometimes I step outside of this circus, peek outside the tent

The great galaxies wheel overhead in the spring night while

frogs speak of eternal spring

while we gather, glad, suddenly looming out of the dark of privately-held opinion

and saying “hey, yeah, you’re crazy but I like you anyway, our frog songs suddenly becoming real

I told my uncle I had found the Lord and he was surprised but now we laugh and he says I should be a preacher and I say maybe I will someday but I’d better finish the Bible first and somehow everything is better

“They” won’t like this next bit, but that’s a good sign, because

I have a candle lit, and so do you, a bit of the Uncomprehendable.

Think Piece, Distilled

I keep talking to people. All different people. Maddow fans and Tucker fans and Jones fans and Biden fans and Trump fans and…

While I’ll never check out of the civic process, is there a civic process to participate in? Vote for A, get wars and pedophiles. Vote for B, and it’s the same. Maybe the uniform is different, the distractions are different. But the result seems the same.

The teams fight endlessly in this circus, and I eat the toxic popcorn, both glued to the show, and participating in it. Is it even real?*

*Does the voice of the ordinary American ever influence the outcome.

I don’t know.

It seems there’s three levels of analysis:

Levels

The first level is partisan politics. Red vs. Blue. A valid question: is there a difference? I intend to keep voting like there is, but that whole “Uniparty” thing keeps nagging at me. No matter what, all I get is war. (And evil.)

And somebody keeps pushing me to hate my neighbors. Distraction is useful at this level. Someone says TRUMP! and then all bets are off, which is exactly how it’s been for a decade. What a useful man he is for anyone wishing for the stability of permanent storms. It’s become the status-quo.

The second level is “society, man.” (Capitalism, national culture, etc.) Dig a video of surfer kids in the ‘60s, complaining about being misunderstood and ill-used…sitting on the beach in the middle of a work day. (I’m getting old.) There will always be beach bums. I think “society” is something to be cherished. The alternative is far worse. (See COVID years.)

But what is this now? Why are so many of us doing poorly? If we’re doing well, it seems to be despite the trend.

The third level is both logical and looney. The battle between Good and evil.

It’s one of those things that you’ll never see proof of, or always see proof of, or even a blend. It makes the most sense, and is both the lowest and highest resolution.

It’s the lowest resolution because it can explain history entirely. It’s the highest resolution because every personal decision is a choice between Good/Evil, Up/Down, Love/Fear, Healthy/Unhealthy, God/Satan, Yin/Yang, whatever you want to call it.

If sin is derived from a Greek archery term meaning to “miss the mark”, then any decision aimed elsewhere earns this label.

It sounds archaic and wacko, but check this: if you’re not aiming up, then where are you pointing?

Well?

What To Do

I haven’t a clue, but I’m always searching.

Keys glimmer in the night. From the east: the dissidents (Solzhenitsyn, Havel):

“The simple step of a courageous individual is to not take part in the lie. One word of truth outweighs the world.”

From the West: the holy texts that I read. (I’m sure the Eastern ones do, too, but I’m of the West.) They seem to take a long view–eternal, in fact.

From my friends: your best ideas–and your (appreciated) low tolerance of my bad ideas. I’m not stumbling around in the ominous twilight to be admired.

An Experiment: Wait Just A Minute

I’m calling for a cease-fire. That’s a trendy word. (Groan.) You can keep shooting, but I’m putting the partisan boom-stick down for a moment. I think we’re all wearing jerseys. Our cherished political points seem to matter as much as rooting for our favorite football teams, don’t they?

What good is “balance” if it’s compromising with both sides the same coin that was earned by selling out humanity, buying entrance to perdition? “Moderate” seems the grooved edges of thirty pieces of silver.

As the dust around me settles, I’m looking around and squinting my eyes: at $4.50 gas. At the “food” in neon packaging. At the clothes that make me look effeminate. At the music always playing in the stores me me me. At everything coming out of Washington for the last thirty years (or more) that’s robbing me blind. At the glare of the screen that I don’t look away from, the nexus of the Anti-Human. This has been happening for decades.

I’m friends with a retired psychologist from India. We’re always talking comparative cultures, and she (positively) psychoanalyzed me as I was talking at her retirement home the other day. We have a great time.

She showed me a cartoon.

“The fourth monkey has emerged. He sees no one, hears no one, and speaks to no one.” (The last monkey is glued to his phone, while the rest cover their eyes, ears, and mouth.)

“Oh, the fourth one is an interesting symbol in the West” I told her.

So let’s try an experiment, friends. I know it sounds crazy. But try it, and let me know what you find. PLEASE let me know what you find.

For the next week, look around and ask: are we in a circus?

(And the natural follow-up question that is earth-moving: If we are in some insane game, what if we decide not to play?)

Let’s see what we find.

But most of all: I love you guys.

–Josh

P.S. Here’s a good photo of something real.