The dark ages

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Back at Annapolis, where I graduated a long, long time ago, we called the daze between Christmas and spring break 'the dark ages.' Pouring through the single-paned windows of Bancroft Hall, chilling your bones on the banks of the Severn River, the cold hard winds of February carried nothing but gloom and despair. Larry, a goofy kid who lived across the hall from me, tried to kill himself the first winter I was there. Vic actually succeeded the following year, giving in to the misery of too much discipline, too much testosterone, and too little sunlight.

Twenty-five years later, my own father killed himself during the dreariness of the Dark Ages. Left alone in their little brick house after my mother's quiet passing, he must have found too little to live for in the skeleton trees and brown grass that surrounded his tidy home. Depression runs deep in my DNA.

These days the dullness of short, hard days continues, made more intolerable by the insanity of politics as usual. The ineffectual Senate in Washington. The sad unfolding of the Jim Black saga. The Party of Greed. The war. The deficit. And the millions of scared people scratching out their lives while people who are Puppetmasters connive to keep them down. Let the markets rule, they say. Let the brown people pick our tomatoes. The infighting, the backbiting, the heart frightening. It is almost too much to take.

In these darkest of days, the battle runs hot near the surface. On one side, free market fundamentalists who thrive on division and despair. On the other side, progressives who crave engagement for the common good. It's an age old story. Aristocrats and peasants. Bosses and workers. Masters and slaves. The new American caste system, where profits matter most.

These are the times that try our souls, at least mine anyway. I can't wait till spring.

Comments

Beautiful and chilling

you paint pictures with your words A....come on Sunshine and warm weather...we need you now more than ever!

No matter that patriotism is too often the refuge of scoundrels. Dissent, rebellion, and all-around hell-raising remain the true duty of patriots.

Progressive Discussions My Blog at The Pilot online.

Now where did I put that map of the treasure?

The dark ages of politics and Man am I down* paraphasing A

Cheer up old dude, look on the bright side of pop culture and politics, you could be the father of Anna Nicole baby and sitting on a 322 tons [ $8.2 Billion] of 100 dollar paper notes that went missing in Iraq without a trace of a receipt or any paper work.

Have you check lately with some of your old classmates who appear to be rich Admirals showing no means of pension support?

We call it the Febru-wearies...

those cold, overcast, and often damply cold days that suck one's spirit. We used to get away to somewhere this time of year, either for sunlight (sailing in the Virgin Islands) or enlightenment (Europe) but we haven't done so in 5 years. That's when my dad came to live with us after my mom died. He'll be 90 this year and has poor sight and just isn't who he used to be...so we watch over and see to him. In-home care in our area runs minimum of $14/hr...so a week away would be over $2400. That's just not possible.

One cheery thing to do this time of year is to have a wood fire...smell the smoke...and watch the sparks rise up. We do that a lot.

And, here's a offer...next time you come this way, let us know. We do have a pretty slick boat...and there's nothing like a day on the water...lunch at the Bluewater grill..and some good conversation about battling the "dark forces" to ease the wearies. Ya'll come! :-)

Stan Bozarth

That's Why

The theme of this week's Tarheel Tavern is Utter Transformative Joy. More about it here. Send your submissions to me by Sunday morning at 7a.m.

The Februwearies and Dark Days leave my head as muddy as a Turkish sewer, and it takes focused efforts to keep me from hunkering down in the bed reading physics and fiction all winter.

The time of year triggers memories of bleak days.

I'd go about cheering you up, but I'm a fan of underrating the ticklish heat of happiness. The Dark Days are as much our lives as the days of light and joy.

Scrutiny Hooligans - http://www.scrutinyhooligans.us

The Dark Ages

I have seen those same winters. Except we exchanged Bancroft for McDowell, and instead of discipline we had some of the darkest and toughest philosophy ever written.

Annapolis is a bad place. Thanks for the diary A.

Draft Brad Miller -- NC Sen ActBlue :::Petition

"Keep the Faith"

Zabouti! I've missed you!

I enjoy this time of year too....dark dreary days give me permission to enjoy curling up with books. I always feel like I have to accomplish something big on bright sunny days. I don't know why - maybe it's the fact that my father used to wake us at the crack of dawn each morning with "sun's up and time's a wasting" whether we actually had anything to do or not. It's not like we lived on a farm for heaven's sake. What were we going to do, herd the dust bunnies and plow the back quarter acre?



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Vote Democratic, the ass you save may be your own.

From my book

Near the bottom of the bag, he finds a heavy silver bracelet covered with a jumble of wild engravings. He rinses off the sand, the tang of precious metal seeping like a song into his wobbly fingers.

Pipes clang in the bathroom, breaking the silvery spell, signaling the end of the shower. He sets the bracelet on the counter and goes to start the laundry.

He notices a syrupy dribble on the Tide bottle and wipes it with a towel. He finds smudges on the dryer door and polishes them away with his sleeve. He eyes a herd of dust bunnies trembling in the corner. He turns on the washer and leaves.

Well I'll be damned

I guess you can herd them. :)

When are you gonna get that book finished, A?

Robin Hayes lied. Nobody died, but thousands of folks lost their jobs.



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Vote Democratic, the ass you save may be your own.