money_is_time amy anthropology From this very high perch, I'm rolling in it. My social anxiety prospects have now become greater than the angst of crazed aloneness, and I don't want to change- trusting none of it any longer. Not hoping for redemption. Letting climate change win this round, planning a hundred more. It's ok -and I'm not just saying it! (megatrap) Still, with other priorities out of the way, you'll want to save me because you weren't expecting half of it to be true, and the more taken in by fancy you are the truer it will seem. I can't say if this is right or wrong to put in this effort. It's not that I'm not worth it or that anything in association isn't-- it's the fact of not needing to be saved. Kind of like Scarlet Johannson. Or, what I'm saying is a bald faced lie and there's still plenty of ethical eschatology to consider. OTOH God Save the King never goes away and the end times have been what's hot for a thousand years, weirdly punctuated by the Renaissance & the Virgin Queen. Ppl don't talk about how weird that seems. Boiling it down, I guess. 170722 ... amy anthropology And this, it seems, is itself a trap (for useless resentment). The playing field is not level. Some arrive at school with better pens and notebooks and things. The memory carries into the future with nothing substantial to replace. So we get stuck in the past, having no options for the future. This is white girl stuff, for those white girls involved in the-devil-doesn't-care self-care. Is there a good man to be had? You'd have to be clever to find him. Not bar nor ad nor store. If he's wantable, you've got to think ahead to tenor of your future retrospects. From Gilead by Marilynne Robinson, this is a preacher who was a Civil War veteran addressing a 4th of July crowd: "Children-- When I was a young man the Lord came to me and put His hand just here on my right shoulder. I can feel it still. And He spoke to me, very clearly. The words went right through me. He said, Free the captive. Preach good news to the poor. Proclaim liberty throughout the land. That is all Scripture, of course, and the words were already very familiar to me at the time. But it is clear enough why He would feel they needed special emphasis. No one lives by them, unless the Lord takes him in hand. Certainly I did not, until the day He stood beside me and spoke those words to me. I would call that experience a vision. We had visions in those days, a number of us did. Your young men will have visions and your old men will dream dreams. And now all those young men are old men, if they're alive at all, and their visions are no more than dreams, and the old days are forgotten. We fly forgotten as a dream, as it says in the old hymn, and our dreams are forgotten long before we are. The President, General Grant, once called Iowa the shining star of radicalism. But what is left here in Iowa? What is left here in Gilead? Dust. Dust and ashes. Scripture says the people perish, and they certainly do. It is remarkable. For all this His anger is not turned away, but His Hand is stretched out still. The Lord bless you and keep you, etc. 170723 ... amy anthropology " 170723 what's it to you? who go blather from