Zero.
I opened this thinking to write something short and witty related to scraping frost off of my beat-up Civic (Arsenal, Dartmouth, HRC, and rainbow stickers prominent) and how much of a pain in any ass that is, but people I don’t know personally (whatever that, in 2018, means) unintentionally dissuaded me. I’m torn. Part of me wants to swear fealty to the chaos and just respond when asked, “Who rules here?” answer “No one and never.”
Part of me just wants to be left alone, to pursue what mind beyond Tennyson’s bounds may drift.
What I fear is the adoption of neither, rather of “leave us alone. This is not our fight.” Now, “Game of Thrones” is a fiction based on a fiction. But the underlying themes are present with us at our gyms, on our subways, in our boardrooms, at our food trucks, our reflecting pools. Physical space belongs always to those who control it. The mind and the spirit, however, obey no one. Free to stalk the discarded dreams of stars dead long ago, fire and light reaching us millennia after their extinguishing. …almost makes one believe in light or something akin to, say, redemption?
