Why I Can See Through Your Brick Wall
And by the way… I also know that you are naked under those clothes. Oh no, you can’t fool me about nothing.
I need to start out a little bit flippant before I bring you with me, right through the brick wall.
I’m afraid that your braincases are 20th and 21st-Century brick walls, metaphorically at least, but actually something else, more substantial. You will see that everything I say is completely wrong, 100%. Which makes me 100% right about you — that I’ve proved you to be 100% wrong. When obviously you are 100% right, and I know this, it puts us all into a very weird paradox. Confusing even to me.
This paradox is only visible to me. You are too close: You *are* the paradox.
Aside from your fears that people might realize that your clothing is a pitiful excuse trying to hide your nakedness, you are absolutely terrified by the fact that you are going to die. You don’t even want to consider that the biggest baby boom ever (my generation) is old enough to die now, and boy are we gonna die in huge numbers! It already has begun.
You all seem to think you have a right to life. That’s your brick wall talking. You were born — all humans were born and always will be… guaranteed to die. If you’ve sat with enough dying people, as I have, you learn that it’s not necessarily horrible and scary and painful. Oh boy, it can be, but usually, it goes ok, all things considered.
The thing is, there’s some reading you might want to try. Cowboy stories, American and Mexican cowboys, and Caballeros: “Wal son, reckon I’m about to cash my chips, but you’re gonna see me take two maybe three of them with me to Hell. Take care of my hoss, won’t ya?”
Louis L’Amour, Zane Grey, Larry McMurtry… cowboys lived rich lives because they saw death coming, all the time.
It’s a rich way of living, and you modern city-dwellers can’t begin to comprehend the depth of the personal and collective absolute denial of death: of your inevitable experience of death. Hell, it was merely every human that ever lived on Earth who has died… so far. You sure must pray a lot. Mourning.
The weirdest thing is that if you’re a Trumpian warrior or a desperate Republican you might truly be right — you might be in exactly in the same spot as a cowboy about to be over-run by Apaches or bandits — within your world, it’s a fight to the death, and you aren’t expecting otherwise.
This is what I’m seeing. It’s also why people don’t understand you. There’s a history lesson involved. Not from me though. This guy, a psychologist/historian, Lawrence R. Samuel Ph.D., will explain:
Death, American Style
Many of us can personally testify that there is often a heavy cost of living longer, healthier lives. The end of life…
In America, death is more a secret than nakedness. That’s the gift that improved medicine and technologies and industrialization gave us. The complete banishment of death as a subject. It simply cannot exist.
Let me explain why I’m the only contrary person on Earth, as far as I can find out through reading and intense search-engine searches — I’m the only (n=1) person who doesn’t care about covid, who in fact likes it, and is disgusted with the cattle called “the human race” being so scared (terrorized) over viral death that they willingly cover their very humanity, their expressions, and their faces, with masks and shields and you better be wearing one too! That’s my feeling. Self-isolating humanity. What joy. I won’t even know if the Apaches scare you when they come.
Jeezus. Me, one person in the whole friggin’ world. Out of 7,800,000,000 people? It appears so… leaves 7,799,999,999 who don’t have a clue. Then again, I’ve just democratically pronounced myself wrong. Helluva paradox.
FRED 01–15–21 Panamá