One of the most basic things to do is turn time into heat. Microwaves happen to be one of the more precise methods of doing this.
I can definitely say I'm tired today. After spending 5 hours cutting though a combination of snow and ice only to have my car unable to climb a snowy hill, combined with a 2-hour trip on foot to the grocery store, I can appreciate various things that I often overlook in a new way.
I'm sure there are others. Also, I can't help but enjoy the photo opportunities. Now if we could only resume our usual schedules... but that won't happen. We're getting another storm in a few days.
Sniffing around yesterday I found this: 'Welcome to the Plutocracy':
...they voluntarily threw out restrictions against corporate funding of campaigns, restrictions that date back to 1907 and have been upheld by every court since then...
While it seems worrying, really all it does is allow corporations to burn more cash into the mass media for political campaigns - neither of which concern me greatly. Consider:
Just as traditional media conditioned the audience to be passive consumers — first of commercial messages, then of products — the traditional organization conditioned employees to be obedient executors of bureaucratically disseminated work orders. Both are forms of broadcast: the few dictating the behavior of the many. The broadcast mentality isn't dead by any means. It's just become suicidal.
In contrast, the Internet invites participation. ...
From something I've read far too late.
I think the court may be being partisan. But I think it's futile. The more people use the internet, the more fractious they become; the more mocking of mass-packaged anything. There are still some bastions - people who lack the will or anger (it seems to be a big factor on the internet) to resist marketing. But I think that is slowly changing. And that is the cause of our recession.
Weighing heavily on my mind today is what I call 'The Returning'. In its very essence, it is a desire, more or less, to crawl back into the womb. But enough criticism! Variously it is expressed in traditionalist language, but it in no way, I think, constitutes real holy Tradition. It might be a yearning for a golden age - one that might have existed or not - a yearning to return to our primordial state by going backwards - and so forth.
The problem with all of this is time, and especially as Christians - the End. Certainly, I would agree that I want to be as Adam was, walking with God, with no need for clothes (which you will note always fit imperfectly; I looked at my feet last night and saw marks from my socks imprinted on them. And such nice socks I have!) and to not be constantly needing to combat evil, but to be free to choose among the many good things and dance the minuet of the cosmic retinue.
I've noticed something about this movement, which I would like to express. A man loves his parents first just because they are his parents; and if his parents are decent folks, it is mostly preference. Storge without Agape. Again most of us probably loved Christianity who were born Christian in this way; affectively. We enjoyed the company and the routine (when things were well) and so forth.
But loving it was not an act of the will really, but more a habit of comfort. And from here comes this kind of traditionalism. We might hark back to the 19th century, for instance, or earlier; whatever. It is all colored by our experience.
The hallmark of this kind of 'mere preference' is a bitterness about the new. It is precisely this preference and desire for earthly comfort which breeds the bitterness that the youth flee from into the cities and the fast life. The bigger and louder the media and the technology, the more rapid the fleeing.
My long awaited
Hither come, seasons and time
It is completed
---
Out of void, ether
Ether, forces; forces, light.
Evening and morn
Gather dust, gather
Fashion for me the heavens
Evening and morn
Behave; water, earth
Make green this terra firma
Evening and morn
Clear sky, and reveal
Signs and sun and moon and stars
Evening and morn
Come forth ev'ry kind
White and moving are the seas
Evening and morn
Tread the earth at last
Man and beast make home and road
Evening and morn
Rest and contemplate
Inner ear hear the song of
Evening and morn.