We stand on the practice field in formation.
After pleading four times to be excused, Gordon O'Hara sneers a response.
When the rains come, O'Hara bugles retreat, pleading, "don't run!"
Unlike first, second and fourth chairs, carrying hand-me-down public school symphony horns or tarnished brass marching horns, third chair cradles personal silver.
Third chair runs.
The bell of a crushed silver french horn resembles crumpled tin foil.
A NY Times rememberance of a music teacher in a hardpressed Ohio town who witnesses a student in more affluent days celebrate graduation by smashing a violin (a spare) precedes the story of a gifted prodigy who chooses Sonic short money over studying music.
Has there always been a 'monetize' tab on the blog template?
Christopher Clark's review of High Society in the Third Reich reveals, "a customized policy of tax rebates for the performing arts; artists themselves were left in no doubt that these were individual settlements through which each beneficiary entered into a relationship with the holders of power."
Immediately saying yes after receiving one quote of three to build a fence.
Mitch, may he rest in peace, advised, "you stand where you sit."
After the election, and ahead, Coleman announces if he were Franken he would not waste taxpayers monies pursuing a re-count.
Coleman begins day, waiting, in ritual Orthodox prayer.
Hypocrisy folds.
Landon Thomas writes current English industrial strikes over factory bankruptcies bring back the good old days, "like we are all together now, fighting for a cause."
Nostalgic, even, I suppose, unless you're the one waiting for a train.
Toni's Paul D recalls "then came the miracle. He heard a whiteman call him to help unload two trunks from a coach cab. Afterward the whiteman gave him a coin. He saw a greencrocer selling vegetables. He pointed to a bunch of turnips. The grocer handed them to him, took his one coin and gave him several more. Stunned, he backed away. Looking around, he saw that nobody seemed interested in the 'mistake' or him, so he walked along, happily chewing turnips."
Years ago at the track in Wembley a teller turned down a five pound bet directing the scruffy lad before her to the two pound window.
A fortune to be made left on the table.
For the anxious, the-not-paid, to monetize risks compromising a luxury of options long taken for granted.
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Mathew 16:19 "And I will give unto thee the keys of the kingdom of heaven and whatsoever thou shalt bind on earth shall be bound in heaven: and whatsoever thou shalt loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven"
Whatsoever Thou Shalt Bind...
The camps started back in 1975. We had all known that it was coming. There had been rumblings for years and years. But still we hoped that we might be spared. Hope was one of the few commodities that we still had in excess. In truth, we considered it something of a miracle that it had taken this long. But that was of little comfort to those we had to gather.
Even then there was a certain vagueness that we could exploit. Some room for interpretation. For mercy. The document listed two types. The first were those "whose tendency comes from a false education, from a lack of normal sexual development, from habit, from bad example, or from other similar causes" and were considered "transitory or at least not incurable." Then there were the others who were deemed beyond saving drawn by "innate instinct or a pathological constitution" and "judged to be incurable". Since there were no guidelines laid out on how one might tell one from the other we used our best judgment and erred on the side of inclusion rather than exclusion as was our want.
Of course it necessitated the building of the camps. Even those that were deemed "not incurable" predicated the attempt on our part to try and cure them. And this was the joke. No amount of earnest talk or mandatory lecture would cure them. No amount of divine light seared into eyes held open by silver clamp would cure them. There was nothing to cure. We knew that before even the first wall separating them from the rest of the population had been erected. We knew it before the first scream echoed across the City.
In 1985 their proclivities were judged to be a matter of self-indulgence. We lamented along with the Church their failure to repent and move beyond such desires. A dilemma arose. On the one hand it was made clear that the Church found it "deplorable that homosexual persons have been and are the object of violent malice in speech or in action" while at the same time exulting their "Christian suffering" as the only path through which they might one day come to God.
And so we helped them take up their individual crosses without malice in our hearts. Every lash of pain was borne of love for them. We prayed for their redemption. We told ourselves that their eyes contained not misery but humble understanding. Perhaps even a measure of gratitude. We did these things for them so that they might not be sent away. It was a return to asceticism. In that we soothed our conscience. To refuse to sacrifice one’s own will in obedience to the will of the Lord is effectively to prevent salvation.
There were rumours of angels falling. But it was hard to lend credence to such errant whispers. We had concerns. Of course we did. But we trusted in His enduring love. All would be well.
This trust endured through 1992 and the letter "Some Considerations Concerning the Response to Legislative Proposals on the Non-Discrimination of Homosexual Persons" wherein it was deemed not just legal but moral to discriminate against people on the basis of sexual orientation. Sometimes it was necessary to limit or curtail rights "in order to protect the common good."
And yet this letter caused a schism in our ranks. For it also clearly said that the homosexual had the right "of not being treated in a manner which offends their personal dignity". And how were we to reconcile those two positions? Obviously our camps offended the personal dignity of those kept within. And just as obviously it was in the interest of the Common Good as detailed within the letter that such camps must exist.
Indeed it said that the limiting of rights and freedoms for these individuals was not only licit but obligatory.
We turned to Him for His wisdom but He would not speak on it. He looked out rarely upon His shining creation these days. His shape was different than we recalled. They were made in His image.
Our disagreement blossomed into strife. It was not a War per se. We knew what they were like. More of a disagreement with force. Some tried to tear down the camps. Others to rebuild. Others tried to stop those doing the tearing down or the rebuilding. It was said that some escaped from their imprisonment in all the confusion. And if this is so they will be found and they will be returned. They must be made to see the error of their ways. Even where no error exists. They must come to understand the wonder of His love.
The alternative was to banish them from the City. So it was for their own good that we did these things. It must be so. Or else He would not allow it.
In 2003 the Pope declared recognition of the permanent validity of God's covenant with the Jewish people. The Gates were thrown wide and they were welcomed in. We watched them enter. The Chosen. The Children of Israel. A great struggling straggling press of people. We saw the horror in their eyes. Those that had experienced Hell permanently marked by that experience. Haunted.
We had never seen Hell before. But we had seen that look. There was no more talk of ascetics.
In 2003 the Holy Church called them “evil” and a “serious depravity”. His shape now was other. Sometimes we failed to recognize His presence. Some wondered if it was truly Him. Or if He had left. They in His image. He in theirs.
Can there be forgiveness in Heaven? Can we ever think that we might once again find it? Or deserve it? “Father forgive them for they know not what they do.”
But we know.
We know.
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