MONDAY, DECEMBER 28, 2020
With plans for the coming year: Frankly, we don't get it.
Our computer seems to have self-corrected, possibly with an assist from us. (For Sunday's discussion, click here.)
The same thing happened at some point over the summer, causing us to buy a new computer. But before we took the new computer out of the box, the old computer self-corrected, possibly with the same assist from us.
Yesterday, we finally took the new computer out of the box. We may install it, or attempt to install it, over the coming weekend.
Meanwhile, according to our calendrical team, a new year is about to begin. It may be time fro a new computer, and for a new focus here.
That new focus at this site would concern the current views within Our Town concerning matters of gender and race. Rather, concerning matters of gender and "race," or perhaps "so-called race."
(Within the brutal history of our nation and globe, it's a very important matter.)
This week, we plan to lower our output a bit, taking a semi-sabbatical. In part, this will be a nod to our computer woes, which could always return, but also to the end of the year, a time which may call for reflection.
For today, we'll offer this first year-end snapshot:
Samson chose not to strike over the weekend. More metaphorically, he chose not to pull the temple down around him.
As with our computer's apparent self-correction, this decision by our modern-day Samson was a source of temporary relief. The background goes like this:
Years ago, Samson is said to have pulled the temple down around him. The leading authority on his conduct describes that conduct like this:
The Biblical account states that Samson was a Nazirite, and that he was given immense strength to aid him against his enemies and allow him to perform superhuman feats, including slaying a lion with his bare hands and massacring an entire army of Philistines using only the jawbone of a donkey. However, if Samson's long hair were cut, then his Nazirite vow would be violated and he would lose his strength.
Samson was betrayed by his lover Delilah, who, sent by the Philistines officials to entice him, ordered a servant to cut his hair while he was sleeping and turned him over to his Philistine enemies, who gouged out his eyes and forced him to grind grain in a mill at Gaza. While there, his hair began to regrow. When the Philistines took Samson into their temple of Dagon, Samson asked to rest against one of the support pillars. After being granted permission, he prayed to God and miraculously recovered his strength, allowing him to bring down the columns, collapsing the temple and killing himself as well as all of the Philistines.
Way to go, Delilah! At any rate, shorn of his liberty though not of his locks, Samson pulled the temple down around him, vanquishing those he loathed.
In the past four or five days, our current Samson, Commander Trump, had been displaying instincts which made us think of the original Samson. The theory on the current commander has always gone like this:
He hailed from Queens—and the swells in Manhattan never accepted him as one of their own. Over the years, he'd developed a (possibly murderous) sense of resentment and rage.
Now that he'd been turned out of office, would the commander, in his fury, go so far as to bring the temple down around him? In our view, the worst manifestation of this impulse would involve an act of war, possibly involving the use of nukes.
Needless to say, the commander could still take that approach between now and January 20. But he's now withdrawn from the threat that he would pull the budgetary temple down, harming millions of people in the process.
In the past few days, it seemed to us that we might be entering the period of temple destruction. At this point, it seems that the commander may have drawn back from that threat.
We still have more than three weeks before the commander-in-chief is scheduled to leave office. In our view, there's no obvious way to know what this highly disordered person may yet decide to do.
For today, our computer seems to have self-corrected, as has our highly disordered commander-in-chief. We wish a computer technician could examine our faltering machine—and we'd still like to see upper-end mainstream journalists speak to (carefully selected) medical experts about the possible state of the commander's mental health.
It seems to us that the commander is some version of "ill." We normally feel sympathy for such people, after removing their ability to harm others and/or themselves. (We "pity the poor immigrant," as Bob Dylan metaphorically wrote.)
In Nashville, it seems that someone pulled the temple down around himself on Christmas morning. At least for now, it seems that our commander-in-chief may be pulling back from such thoughts, though there's more than three weeks to go.
Coming this week: Additional year-end snapshots, computer willing