Propaganda

I’ve been trying to understand Trump’s boat attacks.  Why, especially when he pardons a man at the top of drug trafficking?

This guest essay by Phil Klay in the NY Times today allows me to understand.

Klay begins with this:

When Trump administration officials post snuff films of alleged drug boats blowing up, of a weeping migrant handcuffed by immigration officers or of themselves in front of inmates at a brutal El Salvadoran prison, I often think of a story St. Augustine told in his “Confessions.”

In the fourth century A.D., a young man named Alypius arrived in Rome to study law. He was a decent sort. He knew the people at the center of the empire delighted in cruel gladiatorial games, and he promised himself he would not go. Eventually, though, his fellow students dragged him to a match. At first, the crowd appalled Alypius. “The entire place seethed with the most monstrous delight in the cruelty,” Augustine wrote, and Alypius kept his eyes shut, refusing to look at the evil around him.

But then a man fell in combat, a great roar came from the crowd and curiosity forced open Alypius’s eyes. He was “struck in the soul by a wound graver than the gladiator in his body.” He saw the blood, and he drank in savagery. Riveted, “he imbibed madness.” Soon, Augustine said, he became “a fit companion for those who had brought him.”

We must continue to stay on top of what’s happening, and not allow what happened to Alypius, to happen to us. It’s a horrific manipulation to destroy humanity and the continuing development and evolution of peace, communion, fairness and democracy.

St. Francis
Harmony at Tennessee Valley
Serenity at Muir Beach

Unity

Today I read what E.B. White wrote for The New Yorker after watching Neil Armstrong take his first step on the moon on July 21, 1069.

E.B. White:

The moon, it turns out, is a great place for men. One-sixth gravity must be a lot of fun, and when Armstrong and Aldrin went into their bouncy little dance, like two happy children, it was a moment not only of triumph but of gaiety. The moon, on the other hand, is a poor place for flags. Ours looked stiff and awkward, trying to float on the breeze that does not blow. (There must be a lesson here somewhere.) It is traditional, of course, for explorers to plant the flag, but it struck us, as we watched with awe and admiration and pride, that our two fellows were universal men, not national men, and should have been equipped accordingly. Like every great river and every great sea, the moon belongs to none and belongs to all. It still holds the key to madness, still controls the tides that lap on shores everywhere, still guards the lovers who kiss in every land under no banner but the sky. What a pity that in our moment of triumph we did not forswear the familiar Iwo Jima scene and plant instead a device acceptable to all: a limp white handkerchief, perhaps, symbol of the common cold, which, like the moon, affects us all, unites us all.

Community
Perception
Trusting what Invites
Stepping with Love

Strolling

This morning I was in Greenbrae on South Eliseo for an eye appointment and then in Sausalito.

Training in a rowing scull at low tide
Land of Frogs
Abundance of Frogs
The Sausalito Sea Lion is Back!
One of the models for the sculpture swims by.

Sunflowers

An anonymous neighbor is planting crocheted sunflowers in and around the “hood”.

Here’s ours tied around the trunk of an elderly plum tree.

Our Healing Journey

At the age of 28, my friend Elaine was the whistleblower on the many years of sexual abuse of young men by the minister of Cameron House in Chinatown, San Francisco, Dick Wichman.

This is a beautiful tribute and guide to healing a community, a community of those who were victims, then, survivors, and now thrivers, and those who were and are affected in their love and care for them.

Watch the video on the website in tears and listen, as that is what is asked of us, to listen to the stories of those who were abused, to literally see with new and clear eyes.

Abuse of one is abuse of us all, and many in this community were abused, and come together now in courage, communion, and connection to share their stories and heal.

https://www.ourhealingjourney.org/?fbclid=IwAR0tGXMjGn1aOI-y_JXY07xIIE2XEJyQq8C59IoZxD1e937OvV6dgpa3puc