Based on my novels’ overall background subject matter, on here as you know invariably some nods are given to the realities of politics. But that’s all. This site is NOT about partisan politics, we’re readers and writers here.
So this post is not some shocking change of pace. It’s not about “politics.” However, a few brief paragraphs of background are unfortunately required for this post if you’ll just bear with me for a moment as you read and scroll down.
Late on Thursday, I had driven my father and sister back to his Pennsylvania house (a 2 and 1/2 hour trip). Yesterday I came back here to the Catskills. I have been so stressed out in the last month over the death of my uncle and especially my mother, I wanted to be alone here in my own house for a few days…. and listen to music, watch the occasional deer, and stare at the scenery:
But that didn’t mean I’d cut myself off completely. Last night, I was chatting with a cousin on the phone. We were discussing my mother and my uncle, and their deaths, and remembering family, such as our grandparents.
Suddenly my wife messaged me – from ENGLAND – asking had I seen what was happening in Paris?
Well, it has been all over the place now. The Charlotte Proudman, human rights barrister, LinkedIn photo compliment-OR-sexism saga has shifted predictably from Twitter and “social media” and has headlined UK “mainstream media” in recent days. In the Independent, Ms. Proudman was given a column to defend herself for a privacy violation (in publishing a private message without the sender’s consent) and explain herself further:
She has received a great deal of support. Other reactions have been negative and critical:
As a man, how do you act when you encounter a woman you’d like to get to know romantically? Possibly, first you briefly forget your own name. After, when you’ve recovered your balance enough perhaps to be able to form a coherent sentence or two, how do you start the conversation?:
Maybe you do summon up the courage to approach her. Here goes. This is it.
The tens of thousands of people tragically trying to reach Europe from North Africa and Syria has – I’m sure you know – been much in the news in recent days. I am also sure you have by now seen “The Picture” (of the Syrian 3 year old who drowned just off Turkey and washed up on the beach). So this CNN piece from a couple of weeks ago is sadly timely:
Italian photographer Valerio Vincenzo has spent the last eight years photographing the EU’s internal boundaries: that’s 26 countries and 16,500 kilometers of borders that can be freely crossed.
His serene images of abandoned customs houses and quiet beaches and woods raise questions about the authenticity of geographical boundaries and national identities.
His project “Borderline, the Frontiers of Peace” will be exhibited at the UNESCO headquarters in Paris in September….
The photos shown are worth seeing. He’s an excellent photographer:
Do you write “angry?” I try not to. However, I will admit there are times when I let loose.
I have all too often sat in front of my PC or Microsoft Surface, found myself feeling infuriated, and slammed keys and took it out on the pages. Briefly, I’d feel better, yes. But after I went back and reread my “tantrum,” I usually toned it down considerably.
For eventually I remember what I’ve also written about here recently. Be careful: your words are forever.