Henry James died on this date, the 28th of February, 106 years ago, in 1916, in the middle of the Great War.
He wrote: “Life is, in fact, a battle. Evil is insolent and strong; beauty enchanting, but rare; goodness very apt to be weak; folly very apt to be defiant; wickedness to carry the day; imbeciles to be in great places, people of sense in small, and mankind generally unhappy. But the world as it stands is no narrow illusion, no phantasm, no evil dream of the night; we wake up to it, forever and ever; and we can neither forget it nor deny it nor dispense with it.”
People like Beck Spelman confront the world as it is and by doing so they make it better. They name problems which others deny and that naming is the first step to solving any problem.
Becky Spelman calls out arrogant bureaucrats at the Melbourne Freedom protest on 26/02/2022
Today is the 80th anniversary of the first day of the World War Two battle which lead to the fall of Singapore.
Singapore fell because much larger British forces could not accurately assess either the size of the enemy or the nature of the British ruled terrain through which the enemy travelled. The British forces couldn’t even talk with each other.
They couldn’t live in The Word. So they lost.
Today my life in the police state of Victoria is in ruins like so many other lives here. That never would have happened if people in Terra Nullius could talk with each other instead of habitually denying each other the basic act of recognition as human beings.
This morning I wrote the poem below for three of them. A trinity. At the end of a service last Sunday to celebrate the 1953 coronation attended by my grandfather Ralph Blanchard and his wife Doris, I remember them in their doorway with their backs to me.
They are human beings without the time to really talk with me. Somewhat powerless. A modern and ancient police state disease. Scribes. Pharisees. Teachers. Doctors. Parents. Priests.