The Rabble in the Rubble

And then there’s the Ruble recently restored in the Ukraine. Beware when the vote goes 97% in favor of anything.  Our Floundering Fathers, some of whom art in heaven looking down, feared the rabble almost as much as the monarchy. In most states only the propertied with at least 60 acres could vote. In New Jersey, alone, (of all places) could women vote…if they owned the requisite land, certainly not those Blacks, merely 60% human (and 40% superhuman). Shake the pumpkin.

We need our rumbles; at least those 4.4 or less. Let London Bridge fall down, My Fair Lady. Even if hurricanes hardly happen in Hartford, Hereford and Hampshire….. anagrammed Hitlers happen. 

So Humpty got dumped and life is scrambled. He wasn’t a bad egg but quakes level us. They are a shared experience. They remind us there really are no borders. We’re all sharing this hurtling piece of spatial dirt. It may take a global event to recognize our brothers and sisters on the stairwell or homeless on the street.

And just when I had my ducks lined up a few chotkes fall from the shelf. It’s that damn balance of power… that fragile peace whose face we’ve grown accustomed to. Just you wait Henry Higgins, you’ll get yours.

A few days ago, 3/14, was Pi Day. In two years it will be 3.1416. We will carry it to four places and then it won’t happen again for a long while. I’ll take a slice of French apple. Putin will have his Crimea and eat it too. We need our fixed points that math offers but we also need our ruptures. The earth won’t hold still for a minute. Call it flux. Call it anything but don’t call me after ten o’clock.

I’ll be dreaming my usual mish-mash where time bends and memories are juxtaposed. Imagine a new color appearing!  Wouldn’t that be a dainty dish to set before the king? Walk, don’t run or you’ll break your crown and the rumbling tumbleweeds will fumble-bumble after.

There’s a joker in the House of Cards. Even a True Defective can see that. Other Spaceys are out there plotting his plotz and his plot in Potter’s Field. How about we start over from this rubble of a government? What’s broke is broke. Never mind Ukraine, Kabul or Caracas. What’s wrong with Kansas? Fix Katrina and Sandy Hook. Quake the Supreme Court. Dump the tea. 

Some say rebels. Some say rabble. Early on our aristocracy we now call Framers feared the turbulence and follies of democracy. It seems now our worry is the institutionalized greed of special interests and their influence on lawmakers. Bring on the quake.

My deaf daughter has been visiting for 8 days. When she smelled the soup she said she hears well with her nose. I have much to learn from her. How to deal with a world that comes at us unexpectedly, from all sides and can be unforgiving.  Know that the tectonic plates below haven’t settled down yet but we can handle their constant agitations.