Netizens

Net repair

Boston, 1970

Suppose these two men grew up in the same nieghbohood, went to the same catholic schools, one of them is employer , the other is employee.

Suppose you worked repairing fishing nets, or may be you are a retired fisherman with nothing better to do with your time so you meet with others in a similar situation, sit around in the afternoon, repair nets and talk.

Alameda Creek

At one time when there were people, there were no jobs.

Of course even before there were jobs there were things that had to be done, but people survived, people did those necessary things. Separate the meaning of job as the idea of a set of work to be done and the idea of someone being paid to do some specific work—Working in elder care is a daunting job or Product Manager is a good job to have.

Being human many, people with varying levels of success enslaved others, as did many who stood against it.

How do we get the kind of justice we need to fix the effects of that?

“Only thank God men have done learned how to forget quick what they ain’t brave enough to cure.”
Faulkner The Hamlet

,In the Christian belief, God expelled Adam and Eve from The Garden of Eden, a place where they never had to work, to a life which required work to survive and only ended in death.

What kind of God is it that would create life?, and death? in the same breadth ? . . .

And then get people to enjoy it so much they would kill each other to get it.

Work is being productive, it enables survival,

How can we ever know? Smell, touch, hear, taste or see? It all feels like a big mess . . .

Can we sit in a big armchair next to a roaring fire on a story winter night and reason out the answer.?or just patiently wait for salvation or at least hoping the light will change and we get our turn.

The Apple maps camera provides mapping answers along Alameda Creek, may be the answer will soon google-able.

EndPaper

Moments of caring: a home some where in San Francisco one afternoon, or maybe I just made it up in photoshop.

Early morning in Vermont

Sometimes I used to visit this abandoned house, it sat alone in a big field, a house, no longer a home, or maybe it never was, after fifty years I could wonder if it is still standing there.

Just driving by along a country road, a rusted run down swing set in the middle of a field.

A memory of my friend Bill, he was 19 years older, he came here all by himself from Japan, when he was young,

Maybe the angle is not write, the eyes looking at different places, the minds blankly sifting through yesterday, or or its just too lonely of an idea to make me feel better.

Last week in the news Chuck Close died, a good place for Gate ,gate,, para gate, parasamgate, Bodhi svhaha.