Monday, October 12, 2015

20151012.0628

I have argued against the observance being conducted today, at least under the name it currently carries. That an observance be carried out in early fall is, itself, okay. That it is dedicated to the memory of an important historical figure associated with the place having the observance is, itself, okay. That it is dedicated to the memory of a historical figure whose prominence derives from idiocy and atrocity--and the former is even taught in the "traditional" narratives into which I recall being indoctrinated in my childhood (and "traditional" education in the United States is indoctrination; the concept of American exceptionalism is cultish, indeed, as are the obligations of en masse oaths)--is not, itself, okay. There are more and better things to celebrate than the jackass Christopher Columbus.

Discussions about the holiday tend, to my observation, to prompt considerations of how many others who have committed atrocity are lauded. Comments about the slave-holding lives of Washington and Jefferson come to mind as examples, and they lead to the useful question of how bad a person can be and still be seen as worth praise. They lead also to the useful question of how much good can derive from evil means. Neither offers easy answers, although both easily open up historical figures to inquiry and critique--which is a good thing. "Accepted" truths should be questioned; that they are accepted is revelatory about their acceptors, as is the nature of those truths.

I was going to go somewhere else with this, but I cannot recall where.

What I do recall, though, is that this past weekend has been a good one, overall. Having my parents and my mother-in-law up has been to the benefit of all of us at Sherwood Cottage. Ms. 8, in particular, has enjoyed having access to three of her five grandparents, squealing in delight for hours on end as she has run from one to the other to the other or sat long in their laps, snuggling against them. That it must end is, of course, as it is, although I cannot say I am entirely glad to see it end. For one, it means that I must get back to my continuing work. (I do not get the observance off here, which is, again, confusing.) For another, it means that Sherwood Cottage will be more empty than it has been, and while that will mean I get to sleep in my own bed again, it is good, from time to time, to have company about the place--especially company that works as well as those who have been here.

By tomorrow, then, things will have returned to as much of a sense of normalcy as ever happens here, and I will have been back at the work of trying to make things right for my wife and daughter. The weekend now passed will help with that, I think, at least in some ways, and perhaps other things will fall into place that will allow me to do so far more than might otherwise be the case.

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