1/10/26

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Well, this year is off to a roaring start.  

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I occasionally get dumbfounded - genuinely impeded, mentally/spiritually/emotionally - by the absurdity of humanity.  

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In the modern-day tense, we're in the infancy of The Information Age, and as one can attest, no "Age" was without consequence, in its origins.  

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(There I go about "age" again.) 

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But without belaboring the topic, it is with constancy that we choose to disagree.  I envision it as an almost rhythmic cadence, to which I wrote down (what will eventually be song lyrics) the other day:

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Everybody do the 
Zero Sum

Doubledown

Clapback

Misinform

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Everybody do the

False equivalency

Fraud and misery

Unceremoniously

Chastise citizenry 

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Everybody do the

Thirst trap

Troll back

I need to be 

On the map

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Everybody do the

Slow clap

No notes

Just go out

And get the votes

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And then I read this stanza from Act IV, Scene III of Julius Caesar: 

Brutus:

Under your pardon you must note beside
That we have tried the utmost of our friends,
Our legions are brim-full, our cause is ripe:

The enemy increaseth every day;
We, at the height, are ready to decline.

There is a tide in the affairs of men

Which taken at the flood leads on to fortune; 
Is bound in shallower and in miseries.

On such a full sea we are now afloat, 

And we must take the current when it serves,

Or lose our ventures.
We

And I paused to think.  And then I assumed I'd write something far less eloquent about it.  140 characters or less.  
 

Also, have your read Julius Caesar?  There are like 140 characters in five rather truncated Scenes.  Calm down, Willie.  

 

Anyway, a plea for sanity and a wish for contentment is all I've got, heading into the latter stages of the 2020s.  

 

-dp 
140 

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!

12/20/25

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My preoccupation recently has been with memory - not some doting or dwelling on days gone by, but rather, what's gleaned from the comprehensive experience of age. 

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So I wrote this down:

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We used to drink wine

And now we drink coffee

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We used to stomp hard

And now we tread softly

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Our dreams became practical

No longer lofty

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Age thinks and feels thoughtfully.

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And then my internal voice of criticism showed up and said "Shut up, Patterson."

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I figured I'd share it here, anyway.  What else is this site for?  

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It's holiday time, which is usually a good catalyst for contemplation.  I remember a year when I planned a trip to a Maple Leafs road game that I never planned to return home from; the subsequent year, I visited a girl one state over from said road trip, before heading home to say goodbye to my mom for good.  

Out of those memories, however, came forth a progress, of sorts.  An Alice Munro-akin "The Progress Of Love" certainly, and I'm still here - and surrounded by it in its most meaningful forms.  

So 2025 and onward has a little more purpose to it.  Good for filling the chasmic void that otherwise imposes its existential self. 

Also, read some Alice Munro.  She left us this year, and her work is the stuff of life.  

If I'm not back again this year -  Happiest of wishes, y'all. 

 

-dp