rhyming reason

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On what I hope will be the year’s last 90 degree day, this sheer striped shirt made in Jamaica seems a sensible choice.  Heading out to a local beach, old trusty cutoffs are the easy winner.
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The button detail in the back adds some  interest. Coordinating blue earrings.
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The color palette of the stripes plays homage to several world flags (in my head).

One crucial point of divergence between indigenous and “civilizing” societies: the importance bestowed upon face-to-face vs. written communications.

For tribal polities accustomed to lengthy rounds of testimonials spoken within the sacred communal space of the longhouse, it must have been all but inconceivable that a piece of paper written perhaps miles away by parties unseen would nevertheless be presented as the voice of authority.

No embodiment, no empathy, no recognition of the complexities that define fully present human interaction.  Instead, a static decree, ignorant of subtlety, binding action to rote advancement in the name of superiority.  The written tract somehow supersedes the world we see.

Life is secondary to the official record.  With papers claimed ascendant, existence falls beneath the screeds. The voices of the People are nothing to heed or need. What else could it mean?

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