...But of these sophisms and elenchs of merchandise I skill not...
Milton, Areopagitica

Except he had found the
standing sea-rock that even this last
Temptation breaks on; quieter than death but lovelier; peace
that quiets the desire even of praising it.

Jeffers, Meditation On Saviors



A few notes on reparations:
There seems to be an intelligence working in the contemporary cultural landscape that isn't rooted in time exactly.
So that to it everything's already done, and we all just need to tidy up.
Bright ghost mind.

Those of us who are still operating under the illusion that time is moving steadily, or we're moving steadily through it, have a more onerous task, when it comes to the things of the past.
Crime, violation, atrocity, heinous things abounding. And we owe every good thing in our lives to everything that came before us.
People owning swathes of territory their ancestors stole outright, with bloodshed and illegality pervasive. Hey that was my great-grandfather not me.

Imagine that as a rape that results in pregnancy that comes to term, the birth of a child of that rape.
Imagine that child, grown up, mature, having outlived either parent. The victim and the victimizer, now both gone.
So reparations for the crime of that rape would go to whom?

It's this desire to avoid the complicity of identity that's most vulnerable in the claimants, people whose heartfelt desire is for redress for things that are treated as fortunate accidents for the heirs and beneficiaries of them, not crimes that need to be addressed.
But the assaulting forces, the ones who ridicule the claims, are too fucking stupid to figure that vulnerability out, so they fall back on an idiot's view of history.
That it only began around the time of their graduation from middle school.
Everything before that is over and done. Can we just move on?
Dull ghost mind.

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