suffering pandemic

 

SUFFERING PANDEMIC

 

We occupy the common ground of misery.  Pandemic days assault us with banality----stupid mornings and insipid nights. The days assume the habits of a coy mistress who has world enough and time to torment and undo a weak man.  I am not weak, but I am weary.

 

Hope annoys me like gnat who thought my eye was a helipad.  Hand me eye-wash.  I have immoral longings.

 

I discover moments of joy in writing, but writing is emotionally expensive.  The dividends of the effort  invested in writing seem to be disappointingly small, especially if one refuses to auction oneself in a slave market of pure capitalism. Ultimately, refusal is liberating suicide. But death and I are enemies not friends.  I suppose my friend Maximus Wright will lecture me on soul damage. And the lesson may yet save me from the imperfections of my Self.  The damage sharpens my mind, but I will not permit it to destroy my body.i am a half-way good Roman Catholic.

 

Today I happened upon the word "transcriptomic."  What a lovely bit of scientific jargon. I can entertain fantasy about generating data on my RNA transcripts .  On the other hand, knowing what a transcriptome  would reveal is more than I want to bear.  I am happy to be relatively undocumented in the realm of future science.  Lord, help me to keep a safe intellectual distance from a transcriptive shotgun assembly sequence.  I want to enjoy the fact that emerging science is subject to the tyranny of metaphor.  I do not want to lament in a white hole of knowledge.

 

Jerry W. Ward, Jr.            3/15/2021 11:33:44 PM

 

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