unless one is lucky enough to be killed in one of those epic battles that typify the national identity life is not a team sport
fiction
edward w pritchard
Unless one is lucky enough to be killed in one of those epic battles that typify the national identity life is not a team sport.
Things change. Your old pal the baby who used to sit quietly respectfully silent waiting while you competed a few business matters before you and he tossed the baseball now has to work to pay for the new second car and can't fish, walk along the railway tracks, or sit by the campfire these days.
The plot of life now is secondary to philosophical introspection. Teams are redundant, life is solitary.
Things change.
Tuesday, July 11, 2017
Thursday, July 6, 2017
all the people had to stand in public line
all the people had to stand in public line
fiction
edward w pritchard
Recently I went to an out-clinic of one of the large local hospital chains for my annual blood work for an upcoming Doctor's visit. A merger had occurred corporately with the hospital network so it was necessary to update my records for government supervision of my person which included being electronically fingerprinted for future identification purposes. Going forward both the hospital and government of Ohio shall know that it is in fact me who is fifteen pounds overweight and will have a chance to check my background conduct each time I visit that Hospital should they wish to monitor my conduct for any reason. Hopefully monitoring will be limited to health behaviors only.
That clinic was very busy so I had to take a number electronically at a computer station before I could sit before the technician who performed the finger print scan. After I had to wait with the rest of the patients a while in the lobby to have the actual blood work drawn in the locked medical area. That day at the hospital clinic all the people had to stand in public line only for a few minutes to have their lab work done.
I always feel like Winston Smith from George Orwell's novel " 1984" when I visit the hospital or it's satellites and it's the same with the Government and it's satellites. At the same time, even though I am being monitored, I often find myself humming BB King's " Why I sing the blues" when I have to join " all the people, all the people [ who ] have to stand in public line.
fiction
edward w pritchard
Recently I went to an out-clinic of one of the large local hospital chains for my annual blood work for an upcoming Doctor's visit. A merger had occurred corporately with the hospital network so it was necessary to update my records for government supervision of my person which included being electronically fingerprinted for future identification purposes. Going forward both the hospital and government of Ohio shall know that it is in fact me who is fifteen pounds overweight and will have a chance to check my background conduct each time I visit that Hospital should they wish to monitor my conduct for any reason. Hopefully monitoring will be limited to health behaviors only.
That clinic was very busy so I had to take a number electronically at a computer station before I could sit before the technician who performed the finger print scan. After I had to wait with the rest of the patients a while in the lobby to have the actual blood work drawn in the locked medical area. That day at the hospital clinic all the people had to stand in public line only for a few minutes to have their lab work done.
I always feel like Winston Smith from George Orwell's novel " 1984" when I visit the hospital or it's satellites and it's the same with the Government and it's satellites. At the same time, even though I am being monitored, I often find myself humming BB King's " Why I sing the blues" when I have to join " all the people, all the people [ who ] have to stand in public line.
slow time has silenced me
slow time has silenced me
fiction
edward w pritchard
Slow time has silenced me. So I have taken to looking for my-self.
First I discovered and acknowledged the other. That was long before I could properly talk. Then Love and betrayal. Ho, hum. And impending Death. Slow, slow time again.
Everything else is just a background hum of the gears quietly turning starting with the dawn.
Look up, look down where is me-self. Categorically missing somewhere in the recesses of my brain.
fiction
edward w pritchard
Slow time has silenced me. So I have taken to looking for my-self.
First I discovered and acknowledged the other. That was long before I could properly talk. Then Love and betrayal. Ho, hum. And impending Death. Slow, slow time again.
Everything else is just a background hum of the gears quietly turning starting with the dawn.
Look up, look down where is me-self. Categorically missing somewhere in the recesses of my brain.
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