the place where words grow

Rain falls on the tin rooftop

He sits down to rest

War is over, if you want it...

What is a legitimate president or prime minister? Has there ever truly been one?

“The major problem—one of the major problems, for there are several—one of the many major problems with governing people is that of whom you get to do it; or rather of who manages to get people to let them do it to them.

To summarize: it is a well-known fact that those people who must want to rule people are, ipso facto, those least suited to do it.

To summarize the summary: anyone who is capable of getting themselves made President should on no account be allowed to do the job.”

But it’s also exactly like the others.

Mixtures and compounds of things.

Atoms.

Electrons and neutrons and protons and waves.

Quarks and gluons and other silly little things.

Matter and energy swirling about in a complex spiral dance, ever outwards, ever towards darkness.

Big, big badaboom...

To a big, big heat death of the universe.

And we float along forever, encapsulated in our little life bubbles on a practically infinite timeline, bumping into other bubbles, coalescing, separating, floating this way and that... forever trapped in that fleeting moment between the first flicker of our consciousness to the end of it.

We are the universe looking at itself from various angles. Lots and lots of angles...