I read some this week and have nothing earthshaking to report. The world as we knew it last week is pretty much the same this week. I did run into some mention of Joseph Stalin, who somebody describes as “Genghis Khan with a telephone,” and for a moment there, I thought it was funny. Mention of T. S. Eliot reminds me of “the boredom, and the horror and the glory.” Then there was F. Scott. Fitzgerald who wanted to be “twenty two again,” and Picasso who wanted to fight ‘brutality and darkness” with his paintings. All in all, interesting people, but I’ll settle for Albert Schweitzer, who didn’t say I, yay, or nay, but lived his life quietly, in the middle of black and gloomy Africa, helping people, and had a reverence for life not found (at least by me), in anybody else I’ve read so far this week. Next on my list is Oswald Spengler and Isadora Duncan. We’ll see what those two cats are all about. As always, we meet to discuss the world’s foremost problems, or perhaps dwell on the lack of any new and exciting ones. N. Korea with a Hydrogen bomb? Yawn. Donald, Ted, Hillary. Yawn, yawn yawn. Somebody comes in to breakfast with a Kalashnikov? Okay. Not so yawn, but I doubt it. Still, there’s two days until we meet, and maybe something new and exciting will happen between now and then. The Cowboys?? We can only hope.
mt