our daily (b)read

“Love the quick profit, the annual raise,

vacation with pay. Want more

of everything ready-made. Be afraid

to know your neighbors and to die.

And you will have a window in your head.
Not even your future will be a mystery
any more. Your mind will be punched in a card
and shut away in a little drawer.

When they want you to buy something
they will call you. When they want you
to die for profit they will let you know.
So, friends, every day do something
that won’t compute. Love the Lord.
Love the world. Work for nothing.
Take all that you have and be poor.
Love someone who does not deserve it.

Denounce the government and embrace
the flag. Hope to live in that free
republic for which it stands.
Give your approval to all you cannot
understand. Praise ignorance, for what man
has not encountered he has not destroyed.

Ask the questions that have no answers.
Invest in the millenium. Plant sequoias.
Say that your main crop is the forest
that you did not plant,
that you will not live to harvest.

Say that the leaves are harvested
when they have rotted into the mold.
Call that profit. Prophesy such returns.
Put your faith in the two inches of humus
that will build under the trees
every thousand years.

Listen to carrion — put your ear
close, and hear the faint chattering
of the songs that are to come.
Expect the end of the world. Laugh.
Laughter is immeasurable. Be joyful
though you have considered all the facts.
So long as women do not go cheap
for power, please women more than men.

Ask yourself: Will this satisfy
a woman satisfied to bear a child?
Will this disturb the sleep
of a woman near to giving birth?

Go with your love to the fields.
Lie down in the shade. Rest your head
in her lap. Swear allegiance
to what is nighest your thoughts.

As soon as the generals and the politicos
can predict the motions of your mind,
lose it. Leave it as a sign
to mark the false trail, the way
you didn’t go.

Be like the fox
who makes more tracks than necessary,
some in the wrong direction.
Practice resurrection.”
― Wendell Berry



if you don’t love it, don’t do it

That being said, I realize not all of us can quit our jobs. There’s mouths to feed, mortgages to pay, debts piling up around our ears…But if you’re feeling courageous, why not be happier? Quit. Here’s your definition of the day to tell you why: job. (1) A low mean lucrative busy affair. (2) Petty, piddling work; a piece of chance work. [Johnson’s Dictionary]                    NB: (Samuel) Johnson’s dictionary was published in 1755 in London. Ok, so Dickens, who showed us how dreary it all was, came a bit later, but I’m sure 60 years prior was not all roses. What? That’s just the definition of one man, you say? We don’t have enough fingers and toes to count all the people who hate their jobs. And not just dislike, but despise. We all know it. It’s the elephant in the room. What a sad, sorry state we’re in, where we’re putting up with the status quo because we’re scared of change (add your reason here). Devil known. Devil unknown.  How can we keep doing it? Alcohol sales seem to be on the rise. Too bad there’s no laudanum anymore. Oh, this is terribly glum-sounding. I’m so sorry. make a list of your loves. then follow through with them. don’t ever look back. x