How strange it has become and how strange it all is. But it seems to

      stop at – is.  Now, I have to go with the ritual deprivation angle here.

          Rituals are more than lighting candles (how archaic is that?) or feasts or

     murdering trees or trips to the dentist. They are shared common experiences

     which may provide social cohesion. To this effect, rituals can reinforce social

     distinctions or, they can overcome social distinctions creating homogeneity

     over larger aggregated populations.

          Rituals also provide for us, the anticipation of events, which we take

     for granted, that will occur. Anything taken for granted can become the

     dreaded false sense of security. In this universe at least, nothing has-is-will be


            I never cared for digital clocks. They suggest to me that Time just moves

      forward in a straight line through infinity. In an unorganic concept, this might

      be so but that is not my experience of it. Mine is a sense of circles.

      Sun up, Sun down. Moon up and then down. Start all over again.

            Circles. Everywhere. When time is reduced to a straight line, to me, it

       becomes as the unsettling void of distance at sea when land is beyond sight.

       When sailors of antiquity were troubled by the immeasurable distances of

       the oceans, what did they do? They consulted the circles. Circles do not lie.

       They do not conceal or guide us falsely.

            Now, many of us and in varying degrees, all of us, are out to sea without

        an astrolabe. Bereft our rituals, time takes on a distinct shapelessness.

        The future once so dependable, now lurks below the surface. At least on 

        shit creek you know what direction things go,  paddle or not.  

                                                                                         Spring is on Her way

                                                                                         Now there's a ritual

                                                                                         To count on,

                                                                                                 Bet the cave on.


                                                                                                           You bet      

  "Fourscore and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent a new nation, conceived in liberty and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal. Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation, or any nation so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great battlefield of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field as a final resting-place for those who here gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this. But, in a larger sense, we cannot dedicate — we cannot consecrate — we cannot hallow — this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us — that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion — that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain — that this nation shall have a new birth of freedom and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth."