Einstein was wrong. We do not live in a space/time continuum. Our bodies live in space. We live in time. All life lives in time. When our bodies cease to function they change their appearance. We do not change our appearance. We disappear. Our time ends.

I love it when I find someone’s work which is both in contrast to my own and different from other work on the net. Check out Nancy Goodman Lawrence.

The woman I based this piece on is an intelligent, engaging, and good natured sort. She is on public television quite a lot and I quite enjoy her insights into the events of the day. Sounds like I’m apologizing.

This is my definition of God.

It has seemed to me over the years that becoming a successful artist in Canada is like applying for a position in the civil service. Art grants are a gauntlet of ass kissing. And then there are the teaching positions available in our academic institutions. More ass kissing. When I was a student at the University of Windsor, Morley Callaghan was teaching a creative writing class. He asked everyone in the class who was interested in learning to become a writer to put up their hands. Then he suggested that they drop the course, and go out into the real world and listen.

Why do we want to be scared? Out of our minds? Why do people laugh when someone sneaks up behind someone and screams ‘BOO!’ It feels prehistoric. Like we tap into some awful terror that stalks us from our ancestral past. Would it work on an alien? I think I’d like to try on Prime Minister Harper. I’ll bet he doesn’t flinch.

Many years ago. A tall awkward looking girl staggered through the campus with her two friends. They were drunk. She saw me and gave me a kiss. Asked me to call her the next day. And not to forget her. I did not call her. But I never forgot her.

We need a God. All the great works of art. War – the conquest of one group over another. The sacrifices.  The accumulation of wealth. Valor. Honour. The pledges of love. The waste. Time lost. For everything. If our civilization disappears. As it will. Like so many before it. And everything returns to dust.  We need to feel that someone noticed we were here.

I started a new series on my other blog sight called The Lives of Dead Jazz Singers. It is a series about female jazz singers. The sight is called the power of h.

Evil. On a large scale. One thinks of Adolf Hitler. Before the 20th century, perhaps one thought of Attila the Hun. Or Genghis Khan. But what is it about this monster, Hitler (even his name has a ring of the frightening) that makes one nervously curious? Germany was one of the most civilized of nations. It was the crib of Mozart and Beethoven, Kant and Hegel. It is as if Jack the Ripper became head of the Disney Studios.