Disease X and Doctor WHO

Let us have our craze garbed in white, madness made moral by Quacks and money

Science sez witches are the cause of all ills-and if I don't agree I buy better science. Once there was a witch craze. Now there is a pestilence scything humans down detected only by trained medical experts, and wealthy merchants, men of high degree, in London they do dwell. Customs simmered and the cultural fish is changed, but man too little. Cubicle Culture triumphed by educating the Baby Boom and the children of the Baby Boom and their children. Creating square heads by lies and tricks to allow no thought to change direction. Lockdown and masking inside the idea of fear.

Gabriel Marcel always said he did not intend to present a philosophical system, but rather a path of inquiry that would that would at the same time be a spiritual path.  He emphasized a distinction between “being” and “having”. For Marcel, our beliefs and the things we care about are not things we “have”, but rather should be considered as part of our being. He emphasized believing in rather than believing that.

Marcel spoke of “ontological exigence” as a need for what he called transcendence, and insisted that this transcendence must be experienceable, but that it is experienced as something entirely beyond our grasp. He distinguished between external “problems” that do not involve the questioner’s being, and instances of “the mysterious”, in which the question does involve the questioner’s own being.The World Is Too Much With Us

BY poetryfoundation.org/poets/william-word…

The world is too much with us; late and soon,

Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers;—

Little we see in Nature that is ours;

We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!

This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon;

The winds that will be howling at all hours,

And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers;

For this, for everything, we are out of tune;

It moves us not. Great God! I’d rather be

A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn;

So might I, standing on this pleasant lea,

Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn;

Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea;

Or hear old Triton blow his wreathèd horn.

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DISCLAIMER:   The Journal of Lingering Sanity is a reader-supported publication from Old Gold Mountain (Chinese: 旧金山. We are beholden to truth not party.  “The time has come," the Journal said, "To talk of many things: Of shoes—and ships—and sealing-wax— Of cabbages—and kings— And why the sea is boiling hot— And whether pigs have wings.”