The Real Independence Day

Cecilieaux is off for the holiday, but he left behind his now-traditional Independence Day blog post. Happy 2nd!

Today, July 2nd, rather than July 4th, is the actual day that independence of the territories that were to become the United States from Britain was first approved. This came in the form of a resolution that attorney Richard Henry Lee, a Virginian, proposed to the Second Continental Congress.

The brief document read:

    Resolved, That these United Colonies are, and of right ought to be, free and independent States, that they are absolved from all allegiance to the British Crown, and that all political connection between them and the State of Great Britain is, and ought to be, totally dissolved.
    That it is expedient forthwith to take the most effectual measures for forming foreign Alliances.
    That a plan of confederation be prepared and transmitted to the respective Colonies for their consideration and approbation.

The motion was approved by 12 of the 13 colonies. Indeed, John Adams, of Massachusetts, who seconded Lee's proposal, was so certain that a great step had been taken that he wrote to his wife Abigail:

    The second day of July, 1776, will be the most memorable epoch in the history of America. I am apt to believe that it will be celebrated by succeeding generations as the great anniversary festival. It ought to be commemorated as the day of deliverance, by solemn acts of devotion to God Almighty. It ought to be solemnized with pomp and parade, with shows, games, sports, guns, bells, bonfires, and illuminations, from one end of this continent to the other, from this time forward forever more.

Now, 241 years later, the festival is held on the 4th, when the delegates approved the wordier, some would say grander, announcement of the decision by Thomas Jefferson, who composed it in the absence of Lee, who had rushed back to Virginia due to his wife's illness.

In honor of someone born on this great day, however, let us fire off an imaginary firecracker.

The Regeneration of 2020

We, humanity, were adrift.

Men abused women. Caucasians oppressed Blacks and nearly everyone else. The rich and powerful had forgotten noblesse oblige, corrupting corporations to deceitfully seduce all others to greed and envy, reducing governments to institutions that, at best, are mostly adrift.

All of us were, the best of our personal abilities, despoiling our planet and sole native home.

Then came a pandemic and we got a chance to survey the world from our little caves. That’s when the need for regeneration became obvious to me. In biology, regeneration is a process of renewal, restoration, and growth that allows everything from cells and organisms to entire ecosystems to overcome natural fluctuations, or episodic disturbance or damage.

As a man, I recognize in pornography and erotic literature our savage pollinating fantasies of women as the source of sexual satisfaction available for the taking, penetrating, and controlling, at our whim. When I hear of domestic murder, gang rapes, sex trafficking, I realize that a #MeToo movement cannot stop this. Feminist research can’t rectify this.

We men need to be healed.

We need an outward regeneration, from the cells in our spinal cord and from the deepest recesses of our psyches. We need to cleanse society of all messages, supports, tradition, socialization, imagery and propaganda inducements to ravage and conquer women that have developed over thousands of years.

The same applies to Caucasians, the rich and powerful and their institutions, and indeed to all of humanity.

Even the oppressed and less fortunate have to change. Women have often enough enslaved themselves to fantasies of beauty sustained by malevolent industries. Non-Caucasians have absorbed notions of a tribal hierarchy of ethnicity, nationalities, and races.

No one is free of blemish.

After the pandemic, if we survive, we need to start a process of regenerating humanity.

My Transitional Year

The first full year of transition into retirement.

The first few mornings I came to my computer at the early rush hour and looked out my window to the busy thoroughfare on which I live. There were the lines of cars and buses, with passengers in suits and office apparel. I laughed.

“Suckers!”

I had first gone to work as an adult, with the end of a working life nowhere in sight — nay, unthinkable! — in 1975. I just added it up: forty-two years, longer than my older son has been alive.

My working life finished Dec. 29, 2017, with no working days left, so January to January is a fair measure of being retired rather than on a weekend.

I first came to retirement with a project and a schedule in mind: a blog I would turn into a book — check that as done — and a plan to walk the 8 blocks to a nearby library with my laptop in a new backpack. There I would edit my work and do some net surfing thanks to taxpayers like me, who delight in paying taxes so long as they go to schools and libraries and such.

Oh, I was also going to go room by room, one a month, chucking all the useless stuff I never had the time to sift from the treasures, then reorganizing the latter in an orderly way.

Those were the best laid plans of mice and men ...

I did complete the blogbook and published it as an ebook in November. You can read about it here Discover How a Faith Became Christianity — Even if You Skipped Sunday School and learn where to get it. (Hint: Google Play, Barnes & Noble, Amazon, other places.)

My walking to the library fell off somewhat.

Instead I gained a volunteer gig at a place called Samaritan Ministry, where I now help folks write their resumes and apply for jobs online.

My cleanup of my home stopped at my study in the third month, having done what could be done to the bedroom and bathroom.