Quixotic

Ruminating on what my next blog subject should be, I have mentally revisited many of the dyspeptic subjects I have railed about over these last months: the Obama scandals, the creeping caliphate, the overheated money machines of most of the world’s central banks, the cult of the “climate changers,” our nation’s glitterati worship, the pending immigration debacle, etc. … and have concluded that I am tilting at windmills.  I can see no progress on any of my stomach grinders … nor do I see any developments that might bring about any progress … or even “hope” of any progress.

Our nation, nay our world seems stuck in a backwater.  Tired old shibboleths are recycled as brand-new insights.  International “leaders” are hiding under their desks … hoping that they can survive events long enough to flee to their dachas or their yachts or their golf courses.  There is nothing uplifting about the rhetoric emanating from these poobahs.  Even lesser luminaries’ graduation speeches seem so self-serving and short-sighted.  I sometimes can smell the scent of impending doom … and quickly waft a sweet sachet under my nose. Yes, the stock market keeps going up … which should bring us some comfort.  But many realize that this is probably just another forming bubble.

What to do?  Should I stop fretting about the world’s dislocations?  Should I stop reading the news or listening to talking heads.  Should I retreat to nature … or religion … or alcohol?  Should I seek out a Sancho Panza who will help me into my armor and keep me from falling off my horse?  No, I think one emotional balm might be to watch my grandchildren discover the magic of living … as my wife and children help them blossom. 

I might even still blog a bit ...