ON WHAT HAS COME TO BE CALLED “NEW YEAR’S DAY”, it is traditional in Europe to listen to concerts of Viennese polkas and waltzes, mainly by Johann Strauss II (1825 – 1899). What many do not know is that at that time there was another Strauss in Vienna called Richard (pronounced Rickard, 1864 – 1949). Richard Strauss did admire Johann Strauss’s waltzes, but Richard’s music was in another dimension altogether — a heavenly one. Frankly, I would much rather listen to Richard’s music than Johann’s. I don’t mind the occasional waltz; but a whole concert of them, with encores? Nein danke! Waltzes don’t really go anywhere. They are for emotional dilettantes. One can never get to the real marrow of life (or death) in ¾ time. 😊
PEOPLE ARE SAYING TO ME: “What are you doing on New Year’s Eve?” I say: “Nothing in particular”. They reply: “But aren’t you going anywhere?” When I say: “Nope”, they say: “What? You’re going to be on your own?” (accompanied by a 😥) When I say “Absolutely!” they say: “Oh, that’s terrible!” To which I say: “Actually, it’s fine. The year started really at the Winter Solstice. I was on my own then too. I’m on my own every night. This is who I am: A man on his own. A monk. I’ll be writing. That’s my greatest love”. Then I, far from the madding crowd, will hear the fireworks in the distance and it will sound like war (for war is coming). And I will be glad to be alone… but never lonely. Maybe some will say that I’m a classic introvert. I’m neither an introvert nor an extrovert (I can perform on a big stage without nerves ). I just don’t need an excuse for a booze-up (don’t drink alcohol). I’m not attracted to Vanity Fair (i.e. not entertained by crowd/herd mentality). I love people (but not P-E-O-P-L-E!). I prefer nature to parties-with-a-vengeance (I don’t mind hanging out with good folks). I tend to celebrate beautiful sacred things rather than humanly-invented mass-market junkets. I’m world-weary and would rather shed a quiet poignant tear alone than laugh like a drain in noisy company. These days, quietude and gentleness are far more appealing than brashness and prattle. I would far rather be pioneering newness and imaginative adventure than falling in line with mass madness. I’ve seen too much and gone way too far into the outlands to return. I am a vagrant on the hinterland of time. I won’t object if anyone wants to join me there. So, see you! ❤
© Alan Morrison, 2017
MY ONLY NEW YEAR RESOLUTION FOR 2018 is a Knightly oath which I make each year. (See accompanying image). This oath promotes such qualities as honour, duty, gallantry, diligence, fidelity, cherishment, self-scrutiny, valour, steadfastness, charity, grace, empathy, compassion, etc. I’ve adapted a 1000-year-old medieval English Knight’s Code of Chivalry and am sworn to live by it, to the best of my ability…
BREAKING NEWS: CHRIST WAS NOT BORN ON DECEMBER 25th or on any other day in December! That date was simply a disingenuous attempt a few centuries later to forge a union between the religion of Christianity and the pagan festivities which occurred around that date. Church history has been full of wimpish compromise and the complete betrayal of Christ for 2000 years. He didn’t come to create a religion or a global authoritarian church structure but to light the way for genuine spiritual pilgrims and to warn about the decisive catastrophe coming at the end of the aeon — which is around now! Certain events in the bible show that his birth could not have been in December. For example, it is written that shepherds were watching their flocks in the fields at night (words which have been immortalised in the well-known carol). However, December would have been too cold for that to happen out in the open countryside. Also, the bible says that a census was being taken at the time and Christ’s parents had come to Bethlehem to register. Again, a census would not have been called in December as it would be too difficult for many to travel. The most likely time for Christ to have been born would be sometime in the latter part of September, which can be concluded by checking the timeline shown in the first chapter of Luke’s gospel regarding the conception of John the Baptist and the fact that Christ was six months younger than him. I can understand the importance today of having annual cosy family get-togethers in the dead of Winter when the sun is at its lowest and the temperature is at its coldest. But December 25th is now just an excuse for gift-porn and consumerist-gluttony. Nothing to do with Christ’s birth anyway. A much more pertinent question than “When was Christ born?” would be “WHY was Christ born?” That, my friends, will be the subject of a forthcoming article 😉
© Alan Morrison, 2017
Squishly, out from underneath the cover of his mother’s flesh, he flopped into a state of who-am-I-ness, where no safety is the norm and all the creatures who have taken form continually preen themselves throughout the ages of their many turns until the light goes on and finally they see themselves for who and what they really are [and then the plastic smile is gone and me-me-me’s no more their song]. In his particular case, there was no me to sing about that he could see and so, unable to discriminate the bound-a-ries between his ownsome self and anybody else [for by now he had reached 5 years old] and wholly overwhelmed by what he felt, he made himself a special outer shell which meant that he could see the world from inside looking out but no one else could see when looking from the outside in.