Well, as you probably know*, it’s Monday again.  I’m not excited about it either, believe me, but I was given no input into the matter, so don’t blame me.

As you may also know, I did not work this last Saturday, because several unexpected absences concatenated (I’m not sure that’s good usage) to make it pointless for the office to open, so we did not open it.  Instead, I took advantage of the day off and went on a bit of a trek.

I walked to the bank‒a new branch, or at least one I haven’t used in the past‒and then continued on a few more miles to the Yellow Green Farmers Market, which is quite a nice little place that’s only open on the weekends.

Just outside the market, I saw an amusing collection of signs that I suspect one would not ever see at a farmers’ market in the northeast.  I’ll insert a picture here.

Anyway, I was neither openly carrying nor carrying concealed firearms, and I used no bike, scooter, or skateboard, so I was fine.  I walked around a bit, had a lovely apple and ginger tea and three empanadas, then walked back toward the house by a different route.  Finally, I got back to the Hollywood train station, where I decided to get an Uber the remaining distance back.

I had already walked several miles, and I was rather fatigued.  I could also sense that I had gotten a bit sunburned (which I had).  Anyway, in the end, I walked almost exactly ten miles on Saturday.  This is based on agreement between my pedometer and the map estimate, so I think it’s reasonably accurate.

We used to say “close enough for government work” about things like that, back in the day, implying that governments don’t work very hard to get things too right.  However, nowadays, in the US at least, I feel that it would be better to say “too close for government work” because accuracy and precision, let alone duty and beneficence, seem to be anathema to our current administration.  Let us say as little as we may about competence.  That bit is just deeply embarrassing.

Let’s see, is there anything else that’s at all worth discussing?  I don’t know; “worth” is such a subjective concept.  In my subjective assessment, much of what I do on any day, in any week, in any year is of no worth whatsoever.

Not everything falls under that umbrella.  Everything I did that led up to my children being born is absolutely worthwhile to me.  Nor jot nor tittle would I change of it.  After that, though, things degenerated rapidly.  Again, this is from my point of view, but that’s the only one I can actually have.

I can imagine other points of view.  I can try to see things as if from another point of view, simulating other minds within my own.  So can you, probably.  It’s a very useful attribute shared by most naked house apes.  I think my own capacity to do so‒which is not inherently very good, it seems, probably due to my ASD‒was greatly enhanced by reading a lot of fiction starting from when I was quite young.

Reading is very different from watching a movie or a TV show or even a play, because with reading one can more or less literally “hear” the thoughts of the characters‒and I think this is one of the truly great things about written fiction.  I think if more people spent more of their lives, particularly in childhood, reading written fiction, the world would be, in consequence, a better place by most reasonable measures.

Unfortunately, for many people in the world, the only fiction they read is stuff like the Bible and the Koran.  Not that there’s anything wrong with reading them per se‒I’ve read parts of one and all of the other, myself‒but though they are anthropologically interesting, they are not terribly well written, nor are they coherent, nor is there any unity to their styles.

This is a bit puzzling, given some of the things the books claim for themselves.  Then again, politics frequently demonstrates that people don’t seem too worried about coherence and logic and quality, so one can say and claim almost anything one wants, and some people will embrace it.

DMX said, “Talk is cheap, motherfucker!”  Aye, that it is.  And yet, people will pay through the nose for it, and sometimes, the more worthless it is, the more eagerly they pay.

If given a choice between cheap but big and gaudy fake plastic jewelry and some truly valuable, rare gem that is subdued in character, people seem to pick the plastic nearly every time.  They do this even when they know the difference.  They cannot seem to resist the superficial bling.

Mind you, if it’s just for decoration, the superficial bling is okay as far as it goes.  Especially if it’s going to be transient, like holiday decorations, the cheap and gaudy stuff can be ideal, because one doesn’t have to worry about damaging it; it’s all about a look, an impression, anyway.

But when one wants something durable, something useful, something with depth, it’s best to work with things that are not mere surface shimmer.  One does not want to build factories and fire trucks and skyscrapers and farm equipment out of Papier-mâché, Elmer’s® glue, plastic beads, and glitter.

All right, I think that tortured chunk of rhetoric demonstrates that I have nothing further to say today that’s worth sharing.  Probably that’s true every day, from midnight to midnight.  Silence, I suspect, is probably my ideal mode.

*This is presuming** that most, if not all, readers tend to read my posts on the day they are released.

**I know, I know, when I presume I make a pres out of u and me.  And right now, a pres is not a prestigious thing to be, though there was a time in the past when it was.