The Cold Hand of God on His Arm

 Shakespeare spoke and wrote of a time that was, "out of joint."  A time when the music of the spheres (planets) was in discord rather than concord.  Music with the wrong sound from the wrong chords.  We all know the vicissitudes of normal life,  but there are times, like right now when the entire universe seems out of synch.  

People sometimes say, "I'm snakebit" to describe the experience.  Yet when it seems like the entire universe is affected, it calls for a bigger idea.  Like the year 1968, our culture here in the U. S. of A seems to be going through this kind of reality.  As the world we knew 54 years ago, our country is incredibly divided.  We have an ever-increasing income gap and what we once knew as a generation gap and a credibility gap have been replaced by value shifts and calling out liars for what they are: liars.

    As a child of the 60s, myself, I vividly recall that feeling of pervasive fear that came with my possible future being wrapped up with the unpredictability of the Vietnam War, a nuclear war, and living in a country where one's political belief could evoke anger and violence that was easily life-threatening.  Our counter-culture was enraptured with "Peace" because the world we were living in was anything but peaceful.  

So now, as the world places its eyes on the atrocities coming out of Ukraine daily, that old familiar feeling returns.  What we have now witnessed rivals the imagery and horror of WW II.  Some would call it surreal, but is that really the correct word? Surreal gets misused all the time.  People who mean that something is unbelievable or unreal, often say surreal.  But there is an element of the bizarre in surreal that defies explanation.  If you win an Olympic gold medal and are asked how it feels (because you certainly will) and say it feels surreal, is that really what you mean?  It might feel fantastic but does it also feel macabre?  Hardly.

    War is surreal.  This week we've seen the death of Ukrainian children along with the early casualties of Putin"s land grab war.  That approaches surreal.  That has the quality of a heavy weight inhibiting your breathing.  It traps you, won't leave you alone.  It cries out that the world has lost its way. 

    I'm reminded of Kenneth Patchen's novel The Journal of Albion Moonlight.  Often described as a surrealistic novel, it is a powerful anti-war message written during WW II.  It offers no solution and details a group of people traveling across the country in a world gone mad.  Much like today, there are forces that surround us from every angle.  There are the literal explosions and those more figurative but definitely capable of destruction.  Our time out of joint features a rise in crime, gun violence, a pandemic we can't really trust be over, severe inflation, an increasing unhoused population, and the general overall feeling of malaise when it comes to our safety and security.  

I've been reading the Patchen novel for over 50 years now.  A little at a time.  It's a very different experience, believe me.  Its literary merit,  or lack thereof, depending on your taste, is best left for another time.  Suffice it to say, it is eminently quotable.  See my title here.