The Demise of Democracy.
Dissent is an intrinsic right and moral obligation, whether we do so during the national anthem or the long interim in anticipation of the descent of real democracy.
Browsing Tag:
Joel Bryant
The Toxic Pretension of Existential Politics.
Without sacrifice, politics remains superficial and misleading. A progressive democracy encourages honesty, needs it to survive, and employs it to surmount enemies both within and without.
To Pass the Test of Time.
How can we use time rightly while pursuing paths that impoverish? Who but us can replenish the earth and furnish time with tasks that ensure our survival?
The Call to Greatness.
Few people, however, truly fail if they truly answered the call to greatness. Neither are they as unfortunate as their circumstances suggest.
Age Can Neither Be Controlled nor Caged.
Blessed is the age that opens its ways to their service and scrutiny. More blessed are they therein who understand the sage’s duty.
Practicing Pathological Politics.
Rightly regarded, his behavior betrays democracy. Even so, President Trump is unrepentant in practicing pathological politics.
Reinvent Yourself and Live Beyond Tragedy.
A sense of dignity is essential to a sense of destiny. Without this support, fear of tragedy extorts us daily, often unconsciously. Then we take caution (and precaution) beyond rational bounds and common sense. Hence the birth of superstition.
The Silent Auction: How Freely Do We Speak Our Heart?
How heartily do others inspire our hope despite the port that compels, especially when these contradict where they sail? How much in their presence do we embrace ourselves? How much of ourselves do we surrender amid bids and barter? Do bids breed resilience or resignation instead? Do we discern ...
Beyond Courage (and Crests).
Without risks, we rewind the past and repeat the present while being absent to ourselves, our greatness at least. If we were present to this, we would seize courage and assault crests until we exceeded our best.
Tents and Pretense: Being Mutually Malicious in Our Omissions.
How much of our regard hides contempt for their radius because of their recrudescence? How often do we seek surrogates to support our need to connect with something more humane? How ably do artists embrace this task, however restricted their role?