Wednesday, November 28, 2012

No Borders, Color Outside The Lines

Funny, it's all coming back to me. Was I bopped on the noggin? Yeah, by Father Time, that old goat. There are no boundaries. Quote me. In the words of my beautiful friend, Rebekah, "I'm a geographer and shit."

All these concepts and rules, made up by folks with their own shortcomings, their own agendas. Does it sound like I'm preaching anarchy here? I'm not. I'm aware that Grover Norquist would come to my house and steal my wallet if he didn't have to face the law. Bad guys are just bad guys. Most bad folks figure out at an early age to seek power. That way you get to impose your own rules, your own boundaries. God is on our side. The meek shall not inherit the earth. That's a rumor that Grover and Ralph Reed and Jack Abramoff cooked up when they roomed together in college.

Aunt Wilma had me color Hopalong's kerchief a bright chartreuse. She didn't scold me for coloring outside the lines, either. That was the best that I could do.

There are no borders. There are no lines. I don't begin where you end, we exist together.

Love. There's a concept that's real. I can get behind that one. Peace? That's the natural state of things. Take off your clothes and put 'em in the corner. Welcome to the Garden of Eden.

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