It’s here. After all the books and movies, after the private prognostications and punditry, it’s finally here. I suppose it really arrived in 2003. That’s the last time I remember the culture offering something fresh and lively, something that was in conversation – rather than in cynical cahoots – with whatever malevolent power turned into… this.
I got two mosquito bites at the rock climbing gym yesterday. I thought about Coral Cliffs’ proximity to Miami’s twin Ground Zeros. I thought of the multitudes of people who will get mosquito bites this weekend and every weekend after this. I thought about globalism and racism. I thought about the politics of holding public money hostage thereby holding whole populations of people hostage. I thought about waiting.
The last time I ran on the beach, it was perfect. I was fast. The sand was just packed enough, just loose enough. The wind was very light. I started at dawn and finished a half hour after sunrise. The sky was clear. The last time I swam at the beach, it was perfect. I’d just finished running. The water was dark and cool and clear. The sky was blue with silvery white clouds floating by.
This is how it is; a horror show of hubris punctuated by moments of perfect peace. It could be the other way around, you know.