Wednesday, May 27, 2015
Come face me across the poker table.
Oh, I can be so confident here. I have placed my bets with no tell and no tremor in my hand. I assert the power of prophecy. I adjudicate the justice of the world. I call myself the greatest writer on the Internet. I am so sure I am have the winning hand.
But the engine that drives confidence is doubt. And doubt as an engine will break down when it is not exposed to light and air. It will tear through its concealments seeking oxygen.
So it has been for me this week.
Everywhere I turn I wonder "What if I am not so right? What if my hand is a lost one?"
What if my visions are a lie?
What if I am not a prophet of god?
What if God really is great, and he has a brilliant secret plan up his sleeve?
What if it's the children's fault?
What if libraries are terrible and books are all stupid?
What if Republicans aren't fictitious, and what if power and money are indications of just rewards?
What if Christian Ronaldo is a better, humbler soccer player than Lionel Messi, and the Internet is uncorrupted and beautiful, and the eternal Tao really isn't knowable, and all is for the best in the best of all possible worlds?
What if Thomas Kincaid is a better painter than Caravaggio, Ursula K. LeGuin is terribly overrated, and I am really not funny?
Nothing is related. The good guys win every war. Rivers and creeks don't have anything to say. Authority is just. Some things are not alive. There is no beauty in the world. You have come to the wrong place. Love dies.
And so it is said and it is over.
I stand by my truth. Now I push everything I own to the center of the table. I go all in. I may be bluffing, but you will have to call to find out.