I sit at my table with a bowl of just-drenched-in-oat-milk cornflakes and an unpeeled banana in front of me. Since I woke up only a few minutes ago, I'd rather that no one join me at the table. I need time to fully wake and warm to the world. But my quest for solitude begulies me. My Black cousin, the parson Terry Person is here with me. And Tito and Angelique, my Dominican neighbors. Yung, the Chinese owner of the local hardware store is here as well. As well as my parents and eldest brother, Jim, all long departed from this soil. A few old high school mates stop by and one from university. It gets crowded in my kitchen... Then, with a blink and a shrug, they all depart.
It's all part of being Trans-tempo. Time - our ability to occupy multiple points at once, and our impact upon those points for not only ourselves but anyone ever in existence - is fluid. Our bodies are fixed, our spirits are not.
So... Genius, yes. But any noteworthy insight can be bent to evil purposes - as your Carmen so gleefully realizes. Isn't a shame that the pain of a lossed love and a little prejudice can drive one in lonely desperation to subjugate the world?
The only requirement to move from subjugation to redemption is a shift in perspective. To stand over there instead of here. To be Trans-tempo.
You win the comment of the week on Monday morning. "So...Genius yes. But any noteworthy insight can be bent to evil purposes..." There are no good guys. There are no bad guys. There are just hurt people in the year 2046 in the Dining Room driven to destroy the racial boxes, regardless of the means or consequences. I like this story as it causes us to reflect on the mixture of good and evil, pain and transcendence, the incredible ripples of hurt in the human heart. May Nelson help Carmen find balance in the coming years.
I sit at my table with a bowl of just-drenched-in-oat-milk cornflakes and an unpeeled banana in front of me. Since I woke up only a few minutes ago, I'd rather that no one join me at the table. I need time to fully wake and warm to the world. But my quest for solitude begulies me. My Black cousin, the parson Terry Person is here with me. And Tito and Angelique, my Dominican neighbors. Yung, the Chinese owner of the local hardware store is here as well. As well as my parents and eldest brother, Jim, all long departed from this soil. A few old high school mates stop by and one from university. It gets crowded in my kitchen... Then, with a blink and a shrug, they all depart.
It's all part of being Trans-tempo. Time - our ability to occupy multiple points at once, and our impact upon those points for not only ourselves but anyone ever in existence - is fluid. Our bodies are fixed, our spirits are not.
So... Genius, yes. But any noteworthy insight can be bent to evil purposes - as your Carmen so gleefully realizes. Isn't a shame that the pain of a lossed love and a little prejudice can drive one in lonely desperation to subjugate the world?
The only requirement to move from subjugation to redemption is a shift in perspective. To stand over there instead of here. To be Trans-tempo.
You win the comment of the week on Monday morning. "So...Genius yes. But any noteworthy insight can be bent to evil purposes..." There are no good guys. There are no bad guys. There are just hurt people in the year 2046 in the Dining Room driven to destroy the racial boxes, regardless of the means or consequences. I like this story as it causes us to reflect on the mixture of good and evil, pain and transcendence, the incredible ripples of hurt in the human heart. May Nelson help Carmen find balance in the coming years.
"There are no good guys. There are no bad guys. There's just you and me and we just disagree."