Janus Carnival Reprise

 

                                                     Janus, 

                                                    An original acrylics painting,on stretched canvas 

                                                    36" X 24" , unframed

                                                                          ( click on image to enlarge )

          Janus was the Roman god of two faces.  He had the ability to see into the 

future as well as the ability to look back into the past.  He was also the god of new 

beginnings, and he is the god for whom the first month of our calendar is named.

       Exactly three years ago, in January of 2021, I posted this painting of a carnival

attendee, fully costumed as Janus.  That was a month when the human carnival was

never more clearly on view for all to see, even for those who still refused to see the 

truth and act responsibly.  The covid  pandemic was in the process of killing millions

of people, and yet so many thoughtless dolts were partying on, endangering the lives of

of others besides themselves.  And then, on January the sixth, Donald Trump attempted

to overthrow the democratic government of the United States, by having his organized

militias attack the capitol building, injuring and killing it's defenders, in an attempt to

remove or kill the vice president and stop the electoral process, so that he could 

retain power.  

     How have we changed, in the three years since I last talked about Janus?  

Unfortunately,  the human carnival continues unabated, as so many of us remain blind 

to the future and unwilling to admit the mistakes of our past.  Donald Trump is still 

front and center in the news headlines.  He holds fascist political rallies, where he 

spouts quotations from Adolf Hitler, while at the same time he is attending his many 

trials for his criminal actions, trials he still continues to lose.  He compares his trials to 

the sufferings of Christ, as if he is being punished for the crimes of other people, 

and as if he is fighting for the right of his followers to be as blindly indoctrinated as 

they want to be. 

     Who are all of these MAGA idiots who have destroyed the Republican Party

and replaced it with the Trump Party?  They are an odd coalition of right-wing

extremists.   A major portion of them are the Evangelical Christians, who want to

turn our democracy into a theocracy, where they can take away our freedom of 

choice in every aspect of our daily lives, from what we are allowed to see and read

to what control we have over our own bodies and relationships.  They are willing to 

blindly overlook Trump's criminal and immoral behavior, and give him their support, 

because he packed the Supreme Court with religious conservatives who overturned 

women's rights to determine their own futures.  

     The other major portion of the MAGA tribe, consists of all of those who hate 

or fear everyone who they see as somehow too different from themselves to be

 worthy of the full rights of citizenship in this country.  These Trump fans are the 

racists, the xenophobes, the homophobes, and every other kind of phobic based 

personalities, who take comfort in Trump's promise that, with him, they will be 

able to take control, and somehow eliminate all of these wrong "others", 

who they see as the root of our national problems.

     Oddly enough, in one of Trump's recent, fascist speeches, somewhere 

between his favorite Hitler quotes, he attempted to reference some very

famous quotations, about remembering history, in order to avoid repeating it, 

but he mangled the words, of course.  He had three choices:  Edmund Burke 

said "Those who don't know history are doomed to repeat it." ; George 

Santayana said "Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to 

repeat it." ; and Winston Churchill said "Those who fail to learn from history 

are doomed to repeat it."  Although Trump didn't get the words out correctly, 

hearing them spoken by him might have had caused a more thoughtful audience 

to consider what a disaster Trump has been for the nation, and what a continuing 

disaster he would be if he should regain a position of power.  But Trump's 

followers do not have have the wise vision of a Janus.

      And so, the carnival continues.

                                                                     Eugene P. McNerney

 

 

 

The Bitter Landscapes

                      

     This week's guest artist is Old Man Winter.  His work is dominated by the cooler

colors of the palette, and he relies heavily on white, which he often applies with broad,

heavy brushstrokes.   Sometimes the surprise exhibitions of his impressive talents can

be a bit too much to take in, all at once.   His landscapes can often be sparkling and

beautiful, but they can also sometimes be stark and unforgiving.

     A couple of mornings ago, I looked out the window to discover a scene which

resembled the winter landscapes from David Lean's well known film of Dr. Zhivago. 

Tons of heavy, wet snow had blanketed our area during the night.  My front hedge

was nearly flattened, the evergreens were mounds of white, and the birch tree was 

pulled down nearly to the ground, by the weight of the snow.  I am still in the process

of digging out.

     I was fortunate that I did not lose power; many others were not so lucky.  The

utility linemen are still working to restore power and heat to the thousands of homes

which were trapped in the icy cold.  Fortunately for those families, the linemen 

seem to have been making good progress, because in the coming days ahead,

the daytime time temperatures here, will be in the single digits, and our nights will

drop well below zero.

     All of this is a reminder of the many thousands of people who are trapped in

the grip of Old Man Winter, without any relief in sight.  Vladimir Putin continues

to pound the civilians of Ukraine mercilessly, with hundreds of missiles and drones,

killing people and destroying their homes,  as he uses winter as an aid, to try 

and bend the Ukrainians to his will.   And at the same time in Gaza, the innocent

thousands of Palestinians, who are paying the price for the crimes of others, are

huddled shivering in makeshift shelters and tents, wondering if the next bomb to 

strike will be the one that gets them.

    Somehow, it is difficult to see the beauty in a fresh snowfall, when we know

that the winter is an added torture and painful burden, for so many people who

are less fortunate than ourselves.   The year 2024 is not starting out well.  Let's

hope it ends better than it is starting.

                                                            Eugene P. McNerney

    

New Year Wishes - and - A Christmas Morning Visitor

 

                                                            A Christmas Morning Visitor 

                                                            An original acrylic painting on canvas panel

                                                           9" X 12", unframed

                                                                            ( click on image to enlarge )

     For at least another week or more, people are going to continue to wish each other a

happy new year.  This annual ritual is intended to say that we have put all of the problems 

of the old year behind us, and that the year ahead will be a better one for all of us.  But

of course, when we exchange these greetings, we are deliberately pretending to have a 

temporary ignorance of all the ongoing disasters and tragedies which we see in the news 

everyday.  We know that a change in the calendar does nothing to change world events. 

     Wars and death go on without letup. Global warming increases, while we continue to 

cut down our rain forests and burn our fossil fuels.  Countless numbers of species have

gone extinct, and our own survival is still in question.  So what is it that makes us all so

willing to participate in this yearly charade of global harmony, and wish each other another

happy new year?  

     Maybe the answer is simply the word hope.  There is a line from a poem by Alexander

Pope, which says "Hope springs eternal in the human breast." Hope is the only thing we 

have left to cling to, when everything else is gone.  There is a poem by Emily Dickinson 

which carries that message.  I will print it here.

                    Hope is the thing with feathers

                    That perches in the soul,

                    And sings the tune without the words,

                    And never stops at all.

 

                    And sweetest in the gale is heard;

                    And sore must be the storm 

                    That could abash the little bird 

                    That kept so many warm.

                     I've heard it in the chillest land, 

                     And on the strangest sea;

                     Yet never in extremity,

                     It asked a crumb of me.

     Others convey the same message in simpler terms.  In the Rogers and

Hammerstein musical, South Pacific, nurse Nellie sings that she is stuck 

like a dope, with a thing called hope, and she can't get it out of her heart. 

     I tend to become very discouraged about the state of the world today,

but I too have to be optimistic, because without hope there is nothing left 

for us.  So let me offer my heartfelt hopes that all who read this, will have

a healthy and rewarding new year ahead.

                                             Eugene P. McNerney 

P.S.    When you have the winter blues, chickadees and other song birds, 

visiting a bird-feeder outside your breakfast room window, on cold, 

snowy mornings, can be a real day-brightener.  Chickadees are such 

spirited little, aerial acrobats, that they spread good cheer.  

      A bird-feeder stocked with sunflower seeds, can be a good

inexpensive anti-depressant.  That is a prescription I can recommend.

    

                   

Devine Justification For Mass Murder - and - The Battle Of Jericho

                                          The Battle Of Jericho

                                         Illustration by Julius Schnoor von Carolsfeld ( 1794 to 1872 )

                                   

      The death tolls continue to rise.  Day after day, year after year, century after century,

as far back as the beginnings of recorded history, people have been marching across 

borders and slaughtering their neighbors.  The motivations for these bloody invasions is 

most often greed for the neighbor's lands, wealth, and natural resources, often 

accelerated by a desire for revenge for past incursions.  But the excuses they give for 

killing innocent civilians is most often that their supreme deity has told them that these

executions are justifiable, or that this God even ordered them to commit the slaughter.   

     When Vladimir Putin decided to invade Ukraine, in a bloody assault, intending to 

absorb that nation into his own, he made sure that the head of the Russian Orthodox 

Church would speak out in approval of the invasion.  Such complicit approval from the 

supposed, high representative of God on earth, is somehow intended to quell any 

anxieties, which the faithful followers of the flock may feel about the killings of so many 

thousands of their neighbors. Whatever moral authority the head of the church may 

have had before his agreement with Putin, he tossed it all out of the window, but in 

exchange for his cooperation, he gets to retain his power over the ignorant masses 

of the faithful believers.

     The story is always the same. The aggressive political leaders acquire the support of 

the religious leaders, to help justify their bloody assaults.  Religion is always the key to

help justify all manner of death and destruction.  

      Now that we have the new horrors of the slaughters in Israel and Palestine, I am 

reminded of the biblical story of the battle Jericho.  That is the tale of how the God 

of the Israelites gave them the land of another tribe of people, who happened to have a 

different god, and were not particularly interested in moving.  As the story goes, Joshua,

the leader of the Israelites, needed the power of God, to help him destroy the great,

walled city called Jericho.  So he and the religious faithful, marched around the city walls

for seven days, blowing horns, after-which, God knocked down the walls for them.  

That is when the story becomes more telling about religion.  Joshua killed every man,

woman and child in the city, along with all of their livestock, because his God told him 

to do it!

     The story of Jericho is pure fiction, added to the Old Testament by a later writer,

as propaganda to enhance the omnipotent, powerful image of God.  Archeologists

have proven that no city of that kind ever existed in that area.  The Old Testament

is a collection of historical fiction, written and collected by tribal leaders, intended 

to hold the tribe together, and to find some kind of explanation of how we came to

be here, because they did not have the knowledge of science.  The trouble comes

now, in the twenty first century, when so many, stupid people insist that every word

of the "Holy Book" is absolute fact, written by the hand of an invisible, supreme

being.  The only holey books are the kind which are infested with bookworms.  

The books which proclaim themselves to be the Holy word of some-kind of 

supreme being are wishful fantasies..  

     Still, the festering religious divisions in society, continue to create the limited 

viewpoints of the people who insist that they have the one true religion, and all 

other religions are false, which continues to tare at the hope of any lasting peace 

for this weary planet. The wars and the deaths and  bloodshed will go on forever, 

unless we change.

     There is one religious rule which several religions have in similar forms, often 

called The Golden Rule.  Simply stated, it says "Do unto others as you would have

 them do unto you".  If everyone on earth practiced that rule, this world would be 

a wonderful place to live. 

                                                                  Eugene P. McNerney

 

 

 

 

 

         

     

        

Sunday In The Park ( without George )

 

     One of Stephen Sondheim's best known musicals is called Sunday In The Park 

With George.  It is a fictionalized version of the pointillist artist Georges Seurat, as

he draws inspiration for his work, during visits to the public parks of Paris.  I have 

lived beside a park for over sixty years, and that close access to views of the 

changing seasons, has undoubtedly been an inspiration in my own work.

     This past Sunday, I was finally able to spend a short time in the park, after being 

confined to a sickbed for most of the month.  During my confinement I had not witnessed 

the daily, gradual changes in the foliage, from the fading greens to the more brilliant 

tones of Autumn.  I saw with surprise, that many of the maples had already hit the peak 

of color, and had already begun to set their leaves adrift on the winds.

    I did not risk a health setback by walking the full length of the park on Sunday, but I 

did take a few photos of the section closest to me.  I have reached an age at which it 

becomes a question,  as to how many more of these Autumn changes I am likely to 

witness.  We all need to ask ourselves whether that last fading leaf, drifting away on the 

wind, may be the last we see.  Perhaps then we will plan our lives more wisely.

     I will post a few of my Sunday photos here.  Perhaps there is another artist out there 

who will find a bit of inspiration in them, maybe even one by the name of George.

                                                                          Eugene P. McNerney

Freedom Of Speech - and - The Raven Is Lost In The Woods

   

                                                             The Raven Is Lost In The Woods

                                                              An original acrylic painting on primed panel

                                                              8" X 10",  unframed

                                                                      ( Click on image to enlarge.)

     This little painting is one from a series of book paintings I did a few years ago.  I'm not

sure whether or not I considered it finished at that time.  It has a more somber tone than 

some of the other works in the series, but perhaps that is appropriate.  It does seem to fit 

in well with the coming season of ghosts and goblins.  I recall that, around this time of 

year, Mr. Poe was fond of giving readings of his famous, eerie poem, as an entertainment 

for guests. 

      There is no particular reason why this book of poems should become lost in a gloomy,

dark woods, just as there is no reason for any books to become lost, but they do.  Things

do get lost.  But the real problem comes when books are deliberately taken away from us, 

by ignorant, small-minded politicians, who believe they have the right to take away our 

freedom of speech, and the freedom to read what other people want to tell us.

     I noticed this week, that the last week of September is designated as Banned Book 

Week.  I don't know how many people may have seen that reminder, and found 

themselves some good, banned books to read, but I hope there were many who did so.  

It seems to me that it is always the semi-illiterate folks among us, who inevitably try to 

censor what we are reading, as soon as they gain the political power to do it.  They don't 

actually read the books they take away from us.  If they did read the valuable information 

they try to destroy, they might actually learn something.  They are simply determined to 

prevent anyone from reading about people whose lives are too uncomfortably, different 

from their own lifestyles and beliefs.   They are unable to overcome their prejudices and 

fears, of anyone who they see as somehow unworthy of full participation in society, with 

the full freedoms of self determination, whether because of their race, country of origin, 

religion, sexual orientation, or a variety of other differences, which  they deem as 

somehow not fully acceptable.  

     These stupid autocrats gain their positions of power because the voters who put

them in office. are just as illiterate and prejudiced as they are, if not more so.  But 

the day may come when those voters  finally realize that if you take away the rights

of a few of us, you take away the rights of all of us.  When they feel the pain of lost,

personal freedoms themselves, they may well say, like Mr. Poe's raven, "Nevermore!"

                                                             Eugene P. McNerney

                       

The Enduring Ignorance - and - Horatio's New Role

 

     "Call me Hakoris!" 

     Those were the spoken words which interrupted my troubled thoughts this morning.

That short sentence was reminiscent of the first line of Herman Melville's novel Moby Dick.

But when I looked to see who had arrived, I saw that the speaker was not attired for 

whaling.  My little friend, thespian and sometime model, Horatio H. Hamster Esq., had 

popped in for a visit, and his costume was more appropriate for an ancient Egyptian 

palace, than it was for a vessel like the Pequod.   His opening line had eliminated any 

question of what the middle "H" in his name stood for, during this visit.

     I greeted him warmly and thanked him for stopping by for a little chat.  It is always 

good to hear the latest, inside news about the events and troubles, here in our little 

animal kingdom.  He seemed a bit depressed, despite his royal finery, so, as I began 

a quick sketch of him, I asked how things were going for him and his friends.

     He answered that he was sorry to have to say that his theater company at the troubled

Quadruped Playhouse, was even more sharply divided than ever.  Although a majority 

of the company had voted to expel Donald J. Skunk from membership, because of his 

unrelenting stench, he still has a minority of supporters who want the company to have 

a second vote on his membership.  The skunk's friends are still the same cast of 

characters, including Lindsey Groundhog, Ted Coyote, Kevin McWeasel and that 

whole family of nearly deaf and blind foxes.  And adding to this turmoil in the company 

is the skunk's cousin, Ron deCivet Cat, who would like those supporters of the skunk 

to switch their loyalty to him and his particularly unpleasant aroma.  He wants to make

a name for himself by directing a new production of Shakespeare's Antony And 

Cleopatra, staring himself as Antony, and Julia Rabbit as Cleopatra.  He offered 

Horatio the role of Ptolemy X111.

                  "The P in Ptolemy is silent, you know", said Horatio, "and my part in the

            production would be equally silent because Ptolemy The Eighth was already

            dead before the play begins.  When I Ptolled him that, he said that he would

            do a rewrite and put in a different pharaoh.  So I Ptolled him that it was not

            Ptolerable to rewrite Shakespeare, and that adding a different pharaoh was a 

            Pterrible idea, and that it will end up as a Ptrully Ptragic Ptragedy!"

     When I asked Horatio if his words had any effect on the deCivit Cat's plans for the 

play, he said that the rewrite was continuing. evidently with the intention of eliminating

the role of Cleopatra as much as possible, because everyone could see that Julia was

far more talented than Ron, and he just didn't like being out shown on stage.  

     The last information that Horatio had received from the amateur playwright, was 

that Horatio would play a Pharaoh by the name of Hakoris, who also lived well 

before the time of Antony and Cleopatra.  So it seemed that accuracy and logic

were not figuring into the author's version of history.

     But it was beginning to look like the play would never get on stage, because 

Horatio said that a majority of the company was becoming tired of the Civet stench. 

     As I was finishing my sketch, and Horatio was preparing to leave, I asked him

how I should say goodbye to an ancient Ptolemaic Pharaoh.  And he quickly replied,

"Just lay your Ptributes on my Ptomb!"   With that he was gone as silently as he had

arrived.

     After Horatio's departure, my thoughts returned to the nation's troubling current

events.  The notable, current contenders for presidential nominee of the Republican

Party, have just run a dog and pony show through Iowa and Wisconsin, and it was

mostly dogs.  Only one of this group of cowards was willing to say that he would 

not vote for a traitor to our democracy, to become president again.

    What is the reason for this cowardice?  One third or more of the MAGA base

of their party has fully accepted Trump's lies about a stolen election and a politicized

Department of Justice.  They are all wallowing in their deliberate ignorance as 

happily as hogs in a mud-hole.  Any candidate who wants to win the votes of these 

fools knows that he, or she, can not contradict the liar-in-chief.  They value their

own political ambitions more than they value truth and justice.

   And what is the reason for the steady allegiance of the MAGA idiots, to such 

an obvious fraud as Donald Trump?  I can't help but feel that when a man who

holds the office of the President of United States, is constantly displaying his 

hatreds, prejudices, xenophobia, and mistrust of our federal institutions, then his 

openly warped behavior makes it seem somehow more comfortable for people

to show the same warped flaws in their own character. 

     And what about the so-called leading Republican alternative to Trump, Ron 

Desantis?  Like the good little Nazi that he is, he has been busily taking away 

the personal freedoms of the people of Florida: banning books, telling teachers

what they are allowed to teach, telling women that they do not have the right

to determine their own future or the control of their own bodies, and rewriting

history to fit in with his own views.  When he stands up and proclaims that the

Africans who arrived here as slaves were here in some kind trade-school, why 

wasn't he laughed off the stage.  He seems to have forgotten that they were 

not here by choice, and that the so-called trade-school lasted their entire lives.

     If Desantis is the best presidential candidate that the Republican's can 

offer us, then, as my little friend Horatio might say as Ptolemy, ........

 that is a Ptruly Ptragic Ptragedy!

                                                      Eugene P. McNerney