Blessèd Old Christmas, Epiphany, whichever you prefer. Twelve-tide is the last of the Christmas season. I lit the tree and all my Christmas lights tonight, and turned them off for the last time. Tomorrow the prickly drudgery of undecorating awaits.
But I’m in the throes of an epiphany about 2024.
We’re having our first big snowstorm, just got back from a walk in the deep snow. I was thinking of Frost’s poem Fire and Ice:
Some say the world will end in fire
Some say in ice.
From what I’ve tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice
I think I know enough of hate
To say that, for destruction , ice
Is also great
And would suffice.
It looks like the election is gonna be Trump v. Biden.
If Trump wins, the fires of 2020 will be rekindled, like Harris said “they’re not gonna stop and they shouldn’t stop”. I knew an Armenian man who had been in Egypt when Farouk was ousted. He said, “all you need to bring down a government is fire. And anybody can make fire.” WHO could control it, and how? Forget the police, let’s just make sure the firemen aren’t defunded.
If Biden wins, it’ll be ice, both literally and figuratively. He’s cutting off our supply of fossil fuels, the only reliable heat, light and energy source. And maybe the country will see less unrest and rioting, but it will be the cold tranquility of the mortuary, the numbness of paralysis. Somewhere I heard that ‘suicide is painless”….
Which will we be facing at Epiphany 2025?
You know how I’m going to end this, even though I know it’s ludicrous because I’ve never been burned—still:
“I hold with those who favor fire”.