20161120 (isolated)

In a house on a beach where one knows no one else, surrounded by woods and water

I can’t get no connectivity.

When Nat left to return to 

San Francisco he took not 

My heart but his hotspot 

Which allows him to get on

The internet from anywhere

In cellphoneland. This device

(Probably some super-phone)

Connects via cellular channels

Presumably upgraded for data

Since the days of the “Hum, 

Hiss, spit“ connections of early

Telephone-based modems of

Vintage AOL service. However

The magic happened, it is gone

With Nathaniel, and I am in

The woods of Olympia WA

In a house with cable outlets

In every room but the closets

And foyer with no internet 

Service. Cold turkey indeed 

For a man who lives by e-mail,

Blogging, streaming Democracy

Now!, GIFs of kittens on FaceBook,

And YouTube videos of Russian 

Drivers defying the laws of 

Both the road and physics,

This loss of internet is like

Ripping the iPhone from the

Hands of a teen who is then

Unable to cross a street or get

To a library. The previous 

Owners had the cable line

Strung years ago. All I need 

Is for some ISP to give me the

Last nine feet and a modem

And my iMac cord can do 

The rest. Since I’ll be here

Only three months and cable

Companies want a contract

For at least a millenium they 

Will likely refuse to activate

The existing line and charge me

Monthly even though I will have 

To resume at another location until

My son’s manse is completed. Then, 

And only then, will I meet their

Thousand-year criterion for my sole 

Foreseeable relocation will be 

To the grave. Attractive sites 

Abound along the driveway and

I am not averse to the greenest

Of disposals by plunking

My carcass (less its recyclable 

Components) into a nearby 

Classically six-foot deep hole

Which—for a modern backhoe

(Of which one will be needed for 

Construction of the new house) is

Only a moment’s work, with a stone

Reading: “You do not want to dig 

Here.” Presbyterians need no

Body for a funeral service as they

Perform cadaverless memorials.

You’ll see this essay once my

Internet is restored, or if not, 

You’ll read it in my posthumous

Papers. Get them before they rot.

c. J.S.Manista, 2016

20161116 (filial devotion)

"1990: A father chides his son for playing too much 'Tetris.' 2016: A son packs his father's possessions into a truck with nothing left behind on the curb and no room left in the truck for the holy spirit (as they say). So it goes." Nathaniel on Facebook, commentary about helping his dad move cross-country.

     
Were Leif Erikson and his crew

Sick the day before they hazarded

Sailing west beyond "Where 

Dragons be?" Did they all have

“Nervous stomachs”as my mom

So cautiously and so motherly

Euphemised? I had. More I was

Concerned that I might never

Wear pants again lest henceforth

I might not remove them in time. 

Moving day found me with

Worries enough about movement

And exertion as to slow me

Down if not totally disable me.

I’d lost a day of preparation

Which caused even hastier

Packing—the box labeled

“Drills” took on scattered

Office paraphernalia which

Led to an inability to find

Scissors on arrival (all my

Utility blades are still hiding

In sympathy), my travel bag

Contained sufficient briefs 

But only one pair of socks. 

My youngest, Nathaniel, had

Completed a two-and-a-half

Year project at Google and had

The chance to take time off 

For rest and relaxation. Why 

Instead he chose the physical

And mental stress of helping

Me get to Olympia, I’ll never

Know. Perhaps that was the

Otherworldly rationale of 

Having my first two house

Sales fail—to delay my leaving

Until he could aid unencumbered

By responsibilities at work— 

Another one of those clouded

Serendipities that a good

Statistician could whisk away

With a couple formulae and

An appeal to flipping quarters,

Thereby draining the mysterious

From life and leaving us with

No providential overseer to 

Thank other than dumb luck

And a sincere desire to see

Meaning where none may be.

Since I had done nothing 

Special to make my progeny

Paragons of charity, I chalked

Their beneficence up to the 

Guidance of their loving mother, 

Since departed, no longer in the 

Picture to shout, “Great shot, Nat!”

“Good going, Andy,” “Terrific,

Emily!”  I have often told

Others, if you see my kids doing

Something laudable—music, science,

Literature—that’s Jean. But if 

They’re picking their noses or

Their butts and telling the latest 

Dirty jokes, you know the source.

c. J.S.Manista, 2016    

20161109 (farewell to Forest Hill Church, Presbyterian)

Youth Sunday at FHC - forming and empowering the young

I will miss you very much my

Brothers and sisters in Christ.

Thank you on behalf of myself

And my family for the welcoming

And sustaining love you have so 

Many times selflessly extended 

To us in our joy and in our grief.

Since 1977 we together have with

Fervent worship and majestic artistry 

Celebrated and praised our loving

Creator, Who made us in His image

And likeness that we might share

In His life forever, and His Son,

Our Lord Jesus Christ, Who became

One of us and suffered ignominious

Crucifixion and death to sever

The bonds of evil which held us

Captive, and the Holy Spirit Who 

Guides and protects us every 

Moment of our lives. Grateful for 

Courageous and learned ministers 

Who have led us in worship 

And instructed us in sacred study,

We are also blessed with gifted 

Artists and talented singers to

Help us raise our voices in praise.

With Jesus as our guide we are 

Today pulling from our hearts 

The thorns of historical and 

Institutional racism. With Jesus

As our guide we must challenge

The systems which keep the many

Poor and make the few obscenely 

Rich. With Jesus as our guide we

Strive against the fear and hatred

That preclude our hospitality to 

Strangers. With Jesus as our guide

We must struggle to save all 

Nature from ruin out of greed.

But above all I must alert you

To the peril of placing our

Trust in violence, weapons, 

And war instead of in God Who 

Alone is our defender from

Those insane with power who 

Can unleash the stockpile of hell,

Putting an end to all of God’s good 

Creation on this earth forever.

Fearful and ungrounded we have

Sickly lusted for dominion

Among the nations which is

God’s alone. It is the root of 

Our genocide, slavery, racism,

Inequity, and imperialism. 

God commands us not to kill, 

Yet much of our national wealth

Depends on the manufacture, use,

And sale of deathworks to other

Nations. We could instead lead

Those others out of the shadows

Of death and destruction, whom 

We now prefer to subjugate by

Ultimate terror, by an example

Of forsaking war, disarming,

Alone if necessary, and 

Trusting in God, our Maker,

Our Savior, and our Protector.

“Blessed are the peacemakers, 

For they will be called 

Children of God.” Matthew 5: 9

c. J.S.Manista, 2016