Nomenclature -OR- One For My Baby and One More For The Road

"Up against the barrier of a common language"- Dylan Thomas

It struck me this morning while listening to a self-avowed Christian spokesman, who, for the sake of accuracy, would more aptly be described as a Levitican. Obvious from his preach was his infatuation with and reliance upon O.T. principles. Further, the un-christianness of his positions seemed to be of little to no concern for his purposes. He was doing God's work, in Jesus' name. Given. His interviewers made no effort to push back against his spewage. His new gospel was infallible.

Then again, as I've evolved and detached from dependency on present usage, there's a gaping hole in writing and conversation. Just my bad luck? I hardly stood idly by as our language was hostilely taken over. Like the gajillion other usurpations to which I objected, for which I found no mass protest, losing privilege went with the territory.

If the stakes were lower, or my position more advantageous, I might assume a posture of indifference or mild bemusement. My options, it seems, had been reduced to acceptance or rejection.

I am NOT Don Quixote. I'm just an old hippie, clinging to my non-evangelical, marginalized, seemingly singular perspective. Waiting. I still feel as though I am where I am supposed to be. Waiting. I feel no compulsion to run over there, simply to come back to where I already was. An expatriate exile in my own homeland.

Waiting.