The I Word … April 2nd, 2019

Jonathots Daily Blog

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THE

 

WORD

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The I Word is Ignorance

I am reminded of the passage in “A Christmas Carol,” where the second of the Three Spirits warns Ebenezer Scrooge, when unveiling the two children of humankind beneath his robes.

He says, “Beware them both in all of their degree, but most of all, beware this boy—for on his brow I see that which is written, which is Doom, unless the writing be ceased.”

And the boy’s name was Ignorance.

Ignorance may be one of the few words in the English language which is used both as a taunt of criticism and a badge of pride. It evokes a situation in which we choose to ignore that which is obvious, that which is blessed, that which is praise-worthy and that which is true, in favor of a mythical tale often of our own making.

It is dangerous—especially when flaunted by those who seem to be totally content with their lack of knowledge and education and have begun to wear their misinterpretation as proof of simplicity instead of simply lacking proof.

Ignorance says, “I will ignore any opinion that differs from mine.”

Ignorance also proclaims, “I will call those who disagree with me ignorant.”

And most notorious of all, Ignorance closes out its rampage with, “I will lie to maintain my ignorance.”

It is a word we must cease using, because it has no power as an excuse and becomes a vicious attack when pointing the finger at another, rendering the accuser the villain.

 

The producers of jonathots would humbly request a yearly donation for this inspirational opportunity

 

 

PoHymn: A Rustling in the Stagnant … February 3rd, 2016

 Jonathots Daily Blog

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Servant of All

I saw my Master serving

And I felt quite undeserving

Because I want to rule

Instead of play the fool

I grasp the tarnished crown.

 

For he took the water fine

And changed it into wine

Gave for all to share

To express his heartfelt care

Rejoicing in their pleasure.

 

While offering his words so wise

He touched the blind man’s eyes

Disturbing his time and space

To commune with the human race

I blare my horn in traffic.

 

When arrested in the garden green

At the mercy of the mob obscene

He healed the ear of his accuser

Wounded by a nearby abuser

As I wipe the blood from my sword.

 

Hanging, bleeding, black and blue

Father, forgive them for what they do

Weary and worn in his demise

He welcomed a thief to Paradise

While I abhor inconvenience.

 

For I wait at the table demanding to be served

Impatient as always, often unnerved

While he kneels down to wash my feet

I am embarrassed, seeking a hasty retreat

He smiles and continues his labor.

 

I am not a worthy soul

Less than half of what is whole

But if I can slow down from moving faster

I can become the servant worthy to be master.

The producers of jonathots would humbly request a yearly subscription donation of $10 for this wonderful, inspirational opportunity