The new-made Master Mason has gone through a figurative death and come out of it resurrected as a new being, “the perfected Initiate has mastered his lower nature and has become the Perfect Man.” He is no longer ruled by materialistic views or wants but now focuses on the more spiritual plain.

Knowing as I do the deeply embedded apocryphal history of Free Masonry I am guessing that as far back as the Egyptian Pharaohs silver (the “soul“) expresses the earthly visceral elements of humanity; and that gold (the “spirit“) captures the ethereal elevation. I am quite in agreement concerning the superiority of gold though I hasten to affirm that I like both. Indeed both metals are historically highly esteemed.  The only oddities for me are platinum and white gold because the first is unusual and generally misunderstood, while the other is in my opinion contrary to the redeeming buttery yellow of gold. Platinum is a silvery-white metal interestingly deriving its name from an alteration of “platina” itself a diminutive of “plata” for silver.

The white silver metal known as platinum is the heaviest of the precious metals, weighing almost twice as much as karat gold. It is dense, ductile and impervious to corrosion. It is the least reactive metal and it has a very high melting point.

But I can tell you from my experience in this sometimes arcane sphere of silver and gold that the two are seldom entwined either by preference or otherwise. They each have a singular allure for a separate and distinct audience. I have for example only ever heard people willingly alter their preference for gold to platinum for purposes of strict structural integrity or conscious deceit (namely, to camouflage ornamentation as less expensive silver).

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I have long championed Almonte the ideal rural Ontario small town.  It borders the picturesque Mississippi River and has everything one requires; viz.,  hospital (and another nearby), dentists, chiropractors, banks, churches (though no synagogue as yet), walking/bike/ATVs trail, alameda, grocery stores, pharmacies, golf clubs, residential choices, fair ground, beach, bakeries, ice cream shops, coffee houses, funeral home, burial grounds, monumental masons, contractors, restaurants, food wagons, butchers, hair and nails salons, service clubs, Masonic Lodge (whose members adorn their white lambskin aprons with gold braid signifying one of the oldest Lodges in Canada), retail shops (including lately a cannabis outlet), Farmer’s Market, library, parks, art galleries, lawyers, accountants, estate agents, corporate headquarters, hydro-electric plant, arena, acoustically refined auditorium in the Old Town Hall (complete with a Steinway concert grand piano), retirement residence, museums, local electronic newspaper, car washes, auto mechanics and collision repair, nursing home, lawn bowling green and massage therapists. My experience today with the latter was through Warren Vibert-Adams who is coincidentally an Almonte native.  He echoes the thoughtfulness, dedication and expertise of his many similarly esteemed colleagues of various arts, trades and professions in the Town of Mississippi Mills of which Almonte is a part along with the surrounding Townships of Ramsay and Pakenham.

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Chris Rock said it best when speaking about the wackos in society, “What ever happened to crazy!”  Sometimes there’s just no other explanation. Trump and many of his Republican lickspittles – starting with Mike Pence and descending precipitously to Ted Cruz, Josh Hawley, Jim Jordon, Matt Gaetz, Marjorie Taylor Greene and finally former senate majority leader and self-interested lout Mitch McConnell – seem to me to fit well into that generalized category of sadly deranged people.  While Trump may be a circus ringleader he’s not up to the standards of intelligence and logic expected in public office. As digestible and entertaining as he may be Trump is not the calibre of leadership required.  And just because there are millions who are labelled by the pundits as Trump supporters, I am convinced the persuasion is the same that attracts people to daytime television – which frankly I consider utterly void of penetration yet it is regrettably fodder to a near majority. In the binary political system of the United States of America this evident conflict between minority and majority is to be expected – there’s literally no other way to vote, just one or the other.  But unlike horseshoes and grenades, close doesn’t count!

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Quelle journée admirable ! J’ai passé toute la matinée étendu sur l’herbe, devant ma maison, sous l’énorme platane qui la couvre, l’abrite et l’ombrage tout entière. J’aime ce pays, et j’aime y vivre parce que j’y ai mes racines, ces profondes et délicates racines, qui attachent un homme à la terre où sont nés et morts ses aïeux, qui l’attachent à ce qu’on pense et à ce qu’on mange, aux usages comme aux nourritures, aux locutions locales, aux intonations des paysans, aux odeurs du sol, des villages et de l’air lui-même.

Guy de Maupassant, “Le Horla.”

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“The sure punishment which waits on habitual perfidy had at length overtaken the King. It was to no purpose that he now pawned his royal word, and invoked heaven to witness the sincerity of his professions. The distrust with which his adversaries regarded him was not to be removed by oaths or treaties. They were convinced that they could be safe only when he was utterly helpless. Their demand, therefore, was, that he should surrender, not only those prerogatives which he had usurped in violation of ancient laws and of his own recent promises, but also other prerogatives which the English Kings had always possessed, and continue to possess at the present day. No minister must be appointed, no peer created, without the consent of the Houses. Above all, the sovereign must resign that supreme military authority which, from time beyond all memory, had appertained to the regal office.”

Excerpt From: Thomas Babington Macaulay Macaulay. “The History of England, from the Accession of James II — Volume 1.”

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Though I got out of bed this morning much later than I would have preferred, my sleep had been uncommonly restful.  The soothing suspension of consciousness energized my new day purpose.  Immediately I showered and shaved then dressed for bicycling. When I got onto my bike and set off I initially thought I had over-dressed with a hoodie on but that concern proved unfounded. It was a fresh day by summer standards, a dry uplifting north wind, blue sky, fluffy white clouds and yellow sunshine beaming everywhere.

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Watching television these days one cannot avoid the provocation that everyone has suddenly become multi-racial or multi-something. The trend is clearly to diversity. Almost to a fault. What more politic manner to address that awakening and sometimes indiscriminate variety than by characterising it as eclectic.

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When I got back to the apartment after visiting with John Hawley Kerry on his front doorstep for an hour late this afternoon, Denis gingerly asked, “So how was he?” to which I unhesitatingly replied, “Good.  In fact, terrific!” Indeed I reported the same intelligence to His Lordship when he, his daughter Lisa and I foregathered. By way of qualification I mentioned only that John appears to have lost some weight.  He confessed by his own account he eats like a bird; and, for the moment we agreed that without an appetite, even a premiere meal is missing a requisite sauce. Otherwise John maintains a sylphlike figure and is as always well turned out. His affection for proper attire is I know a fidelity of deep and everlasting history.

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I can’t say that I’ve discredited myself or others for liking and displaying stuff, whether it’s cranberry stemware or nose rings. My reservation about stuff derives from another source. I shall forever recall with a degree of trepidation my late father’s cautionary quip that, “You can’t have money and things!” The deeper but unexpressed notion that pervaded was that, “If you’ve got it, you don’t talk about it!”  The one is purely economic; the other is practically a religion. Either way they aren’t what I’d call a green light to flightiness.

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How often it has been said that money and power are chronic bedfellows. It is equally well asserted that those primary social ingredients and politicians are exponentially lascivious. Politicians control the government; and in some instances politicians (acting vicariously for their animators) attempt an autocratic control of that government. The ambition is not guaranteed to be selfless.

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