2016 Intimations of Death

In April, Margarita got so angry when I didn't see her in New Haven that she told her boy that I had died. And so that was the end for my Indian summer with her.

During these years, I was also frustrated with my work. My priority was CPNN, but despite repeated revisions and consistent work, it failed to advance. My trilogy of books went un-noticed by the world. Finally, I gave up trying to get in reviewed in the so-called "peace journals"
Then in June, at mile 3 of the Branford road race, my knee crashed and I couldn't even walk (the photo at the left was taken at mile 1). My running buddy, Larry Inge, was with me and he drove me home. For the first few months I treated it like tendonitis, but it didn't heal and finally in August I went to see a sports doctor in Paris who told me that I probably had osteoarthritis and might never run again, at least not without special orthotic shoes. I felt like I had died. Finally, I got an MRI and found it was less serious, a torn meniscus. After surgery in September I even ran the Christopher Martin race in December. Slower than usual, but still faster than anyone else my age.
But running along below the surface was a slow death of the various peace initiatives that had peaked in the year 2000 and have been running down ever since.
There is less and less response to CPNN, although I continue to send out an average of one article per day on CPNN, including the French and Spanish versions, and to send out the bulletin to a mailing list of 3,000 and the blog to 300. Only one reporter remains (Janet Hudgins) and the many I had trained have disappeared. Those who had contributed to discussions (Tony Dominski and Helen Raisz) died during the past year, and now there are almost no discussion contributions. Kiki continues to translate into French and Marcos into Spanish, but otherwise I am left alone.
There has not been much progress in cities for peace, although I have continued to work with the New Haven City Peace Commission and try to launch international city initiatives. A year after proposing a project with Mayor for a shadow security council, he has still not followed up on his verbal agreement to work together. I tried to no avail to work with others, such as Ben Cramer in Paris. Helena Lourenco came to visit from the city peace commission in Santos, and symbolically, only one person showed up (Aaron Goode) for our talk on comparing city peace commissions. On the other hand, she invited me this year (2017) to Santos and Pernambuco to work with city peace commissions there, and she says she will invite me back next year (2018). Also when I was invited this summer to Mexico by Roberto Mercadillo, I met with Prisco who promised to take the proposal of city peace commissions to the annual meeting of Mexican mayors, but he never got back to me.

Year after year, I hope that Mayor and the culture of peace will receive the Nobel Peace Prize. Year after year, I'm disappointed, although the nomination in 2018 was especially gratifying. Until recently, Anwarul Chowdhury continued to claim that he was the one who wrote the 1999 UN resolution on the culture of peace. I complained often to him and others, and eventually he seems to have stopped. It seems he wanted the Nobel Peace Prize for himself and the guru of Soka Gakkai who supports him financially.
In the past I was inspired to write books, poetry, etc. But now there is no more inspiration. I can't even find much inspiration to work on this autobiography. On the other hand, I continue trying to find a publisher for the play Freud's Last Death that I wrote with Kiki's help several years ago, and in addition, I have finally published my first novel, Master of the House which is now for sale by Amazon. A second novel which foreshadows CPNN and other events that would occur later in my life, such as the support for the Seville Statement by scientific organizations, is also now available to read here or for purchase at Amazon. And finally I am publishing the book of page poems.
Symbolically, I went to see Suzy Taraba and Leith Johnson at Wesleyan to put my archives in order, as if I am ready to die. Here is a list of those that have gone to Wesleyan. And, now writing this, I prepare to send my annual message to the Board of Directors of the Culture of Peace Corporation that will inherit my internet and writing productions. Should I say that I am coming to the end?
And even further below the surface is my feeling that it is not just me that is dying, but an entire civilization. Galtung has repeated his prediction that the American empire will crash by the year 2020. And the election of President Trump, along with the rise of fascist electoral candidates in Europe does not help. It feels like we are approaching the crash of 1929 to be followed by fascism almost everywhere.
I foresaw the crash for 2020 in my novella, I have seen the promised land, and so far, everything seems to be going the way I imagined. The one difference is that the threat of fascism seems to be coming before instead of after the economic crash. Perhaps that is good, since it will be more difficult to respond effectively if the economy has completely crashed. Now we can begin to respond. I write about the fightback on CPNN and the blog (sanctuary cities, sanctuary schools, mobilization by youth), but I don't even convince myself that the fightback can be successful.
The financial crisis has already affected Lindsay and me, because the state of Connecticut, facing an enormous deficit, no longer wants to pay for the group homes for the disabled, like that of Georgie. Instead they are selling the disabled (like a slave auction) to private companies. We took part in the meetings of the union to fight this and Lindsay put up $20,000 to a lawyer to fight it. We held off Georgie's privatization until his death in 2018, so at least his last years were good ones, in the hands of professional caregivers in the unionized state homes..

I go often for three months at a time with Kiki in Normandy, with our golden retriever Marcel (he passed away at the old age of 14 in 2018), our black long haired cat, Charlie, a pair of canaries and now three playful goats, the two young castrated males, Marius and Modeste, and the older female Camomille who is now pregnant with twins and living with us because she is bullied by the other goats at Armand's farm. We celebrate the holidays with Armand's parents, Mary France and Sylain, along with their old circle of friends.
I have decided finally to leave the USA for good next year (2019) and get married with Kiki in Normandy, despite the prospect that the Front Nationale may be elected and install fascism in France, and despite the drift of Europe in general towards fascism. After all, the USA already has Trump and his fascist appointees. See page about emigration.
It becomes more and more difficult to be optimistic!
But, as I write this, it occurs to me that I should look back at my life and sum it up. Usually that task is left to a biographer, but perhaps I should give it a try now. It comes at a moment when I am packing up all my papers and books from a lifetime and inviting the archivists from Wesleyan to come and get them for their library archives about my life. It all goes back to the moment that I read about King Solomon in reading the full bible aloud with my mother. My life should concentrate on wisdom rather than fame or riches. Hence, another page: my life of wisdom.