There is only the writing here. What else should there be? My only answer to the questions that plague us, hound us, haunt us, hunt us . . .is the writing, what I write when I write in response from my conscience.
Each of my simple responses . . . my sword and my shield are pen and paper. Is this childish naivety or metaphysical veracity? I leave it to you to chose your answer. Everything is subservient to this idea that the pen is stronger than the sword, the word on the virtual page a shield against hate, a shield against power’s greed and money’s influence, a cache of authority.