I am an Imaginarian.
What, pray tell is an Imaginarian? “Imaginarian” is a qualifying designator by which I can describe myself. For example, I am an American by native birth and occasional frustration of the principles and values implied by that term and their observance by some of “My Fellah ‘mericans” as LBJ called us.
I am an Illinoiyan by birthright. I am an Indianan by comfortable and desirable choice of residency. I am a Hoosierian with some degree of pride. And I am a Presbyterian by pension plan.
Was that helpful? Not really? OK, straight up, an Imaginarian is a person who occasionally zones out of the messy reality swirling about him/her/them and with eyes wide shut and brain wide open goes deep inside to play in the land of the Imagination. Normally it is a fun place to reside if only momentarily because there are always other matters to deal with when the eyes are wide open and brain is shifted from neutral to drive.
No matter, re-entry to the Imagination is always readily at hand. Just slip into that cranial darkness, light a match of inquisitiveness and see what else is there in the vault of the Imaginarium. What to feel? What to ponder? What to see of promising and exploratory paths to grope along?
One of the best parts of being an Imaginarian is the fun to be had. No results are expected so no pressure to perfect an outcome of any practical value. Actually, the real world offers enough of those routes to boredom, fatigue and funless results. In the Imaginarium the Imaginarian can fail repeatedly and consider that a success solely for having been imagined.
Want an example of an act of my Inaginarianness? Several come to mind. Which to choose? Ah, yes, the one about world peace. Don’t get your hopes up this Imagining never got much farther than four people in a card game all winning but still not satisfied. It goes like this:
Five cards are dealt to each player.
Player 1: Bids one rock discards 2 cards and draws 2.
Player 2: Puts in two rocks and keeps all five original cards.
Player 3: Ups it a rock and asks for 1 card.
Player 4: Puts in the needed four rocks and takes two new cards.
The second round ends up with 36 rocks in the pot.
They all lay down their cards and here’s what’s on the table.
Player 1: Four Aces and a King; all Hearts.
Player 2: Four Aces and a King; all Clubs.
Player 3: Four Aces and a King; all Spades.
Player 4: Four Aces and a King; all Diamonds.
The result is all players evenly won. But this simple sharing solution is not accepted.
Player 1: Says Hearts are the lifeblood of humanity and therefore wins.
Player 2: Says Clubs represent the power to kill and therefore wins.
Player 3: Claims victory since the Spade is able to bury both the Heart and the Club leaving no trace of its crime of inhumanity.
Player 4: Quietly and with a smug confidence states, “I am wealth. Wealth always wins over sentimentality, isolated force and mass destruction.” The player of Diamonds rakes the stones from the table, adds them to an already bulging bag and strolls away.
I shall try to figure out a better outcome. On to the next Imagining.
This next one may have a chance to cross over the line from Imagination to Reality. Or not. My reading of history tells me we live in a colorful world. Looking out among the trees, grasses and flowers beyond my window I see a beautiful world. Lots of colors, overwhelmingly green of course, but the dominant color appears to live graciously and well among the red to burgundy to yellow to whites of the flowers on the deck. A quiet harmony and all is well in that natural setting.
However, my reality-tinged Imagining also shows that the colors of red and yellow and black and white of us ambulatory creatures do not live in such harmonious ways. If the day lilies can share air and rain with the nudging hostas on their left and the various herbs in the boxes on their right, why cannot the four basic tones of humanity get along as well? Where is the quiet harmony of equality among us bi-peds that is found in those earth-rooted items of nature?
An Imaginarian to the rescue! We have contact lenses that can change the color of our eyes. Everyone can have beautiful brown eyes with just a pop in of a tiny floppy disc. No big deal. The Imaginarian rethinks that and comes up with a contact lens that changes the color of what the eye sees not how the eye is seen. And does this in a very special and selective way. Only the color of humans is changed. Everything else in nature stays its vibrant self.
We humans are now all the very same color to the beholder’s eye. None of us are variations of those four basic tones. We are all now something other than red and yellow and black and white. This Imaginarian has not chosen the final color. I’ll leave that to a federally funded research committee. Meaning it will never be settled. Again, I tried.
Imaginarians around the world are working on this gun violence thing. Some little progress may be happening in our Congress. We’ll see. Meanwhile this Imaginarian offers an option.
The Second Amendment is interpreted by many to mean everyone has the right to keep and bear arms. The bit about a regulated militia is also in there. I’m generally OK with 2A.
So let’s say guns are good. The bigger the gun the gooder the gun.
So let’s say anyone (over 21 and older, I hope) can by a gun, any sized gun.
So let’s say anyone can buy a gun anywhere, Wally World, DQ, Credit Union, churches looking for additional revenue. Go buy your gun. Anywhere. And they are relatively cheap considering.
In my Imaginarian thinking the buying of the gun is a separate activity from buying the ammunition required by any particular gun. You cannot buy the gun and the ammunition at the same place. No, no. Ammunition is available only at the State Ammo Store.
The State Ammo Store (SAS) runs on the same guidelines as the State-run Alcoholic Beverage Control (ABC) stores in North Carolina. Buy all the booze you want, but you can only buy your booze at your local ABC store at the ABC price. Well regulated. Just like a militia.
Now you want to buy some rounds for that AR-15 you just bought at the pharmacy. Here’s what it will cost you. Imagine the State has set a base price for each bullet at $109.73 tax included. To fill up your 15 round mag it will set you back $1,645.95. Want to buy a cheaper round? A box of a hundred .22 shorts is only $8,457. Seems expensive but you get a lot of them.
Why might such a sales system work? It is much said that “Guns don’t kill. Bullets do.” So why not give the bullets their due by valuing them for their potential to do what bullets do.
While we check our bank balance to determine our next bullet buy don’t forget to
Keep the faith. Do the Job. Ask for help.
Bob: By the way, these are my own thoughts and do not necessarily represent 1st Presbyterian Church of Paoli or its members and friends. Some do agree. Sometimes. Sometimes not.