What Else Is Morality Doing Now?

Some will have us believe that we are living in interesting times … or troubling times … or add-your-own-anxiety-label times. To me, these are unsettling times.

There is something unsettling about the present moral climate, and it has little to do with any single cause, country, or conflict. It has more to do with how morality itself seems to operate—how it circulates, how it authorizes and sanctions speech, how it decides when outrage is urgent and when silence is acceptable or unacceptable. There is a rush to define, categorize and label us by our choice on the menu of morality.

So, the question I keep returning to is a simple one: what else is morality doing now?

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THE DUMBIFICATION OF MINDS

A Loitering Words Essay

There is rarely a meeting point between my Loitering Words persona and that of my ELT Vista self. The former writes with a chipped tooth, a leather vest, a jester motif, and a sly-eyed grin; the latter wears a blazer, or sometimes a black tie. Nonetheless, in this article— which may end up as a podcast, a rant, a performance, or a plea—I intend to bring both to the table, not to find a middle ground, but to come at you with both barrels blazing.

I write this post fully aware that slowly but surely, attempts will be made to shut me up. It is what always happens whenever someone challenges the gatekeepers’ favorite myth: that censorship is care and confiscation is a form of moral hygiene.

Today’s contention is the recent Australian ban on social media for children under sixteen—you know those post pubescent, randy teens, easy pickings and already labeled a “lost generation” by the vegemighty powers that be. The answer is always to take something away when you cannot control the message. No need for innovation, imagination, or investment. Just take. The political equivalent of grounding a teenager because you do not know what else to do. Take. Take. Take. Offer nothing in return … It’s the same old story.

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The Pumps Don’t Work

Dada Mad Porker

My Fellow Americans,
I’ll begin with the upshot.
Let me make one thing perfectly clear.
At the end of the day,
we are all human, 
and I pray to God that love will find a way.

I spent most of yesterday, July 13th, 2024, working on my next novel and writing a chapter about the history of a possible future civil war in the United States of America, especially it’s effect on Florida. Of course, it is hypothetical and just conjecture. However, like my other writings, it is mostly based on true events. That is the nature of fiction, but also poetic license and freedom of speech. 

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Twas the Night before Apathy

Dada Krampus -Jay L. Schwartz - @jschwartz63
Dada Krampus

‘Twas the yawn before the holiday; you know of which I speak.
Not a punter was shopping, not even a post-Black-Friday peep.
The billboards were bright-shining on the streets below that glared,
In hope that no infrastructure would ever be spared.
The doomsayers were glued to the latest i-dreads,
While visions of paranoia droned in their heads.
And a cat with no whiskers, and I with my crap,
Had just drank our brains out, and man we were zapped!

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A Special Thanksgiving Message!

Dada Halloween - Jay L. Schwartz @jschwartz63

A Special Thanksgiving Message! 🦃

Another holiday season is upon us, bringing us its bounty of reminders of what’s important in life … and what’s not. And so, I would like to take a moment to offer up my less-than-humble thanks from the gutter of life. I am thankful for Donald J. Trump; it’s good to have a recognizable face to go with the definition of sub-human. Of course, his pockets are deep enough to buy my love, if he really, really, wanted to—and I could really, really use the money, right now—since, as Jim Morrison said, “Money beats soul, every time.”

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O Little Central Florida Town Of Bedlam: An interview with myself – Part I

O Little Central Florida Town Of Bedlam

NOTE: The following is a transcript of a self-interview with Jay Leonard Schwartz, author of O Little Central Florida Town Of Bedlam. The interview is taken from a podcast to be released in the near future. The author—that’s me—discusses his new novel and its development.

Jay: Hello and welcome to this podcast that champions independent authors of absurd fiction and non-fiction, as well as works of satire and dark humor. Also discussed are their creative approaches to writing, be they process or product in nature. Today, we have with us writer, musician, filmmaker and self-confessed Dadaist at large, Jay Leonard Schwartz, author of the absurd and social-satire novel, O Little Central Florida Town Of Bedlam. Jay, welcome to the show!

Jay: Thank you, Jay. I appreciate my being here. I’d just like to say that it’s really nice of me to have myself here, today.

Jay: So, Jay, what is this book about?

Jay: That’s a good question, Jay. You know, I always find that it’s much easier for me to write or develop a project, even a novel in this case, than summarize it in fifty words or less. Basically, however, the novel is the absurd saga of a soggy little Florida town in crisis. The town’s inane history is marred by natural disaster, social dysfunction and bureaucratic ineptitude. As a result, the quirky and eccentric locals of this quagmire of civil strife are forced to live with chronic flooding, political apathy, and societal decay—and eventually fight for their very existence when suddenly threatened by a cosmic collision of political corruption, vindictive weather patterns and supernatural forces.

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Social Distancing Elegy

Jay Leonard Schwartz - Bed 2019.jpg

Social Distancing Elegy

Oh, children! Where are you marching off to today?
Oh, children! Where are you stomping off to today?
Are you going down to St. James Infirmary?
– (No, Lord, I’m staying home today.)
Will you go down to Maggie’s Farm?
– (No Ma, I’m staying put today.)

Let me tell you ’bout social editing
in the new math of justifying
the survival of the populist regime.

One soul dying … but it’s only one.
Ten souls dying … but not in my home.
A hundred souls dying …
– (Well, they were already gone.)
A thousand souls dying …
– (Didn’t know ’em. Save the other ones!)
Ten thousand souls dying …
– (Not in my constituency. Come on!)
A hundred thousand souls dying …
– (Gotta keep moving on …)
A million souls dying …
And it goes on and on … Continue reading

You Think You Know (You’re Not Clever)

Dada Virus-70.jpg

You Think You Know (You’re Not Clever)

You think you know – You’re not clever
You think you know – You’re not clever
You think you know – You’re not clever
You think you know – You’re not clever

Sittin’ in the middle of your own paranoia
cause you ain’t got nothin’ to do.
Countin’ all the reasons for the change of the seasons
cause your window’s got a poor point of view.

Test your diagnosis in your clinical neurosis
and hypothesize your self-validity.
Politicize and ostracize the obviously
justified and label it impartiality. Continue reading

My Modicum Of Free Sentiment

“My Modicum Of Free Sentiment”

Where is America, you white devil?
Down in old glory, in a helluva
blinding blitzkrieg of bling.
And you, my flaming sullen Greece,
not so far behind,
with nothing to the table
did you bring?
Ah yes, democracy,
in which all votes go to the usual swine,
and to their constituents
trickle down the usual piss, vinegar and aftershave-cum-wine.

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