I always carry a camera these days, hoping to capture something worth sharing. Whether I’ve succeeded will be for you to judge. Here’s the best I could come up with over the past few weeks. These photos really don’t have anything to do with each other other than that I thought that each of these images were worth noticing. That’s not going to stop me from trying to spin them into a coherent story. Actually, this faux series of segues reminds me of a saying regarding graduate students (not that I’m really a graduate student): “You know you are a graduate student when everything is relevant to everything else.”

This first photo is a collection of heads. This is noteworthy because I think I know where these heads came from.

Here’s another sort of collection. Grandfather clocks. This shop is in Belleville, Illinois. Some of the clocks cost thousands of dollars. I asked the store clerk whether these big expensive clocks were mostly purchased by institutions. She said no. Most of them are bought by people who put them in their homes.  I didn’t buy one, since I’m happy with my $20 digital watch.

Here’s yet another collection. If this is your car, let me know and I’ll give you full credit.

Speaking of vehicles, I wouldn’t recommend parking next to a sign that says “free stuff.”

And what do you put into cars? Gasoline. Have you noticed all of the greenwashing of gasoline these days? The gas pumps are often painted the color green, as well. And why not make the cigarettes look healthy too, decorating them in forest green and ocean blue?

Cigarettes? That reminds me of death, of course. And that reminds me of my recent trip to a huge Catholic cemetery . I hadn’t before visited the graves of my grandparents. They are all in Calvary Cemetery in St. Louis. It was a moving experience for me, even though I don’t believe in life after death. But many people do believe in ghostly beings, of course. And there are many statues to celebrate the purported life after death. The pair of statues below reminded me of just how often earthly religions depend on social hierarchies.  Lots and lots of people bowing to each other and groveling before each other [Yes, and the word “groveling” reminds me of Monte Python’s movie “The Holy Grail,”–you know the scene I’m referring to]. Now what would religion be without all the groveling?  Of course, these earthly social pecking orders are imitations of the supposedly heavenly pecking orders, with God the infallible at the top of the heap, giving the orders. For me, these parallel pecking orders constitute proof that “God” is truly made in man’s image and likeness.

Which leads me to think of what life on earth really is about. For those of us who are afflicted with existentialitis, it is about learning the truth, above all (in the long run, of course, when we’re not busy eating or sleeping). Why? For “Strength?”  This quote can be interpreted several ways, one of which makes truth seem so utterly un-holy, so much the tool of a self-centered manipulative person.  I prefer to interpret the quote as a reminder that hard-fought truth (contrasted to dogma) is the tonic that can turn bickering individuals into a highly functioning community.  Truth makes for strong and healthy communities.

Here is a plaque displayed at Washington University in St. Louis, located about six miles from my house. I’ve had the opportunity to audit dozens of credit hours of courses at Wash U, and I have grown so found of the school, its impressive teachers and students that I now consider it to be “my” school, even though my degrees are from other schools. You see, the deep value in a school is really really really not about getting a degree. I believe that unflinchingly. Nor is a school the only place to get an education. Nor should education stop after one finishes getting degrees.

To bring this series of images to an end, for now, what is the purpose of all of this education and thinking? Why do some of us engage in all of the hard work that it takes to hone our understanding of anything worthwhile? Honest people know that we don’t really know, and the most honest people are the most humble. Sometimes, I think that the moon passes overhead to remind us that we are physically small and that there is much that we don’t know (yes, I know that this sounds like a non-sequitur). The photo below is the moon passing over my front yard tonight (or is it more accurate to say that this is me spinning under the moon tonight?). With this last meandering thought brought to its knees by a clear photo of an awe-inspiring object a quarter of a million miles away, that’s where this word salad is going to end, for now.