"Mine" somehow seems wrong, though. The social fabric is not mine or yours, not when properly displayed and shared. When it's folded up and tucked into a drawer, it's only a piece of fabric, a piece of fabric that's about as social as the Mad Honeymooner in Marriage, who lives under the falls, "a scourge of bigamy, a saint of divorce." But when that fabric unfurls before the public eye, a beautiful curio for the weather to have its way with, then that fabric becomes something for men and women to reflect upon, to invest with ideas and meanings. It's like a national flag that represents no nation but the nation of community. There is no president standing behind it, thumping on a huge pork-barreled bill. On the contrary: when I set this social fabric out in the garden this morning, its first respondent was not even human!
Show me the congress that represents this grasshopper. Show me the congress that represents the racoons who forage around the skirt of a land-fill. Show me the congress that represents the fish who swim in the rivers that receive the run-off from the massive, chemical-input heavy farms where mountains of inedible corn are grown to be turned into the million-and-one unhealthy foods that dominate our supermarkets. RANT OVER. To refresh your memory, here's the social fabric that I wrote about on October 20th. Cheers. Peace. Etc.