There was yellow weed on the line but the old man knew that only made an added drag and he was pleased. It was the yellow Gulf weed that had made so much phosphorescence in the night.
"Fish," he said, "I love you and respect you very much. But I will kill you dead before this day ends."
Let us hope so, he thought.
A little phosphorescence in the night, a little hope in the morning for Santiago. Life is like that. Even in the darkest of times, there's always little light and hope to hang onto.
Tonight, I hosted a library presentation by a sociologist from the local university. The program was part of the Women in Science monthly series. The presenter is unique for a person from a STEM discipline. She writes about the marriage of science and poetry, and she has published a collection of poems herself. Basically, the thrust of her talk was that science allows humankind to gather facts and analyze data. Poetry allows us to understand the deeper, more significant human side of this data.
There is a divide between science and the humanities, especially in higher education. The whole push away from Liberal Arts to Gen Ed curricula at the university level is a symptom of that divide. It's a privileging of science over art, like one is more important than the other.
Here is the truth of this matter: we really need both science and art in order to survive as a species on this broken world. Some people in the sciences, like the presenter tonight, get it. However, most people in the STEM disciplines do not.
I even feel this divide in my job at the library. I've been told that I need to schedule more "practical" programs--how to prepare taxes, tech help, and things like that. While these types of skills and subjects are important, I find it difficult to get excited about them. Perhaps I have my own bias, privileging poetry and music and art over how to file a 1040 EZ form.
The world is a little too practical, I think. It's mostly run by people who are more worried about pushing their own political agendas than helping their fellow human beings. That's where practicality has gotten us. In the United States, we have a broken healthcare system. Leaders who describe violent insurrections as political debate. Billionaires who pay less in taxes than I do.
So why do I have to be practical? I want to be extravagantly impractical. Stay up all night writing poetry. Climb a mountain in the middle of the night to stare at a comet. Hunt for Bigfoot in the forest. Dance and sing at midnight in the middle of the street.
And I will still pay my taxes and vote in elections. I am fully vaccinated and boosted against COVID. Wear a mask when I am out in public.
I do all these things because I care about my fellow travelers on this little blue rock orbiting the Sun. Embrace the idea that it's just as important to know the elements of the periodic table as it is to read Hamlet. The universe isn't just made up of carbon and helium and oxygen. It's made of thinking, breathing, feeling humanity, too.
And knowing that others share in this belief gives Sant Marty a little light and hope tonight.
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