On his way to the Theatre of Pompey (where he would be assassinated), Caesar saw a seer who had foretold that harm would come to him not later than the Ides of March. Caesar joked, “Well, the Ides of March have come”, to which the seer replied “Ay, they have come, but they are not gone.”
Well, we know how that turned out …
(And if somehow you don’t, read some history, or some Shakespeare and get with the program.)
Caesar:
Who is it in the press that calls on me?
I hear a tongue shriller than all the music
Cry “Caesar!” Speak, Caesar is turn’d to hear.Soothsayer:
Beware the ides of March.Caesar:
What man is that?Brutus:
A soothsayer bids you beware the ides of March.
Yes, today is the Ides of March … the 15th … and given all going on, a bit of bewaring sounds like a plan.
Between recent revelations on personal betrayals and news updates from the wider world, I’m reeling, and suggesting those with an option to spend a day under the covers with a diverting novel should bloody well do exactly that.
While there, some counting of blessings might happen, too, since if you have covers to hide under you’re better off than thousands of others today. Sometimes it is all about perspective.
Anyone whose Ides do NOT include impending assassination, mass destruction, incoming artillery, hourly earthquakes and a forced hunt for food, water, shelter and loved ones should actually be feeling pretty fucking lucky about now.
Of course, that’s no need to push it. What happens next is anybody’s guess, and assuming you’re cool because you don’t happen to be in Japan or Libya or Ivory Coast or Bahrain … pick a mess, any mess … could be an assumption based on quicksand.
It is crystal clear today that we could all easily be within hours of anything from getting hit by a bus to a nuclear event with global consequences, and as depressing as that though may be, it should also set the wake-up call bell ringing.
What we have is what we have, and when we have it is now. If it sucks, we deal with it it. If it’s great, we damned well should appreciate and enjoy.
Spending the little time we have on the Woulda, Shoulda, Coulda cha-cha-cha of the past while hoping for the Tomorrow Tango to start very possibly could be last thing we do.
Yes, the Ides of March have come, and those of us still standing can and should take comfort, but as the seer said, “Ay, they have come, but they are not gone.”
It ain’t over ’til it’s over.
A collection of my short stories:
I'm in this one, too ...
And I'm in here, as well ...
Paradise Preoccupied 