Pretense

September 1, 2026 — Pat Bertram

It’s funny to think how often I’ve done this: sitting at my computer, staring at a blank “page,” trying to think of something to write about.

Nowadays, the problem isn’t so much what to write, but whether or not I want to write what’s in my mind, but still, whatever the reason, I am sitting here as I have so often over the nineteen years since I started this blog, just . . . staring.

You’d think this would be my prompt to forget about trying to blog every day, but then, what would I do with all the time I would have spent staring at the blank page? I’m already spending less time playing the hidden object game that once fascinated me and spending even less time reading news commentary articles, which leaves me with a lot of free time already. Giving up blogging would add even more free time to the free time I already don’t know what to do with.

Oddly, the days still pass quickly, perhaps because the early mornings are spent outside working on the yard, which takes at least a couple of hours. And then, of course, I need to get cleaned up and cooled down, and that adds to the gardening time or subtracts from the free time or whatever the math might be.

Periodically, I toy with the idea of not paying attention at all to the larger world (that is, the world larger than my own enclosed space) because really, it gains me nothing other than a deep-seated sadness at what I fear could be coming. (The fear isn’t irrational since the globalists and the sell-out politicians have been pushing us in a collective direction for more than a hundred years, but still, what good does it do me to give it mental space?) On the other hand, if I could forget about the outside world, I’d miss out on learning such things as “sciolistic.” What a lovely word! It was used by a cabinet member and refers to people who pretend to knowledge they don’t have, and that does describe too many of the folks in Congress. They seem to have perfected “pretense.” Not just the pretense of knowing what they don’t know, but also the pretense of working for the citizens they were elected to serve. (Too often the citizens they are serving are themselves.)

Of course, who am I to denigrate anyone for pretense, since here I sit, staring at the blank page (well, it’s not so blank right now, come to think of it), pretending for all the world I have something to say.

I suppose I should give myself credit for at least trying to say something, no matter how inane, but all that the effort really says is, “Look at me!”

And maybe that is good enough. Since I spend so much time alone, there’s no one to see me. Well, except for me, of course, and I’m not sure that counts as being seen. It also assumes that being seen is important. Perhaps it is. Though, of course, it could just be more pretense.