There might be forces at play in the world today that are beyond our understanding. And I might be willing to subscribe to a conspiracy theory if I could find one. At the moment I feel like a mammal in the age of dinosaurs, tiny, underfoot, and out of sight. The titans of our age are galloping across the stage, trumpeting like bull elephants, and the only thing I am to them is a number in a data set.

Yesterday, on my blog about Jimmy Carter, I posted a picture of a flag at half staff. The flag in question stands in the National Cemetery at Fredericksburg, Virginia, on Mayres Heights, the hill Confederates defended and Union soldiers attacked. It was one sided. The Union soldiers were climbing uphill over open ground. The Confederates with their cannons were well hidden in a sunken road. It was a slaughter.

It’s a national day of mourning for Jimmy Carter. I remember when he won the presidency in 1977. It was a breath of fresh air after the Nixon years. But it didn’t take long, however, for him to fall foul of the hell-bent-for-leather American psyche. In response to the energy crisis he lowered the speed limit on US highways to 55 and he suggested we wear sweaters rather than turn up the heat. His biggest crime, however, was failing to bomb Iran back to the stone age when they took our hostages.

On my recent trip to Virginia I visited the Civil War battlefield at Fredericksburg. It was the sight of another of those Union defeats attributed to poor union generalship and a failure to move in a timely manner. I’d read all about the battle, now was my chance to walk the ground. It was moving, and it's still hard to comprehend how they did it, how they faced the roaring guns and the bloody screams of fallen comrades to try and fight their way to the top of Maryes Heights against an entrenched foe.

I’ve been amazed at the response to the Bob Dylan biopic. Glad, actually, but I’m not sure if I want to see it, having lived it, if only at a distance. I sort of like all those characters keeping their place in my own movie, the one swimming around in my head, the movie in which they shaped my taste in music and my taste for life. Plus, I never much cared to know who was dating whom or how Dylan’s contemporaries felt about him. It was just gossip.

I like public transportation. I’m staying in Virginia just outside DC. Anywhere I want to go in the town, there’s a metro line that will get me there.I like the convenience, the commonality, the collegiality of it.

I got my book yesterday. Six Impossible Things. It’s less than 100 pages but I think it’s going to open up the world of quantum mechanics for me, or at least give me something to think about that’s bigger than myself.

We got a semi-big rain last night. By my gauge, it was nearly half an inch. My new roof appears to work as do the new gutters which now shed water at all four corners of the house.

As a democracy, we don’t seem to care. Voter participation has hovered between 50 and 60% in presidential elections over the last 120 years. The last time it hit 70% was in 1900.

A fair number of my friends are Republicans. And we have talked politics on and off over the years. We have discussed various issues and compared candidates. I know how some of them feel about their current candidate and I am unaware how others feel.

To me, this election is about my vision of America. Kind, considerate, gentle, caring.

Ah, the mysteries of life. I listen to the speeches of the current Republican nominee for president, and I hear nothing but vile words filled with contempt and hate. Yet, a neighbor down the street or a friend across the state hears the same speech and it’s the nectar of the gods.

In my view across the great political divide, I see signs for the other side all around the area where I live. They’ve grown exponentially with the election, but election season or not the current Republican candidates name is always there along with flags with his name on them.

I don’t know why I care about immigrants, illegal or otherwise.

My back’s feeling better these days, but my soul’s still a little sore. It feels as though some people want this election to be about God because there’s a lot of bible thumping going on.

I’m at a loss to understand how I’m someone’s enemy because I’m a liberal. I support civil rights. I want gay men and women to be able to live their lives, be married, and be happy. I want women to have the right to choose their medical care.

Last week the Los Angeles Times and the Washington Post refused to endorse a candidate from either party because the editorial boards wanted to endorse the candidate of the Democrats and the tech billionaire owners said, no.

I’ve always wondered when I read the saying, Make America Great Again. When was again? What time period, what point in our history was the zenith to which we should return or bring back?

They say it never pays to stand up, because most people would prefer you sit down and shut up. And the Japanese have a saying that the nail that sticks out gets hammered down, because they really like conformity.

I voted yesterday. Then I spent most of the day in a funk.