Fighting the Universal Spider Too

I slip back into the anonyminity of the night where Zimbabwe is just teeth. Africa is the night – the cattle and the sheep are safe behind their walls of thorn and the women are busy with their chores. Why is the night so full of the unreason? Why does the night have so many sounds? I wander out into this darkness – howling, moaning and chirping, adding to the noises, becoming just another warning. My lighter does not work and matches do not last for long. I encounter a set of twins, well not exactly twins as they had never met before this night but they were sharing a birthday cupcake. One of them, Marsha offered me a candle from her cake to light my way – “here do you need this” she asked? “I do! Now I’m doing OK,” I replied. Two women were doing a slow grind in front of the jukebox… “its too late to live…as the politicians do”… bang, bang, bang. “There is no time” - moan, moan, moan - bang, bang – “for creation” … A woman’s voice wails in the dark  A guitar picks up her goans - thuda, thuda, thuda. There is a crescendo of lush sound – they are violins perhaps – then there is a twang, twang – plunk, and finally a long slow fade into silence. The lights go out.  The night is very quiet. Pause. Someone has put another quarter in and then Singapore Johnny began to lilt - I keep my eyes wide open all the time… because you’re mine, I walk the line…because your mine I walk the line. There is just enough light for me to just make out a quy tonguing someone. Both of them are dressed in black t-shirts and blue jeans. I keep my eyes open all the time…

Guitars are wailing - wah, wah, wah …bang, bang…. “The bigger the place the bigger to go”…Chorus - solo - chorus… Repeat…,”The bigger the place the bigger to go” - bang, bang, wahhh, oooh, screech, oooh! Why is it that I never have anything significant to say? And when I do it is only after the fact. The appropriate time is long gone. I wake up in the middle of the night with the perfect rejoiner.

Sense perceptions are sense deceptions – Descarates

The ubiquitousness of tunes, bright lights and garish colors is a modern phenomena – we have never before as a life form been so oblivious to our environment. This exquisite sensory system of ours no longer alerts us of dangers – it is overloaded – there will be dire consequences – a brainworm is a synthetic parasite. The neon lights flash and all the birds have gone insane.

Emerald peeks polish heaven. I wander, / sweeping clouds away / forgetting years – Li Po – The Selected Poems, 1996 p109

34% of the couples in the UK break up by sending their partner an e-mail, 13% change their status on Facebook without telling and 2% do it by texting. 38% still break up face-to-face and 8% do it my telephone.

A guest rides up along the golden grain, / He kisses Grandmother’s hand in the drawing room / And my lips on the curving staircases – Anna Akhmatova – The Complete Poems, 1992 p251

When you abort the first born of anything nature takes its vengeance on the subsequent children – Bob Marshall (Republican delegate in Virginia). I guess if creation science is science then so is this – just make it up –oh what the heck (a euphemism for hell), it’s God’s punishment for being naughty..

The progression of an economy such as America’s from agriculture to manufacturing to services is a natural change – Ronald Reagan

Inverted totalitarianism differs from classical forms of totalitarianism, which revolves around a demagogue or charismatic leader, and finds its expression in the anonymity of the corporate state. This is also called Corporatism and rule by Expertise. I call it a katistocracy

When asking ourselves whether we support a proposal or initiative, we have not asked, is it good or bad? Instead we inquire: Is it efficient? Is it productive? Will it contribute to growth? This propensity to avoid moral consideration… is not an instinctive human condition. It is an acquired taste – Tony Judt – New York Review of Books (12/17/09) p86

Where did the day go
What happened to my life
      God, I don’t want to die yet
Those who are alive really live

You were promised to me neither by life nor by God, / Not even by my secret premonition. / Why then do you linger at night in the doorway / As if in the lanugos of happiness? // I won’t come out, I won’t cry, “Oh, be mine alone! Be with me until the hour of death!” / I only speak with the voice of the swan / To the inconstant moon – Anna Akhmatova – The Complete Poems, 1992 p282

I want to assume this responsibility
     For your fate knowingly
You shall learn to hate me
     For demanding this
Is this love that I proclaim
     Or just a momentary desire

The moon stalled behind the lake / And looked like the open window / Of a hushed, brilliantly illuminated house, / Where something awful had taken place – Anna Akhmatova – The Complete Poems, 1992 p271

Is it just in my head that my heart is aching
This bloodletting is appalling
      But it does not deter me
I am feeling the marrow melting
      In my very bones
As I took her at her word
      Melodies had no utility
I didn’t take it too badly
       I tried not to cry
So long as the notes that
       She was singing were not too high
I had not yet realized that all the words I was hearing
       Were monosyllabic
       Later I kept quiet about this
I do not want to be misunderstood
But it was unavoidable

Out beyond this jar of wine, it’s all // longing, longing – no head of mine – Li Po – The Selected Poems, 1996 p118