And what was it that we were meeting here to talk about.
Remember my scheme to use the talents of the Little People. I was going to
figure out a way to employ their ability to read minds and overhear
conversations. I was looking for some way to employ them to solve mysteries.
This concern with terrorist (the War on Terrorism as President Bush labeled it
and to which Congress gave its rubber stamp). That seemed like a good place to
employ the Little People, not that Homeland Security was clamoring for their
assistance. Homeland Security seemed to be quiet happy preventing imaginary
plots (or fomenting plots that they could the thwart). They were kept busy
imagining things that didn’t happen and quite happy putting into effect
policies that nothing imaginary might be imagined and if it were imagined that
it stay imaginary. And since when did the police tolerate outside interference.
No I needed first to work out our tactics. Then we would look out for some
opportunity to use them. Something that didn’t involve public authorities (or
the Internet or the telephone for that matter). First we would try a simple
case of tailing someone. Say someone here in this bar. “Got any idea boys? Are
you picking up on any evil or crazy thoughts in here? Is there someone who
could lead us on a merry chase?” Maybe later we try a case of what is called a
‘domestic situation’ – the bread and butter of the private detective.
A sane man who by pretending to be a lunatic, has done as he
pleased and escaped punishment, he had a joke – if you wanted to call it that –
on the world. But if he was a lunatic, who ignorant of his craziness, thought
he was pretending to be a lunatic, then the joke – if you wanted to call it
that – was on him – Dashiell Hammett – The Dain Curse
Am I crazy or what
But everything makes sense
When your crazy
Nothing
makes any sense
And this all makes sense
Or at least
I think it makes sense
And when you are really crazy
You thing
it all makes sense
And I think this makes sense
But I’m not
really sure
Uncertainty is a sign of sanity
Are you
sure that you not sure?
Does it make any sense
Any sense
at all
This is
noting
And nothing makes
It nonsense
And there is no sense
In nonsense
“What do you think
Does this make any sense?”
“Me? I’m not so sure
That’s why
I’m asking
You”. And you say, “I’m sure
That your
crazy”:
“Crazy for you”, I tell her.
“That would defiantly make
Your
crazy,” she replied
Preventable yes, most things (those that are anthropocentric
at least) are preventable, if acted upon before their onset. After it has
happened nothing can be done except for some type of mitigation. What is the
chance that it will happen – a million to one. What is the chance that it did
happen – One hundred percent. It did happen and there is no denying that. Odds
are only applicable before an event. The event itself resets the odds. The
event is a threshold. What is the chance of an intelligent lifeform springing
up spontaneously – we don’t know. What are the odds of an intelligent lifeform
– 100% (we are witnesses to it – assuming of course that humans are
intelligent, and that is not a given). What are the chances of an asteroid
hitting the earth – a million to one. What are the chances of an asteroid
having hit the earth - 100%.
Today, it is those most sheltered from actual state violence
– from day-to-day reality of police brutality – who also feel most threatened
by the state, most free to threaten violence against hypothetical violations,
and most entitled to opt out of civil discourse… Our racist double standards
for who can safely gesture at political violence are enormous – Patrick
Blanchfiled – The New York Times
While there is zero tolerance for petty thieves there is
infinite tolerance for the crimes of bankers
Plip plop the rain begins. I had been expecting it since
early morning. Everybody was taking of the coming rain. I asked the ranger what
kind of storm was expected. Is it supposed to be bad? We had been talking of
trees and they were cutting several down. Just don’t park under one with a lot
of dead branches. No, just a gentle rain, he said. I had heard that green wood
was more dangerous that dead wood. When they are leafed out they can be, he
said. They were only beginning to leaf at this time. There is no danger now.
I’ve seen a lot of green ones go down. There is really no place safe to be. In
the summer everything is green. In the winter everything looks dead. If you’re
going to be out here you’ll have to take your chances. There is no safe house
in the woods.
I against my brother / I and my
brother against our cousin / I, my brother and our cousin against the neighbor
/ All of us against the foreigner – Bedouin proverb
A goose flapped its way into the fork of a dead tree about
thirty feet above the ground. I had never seen a goose sitting in a tree. There
are a lot of woodpeckers about but not much of a chance catching them napping
out on the lake. The mate of the first goose (the one sitting in the tree)
makes an effort to join it on it’s perch. It’s a small notch. The notch is not
big enough for two big birds. They would first have had to construct an edifice
of sticks like a stork. That would have worked. But they do not construct
nests, maybe in the reeds but not in trees. The second one knocked the first
one out as it landed on the perch. There is a lot of flapping and honking but
only the second one now sits in the notch of the dead tree. Tammy and John walk
over to my campsite. They are having a fish fry tonight. Some guest will be
coming over. They invite me to join them. I offer to help but Tammy says that
John is the chef. I offer to clean up. No, they say just come over and eat. I
will, I promise them. I’d seen him using a Dutch oven earlier. Yeah, we both
like campfire cooking. Thanks, I said. We’ll call you when its ready, John said. The first goose is now trying to join
its mate up in the notch of the dead tree. Flap, flap flap – honk, honk – it
circles around again and lands. It tries once more and fails. They both fly off
and land on the lake.
Distance invokes many ghosts. Loneliness does too. And
ignorance even more – Javier Marias – Fever and Spear,
2007 p384