Reading (Into) the News

So if Dubai reneges on a $60B debt will the recovering N American markets go to crap again? Perhaps they should have thought twice before building an indoor downhill ski slope in the middle of a fracking desert? The very fact that such affluence appears to breed a contempt for common sense and human decency serves to scramble my temporal lobe. Carleton University is spewing sewage into the Rideau River because of a number of aged/cracked pipes that haven’t all been accounted for. New buildings are being erected but the bare bones nuts and bolts maintenance is being accomplished with gaffe tape and concrete bandages. If the foundation is not strong, when problems arise (inevitable that they will; naïve to believe otherwise), the structure will implode upon itself into nothing. This appears to apply not only to physical structures but to economic, ideological, emotional and spiritual erections as well. After the shit hits the proverbial fan and the knee jerk recriminations, name callings, selfish cries and quixotic head banging’s pass, it is the foundation, or lack thereof, that will remain. Foundation or not, (re)growth is possible. It’s just that with a solid foundation the growth may occur just that little bit faster and be, perhaps, just that little bit stronger because at least there is an actual point of departure and reference.

There I Was, Tied Between Two Coconut Trees

A variation on Snoopy's 'It was a dark and stormy night.' A friend introduced me to this phrase in a letter he once wrote me and we have used it since as an opening conversation ice breaker. Better than 'hello' it pretty summed up how we were feeling--trapped. Yes, we happened to be trapped in paradise but we were trapped all the same. Perhaps I read too much into things (no perhaps about it really as I know that I do read too much into pretty much everything. I am a victim of a liberal arts education after all) but the idea of feeling pinned down and trapped while in paradise is appealing. The inherent contradiction and instability that is evoked by this image calms and soothes my soul. The recognition of the need to break free from convention, however seemingly peaceful/wonderful, is something to be embraced.

I tend to not trust when all is well and going smoothly. That and I get bored. Although I have been called self-destructive (among other things) this is a bit unfair. I require a certain amount of chaos in my life.

A couple years ago I went to a Cuban spa with my mother. The first couple of days were unique and strangely surreal enough to keep me occupied. As time passed, however, a sense of complacency came over me. I relaxed into the routine of daily cardio, 'treatments' and such. The days went like this:

Wake up and dress for breakfast.
Eat breakfast in dining room and order eggs (that's all they had).
Go back to room and change into bathing suit.
Go to 'doctor' for blood pressure check.
Go to 'gym' for cardio
Go outside and stand while someone took a paintbrush and slopped mud taken from the back field all over your body.
Stand in sun til mud dried.
Stand in cold outdoor shower to remove mud.
Jump in very hot salt water pool for 15 minutes or so.
Go to 'rest room' and lie down on a wooden slab and be served tea.
Go to water treatment room. Water treatment consisted of lying in a hot bathtub of water and having a high pressure hose jet water over your body. After the hose one is to stay in tub for 20 minutes.
Go back to rest room
Have massage. I did this only once. Carlo's hands wandered a bit too much :P No quiero.
Go to sauna.
Go back to room and have lunch consisting of chicken and rice or rice and black beans--Moors and Christians.
Afternoon = rest/quiet/relax time.
Dinner.
Bed.

Alright. After one week of this I went to the 'doctor' and was told that I could not participate that day in any spa treatments. My blood pressure was at an all time high. Go figure. With that much mind numbing relaxation I was ready to do harm. I was, in effect, tied between two coconut trees.

I convinced my mom to walk with me to the next village -- 17 km away. We hitchhiked on the back of a truck carrying workers, had a beer in the village and walked back. When we finally got back I jumped straight into the pool. The next day my blood pressure was normal.

Do your worst to me. Just don't bore me. That just might be my end.

Singing REM and I Feel Fine

I talked to my mom on the phone the other day. Always an interesting experience. She will usually tell me about how busy she has been, what her dogs *kids* have been up to and how although so and so or such and such has somehow let her down she has managed to prevail. We all have our coping mechanisms.

This particular conversation led in a different direction. She had been watching a television show on Nostradamus and Edgar Cayce which delved into the upcoming 'end of the world as we know it' posited by the Mayans. Well there is a movie about it. It must be true.

Seems that Cayce would put himself into a hypnotic state and once there would begin to speak. Speak the truth. At first folk would take advantage of him as they asked for lotto numbers and winning horses. Self gain. Cayce didn't like that and so had his wife be the only one to ask the questions. The questions had to be the greater good. Apparently, heads of state and other such important world folk were given the opportunity to ask him questions. His answers were always true. Hmmmm. This process would take a lot out of him but he continued to put himself in this trance up to 7 times per day. Later he died of a stroke but not before relating that the Mayan calendar was right.

The world will shift on its access in 2012 and life as we know it will end. Japan will be gone. The East Coast of Canada will disappear. Rome will fall. Again. My mother continued and mentioned something about Atlantis and a new continent etc. etc. Then she told me that she was sorry if she had worried me. I told her that I wasn't worried. She then went on to say that she was working on a plan to get the whole family together at that time because when the chaos finally erupted she wanted us all to be together because it would be difficult to have contact otherwise. Hmmmm. She was also trying to figure out a way to get my brothers away from the East coast. It was beginning to sound more like she was planning a grand family reunion then preparing for the end of the world. I guess it's difficult to actually plan for the end though eh? Gotta make sure there's enough milk for the coffee.

Ok. 2012 is coming. I agree. Time passes. Seconds. Minutes. Hours. Months. Years. Neatly divided. 2012 is over two years away and already the hysteria is beginning. I fear that it will be a very long couple of years as varying camps discuss the end and how to prevent it and/or survive it. I wonder how long it will take before the canned goods are stripped from the shelves, folk start building survival shelters and basic trades classes get overbooked in local colleges.

I also wonder at people's seeming hyped up joyous? elation at the thought of mass destruction. Or even over 'little' destructions. Joyous is the wrong word but there's a feeling of nervous excitement in the air. I've felt it during this current H1N1 pandemic. People are dying. People are getting sick. Yet there is a perverse almost celebratory energy as folk are talking about it, coughing into their elbows and washing their already washed hands. I don't believe that folk are happy that others are suffering but something is odd. Similar to the feeling I had as a child when watching the parade of people who would follow fire trucks and then gathered and tut tutted as walls burned down and bodies were carried away I also wonder if this same feeling could explain the mentality of people who would gather around the gallows in order to witness executions.

I wonder how this whole 2012 thing will pan out. I feel that the lead up will be far more interesting then the 'event' itself.

Punishment

It really isn't a punishment. It is not a punishment to have my kids returned early. It is not a punishment to make them dinner. They ask me if they can have a Sunday dinner with you. It's ok with me if you do this but it is not a punishment to have them help me throw together a dinner that we will all take into the living room and have a special Sunday evening watching some bizarre cartoon creatures prance across a screen as we giggle together. It is not a punishment to have more time with them. It is not a punishment to look through their bags when they get home and discover homework incomplete. We spend extra time going through the science questions. I'm learning things too. Tonight we planted some trees. It is not a punishment to be a part of and help with their education. It is not a punishment to pack their lunches. It is not a punishment to do their laundry. It is not a punishment to run their baths. It is not a punishment to stay home with them when they are sick. It is not a punishment to have more time with them. It is not a punishment to have them with me for all but one weekend per month. They ask me why they can't see you more. They wonder why they can't spend more time with you. They answer themselves saying they know that you are very busy. Your job takes up a lot of your time. They are making themselves understand.

Well. At least, I'm not the one being punished.