I remember a brief exchange some years ago between my mother and father that I have never been able to forget. Now, stay with me on this one, dear reader, it’s a doozy.
On a typical gathering of family and friends for dinner one night, an extended family member, Richard, had brought along a friend to partake in the festivities. It was a long, slow night of gluttonous and slothful indulgence, counterbalanced with genteel conversation that lasted many hours. There was ample time for those participating in the guilt-free banquet to become very well acquainted with each other.
Upon the guests’ departure I was sitting in the lounge room with my parents, and witnessed the following conversation:
Dad: “Who was the guy Richard brought along?”
Mum: “That was an old school friend of his. He was very nice, wasn’t he?”
Dad: “He was very effeminate, though”
Mum: “He was deaf! That’s how he talks!”
Dad: “Oh. Really?”
Mum: “What did you think those hearing aids were for?”
Dad: “I thought they were earphones”
Mum: “For what? The cricket scores?”
And, to my dad, this was not an oversight on his behalf but an easy mistake to make. This example of his severely impaired observational skills, once again, proved too irresistible to leave my memory bank. And, dear reader, I’m happy to say that I can now send it out into the ether where maybe somebody just might see the value in his social idiocy.
Merry Christmas
“Larry King”, you ol’ irascible bastard. Sparring with a mime, of all people.
The Bad Plus - Velouria. A lesson in how to seriously build up a song.
Smut is the glue with which a generation holds another hostage
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Tumbling through Tumblr
It’s called Tumblr for a reason. Like Alice tumbling through the Rabbit-hole, so does one experience a tumbling through the Tumblr universe. A hallucinatory, porthole into the desperate and beautiful minds of anonymous friends. I’ve seen the beauty in ugliness and the hideousness of beauty in this universe. It strikes me there is no beginning, middle or end; just an ephemeral stream of consciousness never to be felt again.
And gone are the misgivings of a generation at first perceived to be spoilt and self-indulged but now seemingly content with the content of each other’s ethereal minds. Oh, how we misjudge! It’s contact we all want and it’s contact we deserve. The bedrock of community has not forsaken us, but has been transposed into another form. One that is at once non-judgemental and perspiring with energy.
Kiss me, beautiful for you are not leaving me. You love me unconditionally and no longer desire the gnawing of your limbs to escape me. You will not sway against me. With me, you are here to share everything.
The night rolled along as I sat glued to the sticky, humid air. I was awaiting the daylight. For it had been 12 solid hours I had now spent with my hairy, dysenteric asshole
“
—
Ernest Hemingway
Twitter is about as much a community as the collective noun for unicorns
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Educating Garita Part 2
Poor Chico. He’s wrestling with some thorny issues.
