Aggravation (143) Anxiety (93) April Fool (1) Bitchiness (65) Bobby (84) BP (7) Burning in Hell (36) Bush (66) Calme au Blanc (13) Catholic Church (33) Charlotte Cushman (11) Cobalt Blue (26) Confusion (11) Crime (22) Daily Life (144) Dangling Conversations (41) Deep Thoughts (45) Depravity (29) Depression (43) Divertissement (13) Embarrassing Moments (16) Family (44) Friends (110) Frozen (15) Fun (60) Gay (67) Gertrude Stein and a Companion (19) Glass Menagerie (34) Good Things (72) Government (58) Gustav (16) Hate (20) Holidays (36) Hope (37) Hugging the Shoulder (6) Humid City (9) Humor (155) Hurricanes (3) Internets (8) Jesus (5) Justice (6) Katrina (119) Latrine (15) Life in the Quarter (353) Louisiana (12) Mardi Gras (85) Mark Rylance (1) Movie Stars (35) Music (22) Nagin (20) New Orleans (126) News (28) Nighthawks (29) NOLA Partee (1) Obits (12) Our-Leaders-in-Their-Wisdom (111) Outlaw City (126) Personal (404) Photography (532) Pity Post (11) Politics (79) R I P (12) Religion (20) Retirement (11) Righteous Shit (24) Sadness (37) Saints (19) Search-Engine Crap (20) Sex (34) Sick Humor (60) Silly Stuff (150) Southern Decadence (22) Striking Words (23) Stupid Shit (217) Take Me Out (41) Tattoos (18) Tennessee Williams (64) The End (1) The Human Comedy (15) Theatre (508) Thinking Blogger Award (1) Thrill Me (37) Treme (7) Valhalla (42) War (28) Weekly Photo Challenge (41) Weird Shit (9)
Friday, January 20, 2012
Takin' a Stand
The world is too much with me, and it's not a pretty world.
Ed What's-his-name, that old snake-oil conjurer who came down here after Hurricane Katrina and czared it over the recovery, has written a memoir to commemorate his contributions to the city's rebirth. It turns out to be fiction. No one in the local media, all of whom are pointing out the book's shortcomings, has ever even mentioned the name of the book. I looked it up. It's called My Storm. Not your storm, not ours, his. Now, just cause I told you the title doesn't mean I think you ought to go out and by the book. Don't. Hold onto your money—or spend it on food. Something important. Don't invest in somebody's lies.
And hey, what about those crazy Republicans, huh? They are presenting us with a glorious, greasy smorgasbord of all the available deadly sins—and then some. Liars, hypocrites, bigots, and devoutly Catholic whore-mongers ... Makes you proud to be an American!
I turn back closer to home and try to reach for a firm, steady hand, and what do I encounter but the occasional blogger who sees himself as Messiah to the young? He elaborates that, if you are indeed, young and pretty and willing to follow his lessons as to how to live your life and craft your works, he will lead you to the promised land. He doesn't say just where that promised land is, but what messiah ever did?
I want to scream!
But what's the point? Everybody is just following a dream, doing what they can to make their lives a little tolerable in this vale of tears even if it means destroying the souls of everybody else. The Big I is the ultimate reality. If what I see is with my own two eyes, if what I do is with my own two hands, if where I go is with my own two feet, the world is mine as I perceive it. And is there any other?
The archetypes have risen to the surface of our consciousness and run rampant 'cross the land.
Why fight it?
Mr Natural. Henceforth, the world will be as I decide it to be.
You don't like it?
Snap! You've been evaporated.
You wish to question my dictates?
Snap! You've been evaporated.
You have a differing opinion?
Snap! Snap! Snap!
From now on, the grass is greener on my side of the fence, not yours.
It will only rain when the plants need watering or the car needs a wash.
The sun will shine until it gets in my eyes, then it will shade itself from me till I am ready to resume my tanning.
People will let me pass on the sidewalks, and drivers will brake when I start to cross the street.
Street musicians will only play show tunes from now on and graciously decline my offers of tips.
I am the Sage, the Magus, the Holder of All Knowledge. I am the Wizard and the Seer.
And, yes, I take big steps, so you'd better catch me while you can.