Sunday, August 28, 2005

An evening's lapse of reason

[The EZLN and other zapatista translations are all resting comfortably in the Library. Awaiting your pleasure.]

Head and hands have been immersed in Work all day, but, despite the associated guilt [amazing how ethnicity will out - even when not coupled with any actual religious component], I’ve decided to come up for air.

The words in question were universes away from the rhetorical shock and awe [though I wanted to say sturm und drang] of late. Although located in the very same geographical neighborhood, the communities, in fact. Schools, clinics, henhouses. Yes, domestic detail.

In case anyone is unfamiliar with my position on domestic detail, they could visit one of my first posts, Myth-making and sex.

And, since I’m clearly feeling reckless this evening, more on Dionysus.

It should be obvious by now that I’m not a fan of the Apollonian.

The sternly rational, intractable tract, pitching Logic in the face of Truth. Despite the always acceptable and endless rewriting of tract, gutting of logos, in the face of error, pique, regime change or outing.

What WMDs? The EU? The USSR?

Logos adores acronyms, no? They must be part of that panoply, the accoutrements, the much fancied trappings of desperately frightened male power [please note, gentlemen, I speak of that one type of male power, never thine].

They adore uniforms, whether motley or Hugo Boss, and, yes, I’m treading on thin ice, but it’s my rink. War begets nothing but war, and certainty fathers nothing but oppositional rigidity.

There is a reason why the women of the villages threw their pots and pans to the floor and, lured by the music, followed Dionysus to the hilltop, risking life, soul and chastity. And it had everything to do with that logic that lurks beneath the surface of things.

It really is the magic grove where seduction and true revolution meet.

The anarchist impulse that can indeed mother the turning upside down of things. Of everything.

But instead we are suffocated by hordes of the smarmy pompous ones or the righteously indignant or the insufferably correct. In every institution, on all fronts. No one who seems to understand the truly terrible risks inherent in metamorphosis.

Or why the phoenix leapt into the bonfire.


Comrada B said...

The arrival of the translation of Marco's letter to Belanzauran, reminded me my Maya heart still beat happily within, saved from Aztec display of electorally puffed up courage. It was the prior evening's spewings of the annointed political one's that momentarily made me pass hand over chest to make sure I did not have an ungrateful hole, where once compassion beat. The only thing better than an intelectual orgasm, is a man with perfect timing.

If the PRD's Political Training had included "Principles," "Party History," (truthful) "Debate and Discussion," "Self-Criticism," and "Review," I would not have had to reach (with hand)to that ungrateful gaping hole. As it turned out the the night preceeding this translation, I was inundated by twisted definitions of "Principles," minus ofcourse "Party History" where "Debate and Discussion" disolved instantly in the acid bath of Ad Hominem. "Self-Criticism" and "Review" sanctimoniously waved (as if they were offered sherry from the sideboard) to pompously puff up their political chest. (for God's sakes, BREATH!)

Flaming venomous Shiskebab served up self-rightiously, while entre` in question wasn't even present to retort the slander(brave huh?) No agent provacateur, this poseur had the nerve to keep me in months long far left conversation. Until THE LETTER. You all know your Geometry, right? Apparently, it's not the favored subject of study of the pompous. At every turn, journalistic sensational regurgitation...some of the "Highlights"

"He has euros and dollars!!!" ("The civil society comes from all over the world bringing support in many forms. Maybe it was Team Milano to assist in repair of broken limb of those who have disssented?") The resounding direct reply: "How dare him eat so well while so many go without!!!" (poseur maximus) ("There are many who appear to eat too much who hardley have enough to eat; being thin is not medically speaking a precurser of not having enough to eat.") Reply? I don't know, the silence was deafening. "He does not have the support of any of the indigenous!!!" ("Oh really? after recently meeting with a national delegate of the indigenous, I'd say that is quite wrong.")Reply? "Because he hates AMLO, now even Galeano and Saramago are his enemies!!!" ("Where do you get this rhetoric? from sleazy rag's destined to lie to us all? While these same rag's prop up as God's wax figurne's of politicians?...I think you are drinking the cult koolaid.") Pompous frothing now, "Huh??!!! I am being completely and entirely objective for my people and I am much too busy to arguie this!!!" ("When did you say the debates will begin, then?")

Lured by this pompous poseur of PRD (pride=deadly sin) hidden under thinly vieled deception and blindly believing all election time promises (objective, no?)...all the talks about "Leftism, Democracy, Justice" instantly flushed down the proverbial tubes. So much hypocrisy, so little time.

Proverbial Ad Hominem (Deja Vu journaism) towards the ill-manneered, ungrateful, vulgar one's when they 'rear' at the 'bit' viciously used on that 'rein' to quell dissent...will land them on their arse everytime.

In speachless awe of The Great Auk...mounted proudly......
reemerging from the mist...

From the Desert South West,


Spark said...

FYI Got Arrested for Organising a Tea Party/Picnic in Parliament Square yesterday. This Government is a joke, and it's got to go

Spark said...


I thought the Phoenix leapt out of - and not into - the bonfire? Maybe I am completely wrong though.. not sure. Are u talking moths and naked flames here..? Or caterpillars that must (literally) melt (ie turn to liquid) in their crysalis in order to become a butterfly. Yeah, metamorphosis baby, I'm diggin it X