Monday, January 28, 2008



Illness nearly over. Lets all have a big round of applause for synthetic supper penicillin. Woopie.

I've had time to read a bit since the yuchie bits of this whatever, cold flu thingabobbie hit me and so far the most outstanding book I've managed to get under my belt was "A Mighty Heart" by Mariane Pearl. Now, what I've got to say for awhile may seen disjointed, and the rambleings of a man clearly under the influance if to much Dayquil. That's ok with me, but possibly not you. So, fair warning. The average sentiment around my wee town is that I'm a nice chap but a bit odd. So, honestly, the stuff below may offend you in it's , well, circular honesty.

Ok? consider this a disclaimation. As apposed to claymation.

Right then. this has to do with a nasty side effect of supper antibiotics.And terrorism.That being constipation.

I believe my doctor, ( Howdy Dr. B.) when he says, "take these" so I generally do. Now, when one takes a supper anything medical that is supposed to kill every ounce of bactria slash viral lifeforms that happen to causeing you severe discomfort, you can bet good folding money that includes the intestinal track. Yup. You have no, I repeat, no bactria with which to absorbe nutriants commonly known as "food". The result: constipation. No go, no nothing. Tres bad. "specially if you're ill to begin with.So, one finds oneself in solitude and stareing at the opposite wall.

Very very zen. But as all things in this world, this to shall, umm, pass. Strangely enough I found myself in this very position when it did. Pass. And, as fate may have it, being ill at the same time I needed desperatly to blow my nose. Breathing is good. So, as the intestines finally showed a spark of animation I blew the aforementioned nose. It was reall great, no, really really great. Now, in the last few years I've needed my first pair of glasses to read with, so as a nice side effect I rarely have them with me unless I'm either working or reading. At the moment I was not reading or, for that matter, working, well not making art anyway. What do I do you ask? The truth be told, I tend to pray. Being Sufi, this not uncommon as it might seem. We Sufi's tend to pray at least in back of the mind continuously as everyday life is simply a prayer in motion. I had this lovely thought; "thank you for this" well, "movement." Then as I prayed and felt gratitude for what others would seem ungodly and a tad inappropriate, I was thankful for the paper waiting, the really good honk. This lead to thanks for the house I was in that sheltered me in my illness, and so on and soforth down the line. What really blew me away was eventually I found myself giving thanks to the very virus that put in a position to thank.

Life, and all creation revolves. It's a whirling fractal phenomenon of epic proportions. Love is circular, it returns and spins away more vital than before as if by turning it gathers gravity and mass only to return heavier, more real.

Mariane Pearl wrote a book about her late husband Daniel and the beliefs they shared even after his brutal death at the hands of terrorists. It is a book that strikes with brutally delicate simplicity at the very heart of madness and yet remains ever stronger. Frankly, terrorists are breathing constipation. They've been emptied of the basic stuff of life. The stuff that is messy, and unfortunate and grand and real. Automated beings lacking and semblance of human behavior, barely mimicking the species. Any terrorist. Irish, Congolese, Saudi, American, you name it. They stop revolving. A form of soul stasis that makes them move in strait lines contrary to the ultimate order of creation. I find to both terrifying, sad, and maddening.

So, in defiance of fear, in my own way I go from sickness to health and back again as all who wear flesh must. But I'm more than that. I turn. I grow and live inside and out. it may be messy, but it is balance, so refined and superbly orchestrated that it leaves me breathless when it hits me full force. I've placed a link here for the Pearl Foundation. This has everything to do with everything else. Please at least go and look. Love grows and fear is just something we as people, a species, as children of eternity must put aside.

Something Mariane wrote keeps repeating itself in my head: "People often see peace as the simple absence of war, but it is instead the result of courageous actions taken initiate dialogue between civilizations.

See, circular.

As a race, we humans need a good bowel movement.

Then, we talk it over.

This a prayer of thanks.


1 comment:

Dragon said...

Purged of shit and snot, you must finally be of lighter spirit and body, and ready to polka again. Enjoy the brief respite.