marți, 27 august 2019

The Conversation

The Conversation 


I have talked with my daughter, a while ago.

Now that she has started her studies in Amsterdam, we seem to talk, communicate more than we had had when she was here.
Actually, since we are argumentative, perhaps even quarrelsome both, we clashed while under the same roof.

Here's the benefit of distance for you.
It may even work better this way.

Although I hope I am the only one with this rather difficult personality.
There seems to be always a need to be antagonistic, inflamed by something.

Like now, I write this note next to my other babies, Puccini and Balzac, the red and green and blue and gold respectively macaws, in the garden, sunbathing in the nude, for the garden is protected by vine, while the wind is blowing mildly, the sunshine is gentle, we only have a few days of August left and everything is peaceful, joyful and blissful.

If you are one to be able to enjoy it that is.
For I am concerned with a van near the fence, if not obsessed, at least too preoccupied to make any sense.

Indeed, the van belongs to a company that has been in the news for weeks, maybe a couple of years ago.
It was discovered that they sold large, fabulous perhaps quantities of diluted disinfectant to many hospitals in the country.

It was a huge scandal, for many people died because of the infectious diseases they contracted while the hospitals used the 'disinfectant' that was actually water with a few drops of alcohol...maybe.

Of the dead we need to say only good things...there was a silly saying, in fact they all are ludicrous, which went like that.
The guy who controlled the operation seems to have killed himself, driving straight into a tree...

As for now...I don't know if they still sell the same unbeatable solutions.
But what they have and it is terrible is a dog or two.
That animal is kept on one square meter or so, in a cage.

In the morning, when we jog a bit to the field, to urinate and defecate, that dog goes bananas!
He howls like it's the end of the world.


Actually, come to think of it, it is!
The guy is right!

Look at the Amazon forest.
It's burning like never before.

And they have another idiot in charge there, crazy Bolsanaro.
So this animal may have smelled something!

But his mistress!
I mean, my God!

She doesn't have a fucking heart.
The dog or dogs, once in a while, they have another one there, are left in the sun, in that stupid cage.

Of there is hell, this where she will end up.
But then they would be down there, for the many that have died, infected because their fucked up piss water had no effect on the germs.

Take them to the disappearing Amazon, to work on the fires!

joi, 22 august 2019

Guardians

Guardians


I am reading through Guard of Honor, by James Cozzens.

It is a very long narrative, at over seven hundred pages.
Reluctant to take on such a task, especially given that the debut did not seem convincing enough, now I have finished about a third of the book and got rather involved in it.

There are still passages that seem too long and not absolutely necessary, but there are interesting characters and the intrigue moves along.
A plane piloted by General Beal escapes without a major crash, but had nearly entered into a collision with another airplane, when the other pilot apparently makes a mistake.

Lieutenant colonel Carricker aka Benny, friend of the General, punches the pilot who made the mistake, an African American, called a negro at that time,and thus a series of unfortunate events is started.
Officers are segregated in the use of the club, although Army regulations indicate otherwise and this about to cause a protest and trouble.

These were different times, the base is situated in Florida, and in the South, people were still prejudiced and apparently racist.
I have reached the point where the Judge aka colonel Ross tries to defuse the tension and I am waiting to see how he does...

A side note of gratitude for Puccini, left out of the letter of thanks a couple of days ago.
He is a magnificent, phenomenal, amusing friend.

miercuri, 21 august 2019

Words create worlds

Words create worlds 



Having finished A Fine Balance by the fantastic Rohinton Mistry - there's still one other book by him that I have to read...at the very least, something with Family in the title- I have to think how happy I must be to have a different life than the characters in the book.

I have written a note on it, without spoilers.
But there would be spoilers here, since this is just the continuation of that scribbling and I can lament here the fate of the heroes and the heroine.

I mean poor Dina has to return to her awful brother and be his servant basically. 

Ishvar is crippled, with legs cut off and forced to move on a small, wooden platform, mostly pulled by his nephew.
Whereas Om had protested he would not marry this early, he finishes the game as an eunuch, castrated at the Family Planning outfit.

Nonetheless, these three keep together, as much as it is possible.
Magnanimous Dina makes food for them every day and they eat at one, except for weekend days, when her brother is at home.

He must not know about it, for he would be horrified.
This bond is divine.

They even laugh and scold each other daily.
Alas, Maneck throws himself in front of the fast train!

Why on earth does he do that?
He just returned after eight years in Dubai, the shop waits for him, he has put money aside.

Nevertheless, the collected pain of his friends, his dear Dina has such an impact on him that he cannot take it anymore.

luni, 19 august 2019

Words Create Worlds

Words Create Worlds


There is a mistake I make quite often, in saying that one episode from the past should have ended differently.

If only I could spend my whole life with miss Romania, it would have been divine, Heaven on Earth.
Eric Berne has written a classic of psychology, Games People Play.

One of the most played games is
If It Weren't For You, IIWFY

In many, if not most couples, spouses blame each other for some failed dream or another, maybe all those failed projects.
The author of that Magnus opus pertains that we in fact select our life, or long term, companions with the idea that they will prevent us from doing something we don't want to do anyway.

But we need a scapegoat it seems.

There are two sides that I think of here.
On the one hand, I play the game in reverse, when I often regret the absence of this 
Wonder Woman from my life.

She wasn't!

The proof?
Well after dumping me, the superb, wise, modest, spectacular, ultimate macho, Superman - which the last few words prove that she should have done - she has a few affairs and then boom!

She marries the ultimate Dark Vader, a crook who stole a fortune from the state, poor or just other people and then went to jail.
They even have a kid.

Was that better than me?
In what sense?
He could steal and I couldn't...oh, she couldn't possibly know he is a criminal?

Everybody was or is to one extent.

The other side to this IIWFY game, Berne himself uses abbreviation because it is so frequent it needs a short name, is that I could envisage the scenario with the two of us married.
After all, I had proposed and even if a lot of what happened is distant, foggy or just vanished, I seem to recall that she wasn't dead set against it.

Her Leo mother was.

If we were married,I would have suffered...most likely she would too, for a short while though, for divorce would just settle it.
Seeing her kiss people on stage and screen would have been hard,never mind the nakedness and the hard core scenes that I hear she was present in on occasion, maybe just once...if this be error, maybe never.

Therefore, I should concentrate on ending the chapters dedicated to that love - if that's the word - story and seek equanimity.
It was not to be, but we would have played the IIWFY game together, were well be man and wife.
Finally, she seems to have made another bizarre choice, marrying another odd individual, if fortunately, not another bank robber.

duminică, 18 august 2019

Mad Men…and Women


Mad Men…and Women


I am a very young man.
However, I have met already plenty of Mad Men – not just those from the brilliant series – and quite a few deranged women.

We were talking about that this morning…in the Jacuzzi…where else.

As I cycled on my way home, I was again nearly reversed by a few crazy drivers.
Indeed, a stupid fucker was not just satisfied with coming close to my precious, but mortal self,, as he was entering the main National Road number 1 aka DN1A, from the side and thus he had to allow for priority for traffic already on the main road, such as yours truly.

Oh, no! As Shakespeare says in one of his divine sonnets – ‘Let me not to the marriage of true minds, admit impediments’

The idiot, who was driving a Jaguar and hence thought he is the king of the road, even if he probably begged or did other disgusting things in the west for it, started banging his horn…

What do you want?…says I
Look where you’re going
What do you mean?
This is the road…
Yes and I am where I should be…you better watch what you’re doing for you clearly have no idea
‘These is for cars’ the cretin had no idea of basic grammar rules, using singular where the plural is required …’aici e masini’
Furthermore, he insisted on giving lessons, he would not drive on and mind his business.

Granted, I tend to look for trouble, with a short fuse, it is very often that I resort to fuck you and many, most or all members of the family, albeit the others may be innocent.
Doubtful, but possible.

I was thinking after this Close Encounter of the Third Kind…that this manelist thinks he is the crème de la crème with his Jaguar.
Instead, I am the cool, ‘civilized’ figure, leaving aside the fuck you, goddamn and all the rest.

In the Economist, the other day, there was an article about how cities in the west replace car parks and features related to cars with amenities for bikes.
I hope to survive and see at least a modest change here, the day when no imbecile would drive close with his car, truck or whatever, just because he feels bikes are not for the road, they must be abolished and everything else done to ensure that they get away like headless chicken and stop at the voting booth and elect Trump, the Red Plague here and other morons in various places.

sâmbătă, 17 august 2019

Why bother

Why bother



There are many fools that we meet around and the question is why bother with them.

Many, if not most I talk to at the club, sauna, jacuzzi downtown are fans of conspiracy theories.
Some are Trump supporters, as is natural.

Fools of the world, unite

On the question of the twin towers, most of those I ask, are sure that the Americans have done it to themselves.
There's even one member of the Academy who maintains that!

Imagine that!
Creme de la creme...that's what they're supposed to have there.

But if we look at who sits on top of the world, then we can see that to be human means to be flawed.
We have a number of politicians that use this club.

Seeing as the hotel which is somehow integrated with the club, owns it actually, has been for many years the home of these idiots - not all, but many of them - it is to be expected.

Some belong to the Red Plague outfit.
M..E Psd as they say today...

Others have just roamed the spectrum, like this pretentious small, short fucker who came, again, this morning.
As a former member of the PRM, he is not as loathsome as a new Nazi, but he is not that far.

Populists with no shame, talking about the danger posed by migrants, people of other creeds, faiths, they are just as stupid and obnoxious as the archetypal figure that we seen top of the pyramid of power today...

The Orange Clown, the stooge of the Kremlin, one of the most pathetic liars ever seen, who thinks he is the best president, when all he will ever be is a terrible accident, a mistake of huge proportions,vbut which will soon be history