Love
Her favorite gift of all was a pair of rabid lovebirds from her father. |
Prelude
Well... this is it.
Really. This is the last 'official' post in the series. There were only ever meant to be five.
Why five?
Five is a peculiar number. Five is found in nature, on a five dollar bill, is the number of digits on most people's hands... fives are all over the place.
Now, anyone who has been paying close attention, like real close attention, might start to notice a few things. Like how the number five doesn't mean much of anything other than a target to aim for and miss by about two hundred thirty-six.
t = 5
t + e > 5
e = 236
Yes, that's right. This is the two hundred forty-first published post. At least it should be if the sidebar on Blogger isn't bending the truth just a little.
Which brings up a problem.
There are still a number of posts that need to be published. Those remaining posts are part of what makes up this 'experiment' or 'exorcise' or 'whatever'. Dr. Mercy's got two more, one for the gender benders, a stack for the French island stuff...
All of the ideas came at more or less one time...flash-pop. It all fits together, really, it does.
Which may take some time. Going back, combing through, interlinking, sanding off the rough edges.
But it's pretty much done.
So, like, uh, here it is...
V
Yes, it's about marriage, giving a fuck, and realizing how funny everything looks, especially while trying not to go insane (or admit that you are). But life is like that. What was once somehow a cool VHS movie, that had been a lot like a documentary, that was a lot like a book... what was once an interesting movie to watch by a kid on a long-ago rainy day stands and delivers more than he ever thought to bargain for. Like a venereal disease, a gift that keeps on giving.
Just watch...
and try not to laugh.
To think... it all started here:
This was the first time I read that original post. Nice prelude indeed.
ReplyDeleteIt's funny when you think about it... What attracts so many westerners here in the first place? And then you realize it, Japan does a wonderful job of marketing itself to the rest of the world. So, people come here and see what life is like. Then, they remember times like the one when they met the most attractive, charming person, and finally decided to take the relationship to the next step and go home with that person. But, when they stepped into the house and saw clothes piled up on the floor and mildew on the kitchen walls and garbage piled up on the coffee table...
Thanks for getting to the bottom of the post (which goes right back to the top of it all).
DeleteJapan does, or has done, a spectacular job of marketing itself not only to the world, but also to itself. Those damp piles of laundry, that toxic mold, the stack of receipts on the table that haven't been put away... doesn't anybody notice? And do they even care? When I think about it, I kind of do care.
You've already read and commented on the Small Print. That's the second most looked at post, actually the first in natural views (I think). 'Summer Heat' ranks on top thanks to Loco's Blog Party. Must be the lightening.
Now, the 'So what next?' question comes up.
After the drip and tube feed are secured, the blog will be monitored from a distance in its latent state. Scheduled care will be given ('cause those bedsores can be nasty), but in terms of attention, there are more pressing concerns that are in dire need of attention.
You appear to be in a good position that gives you a perspective many people will only imagine. Thank you for taking the time to say that you can relate.
Regards.
Always a pleasure. Hope we'll see more of your thoughts here when the writing spirit moves you...
ReplyDeleteI'm Dayle...you're Randle...I tagged you...you're "it"
ReplyDeleteA war has been waged and the battlefield has been moved. It's amazing. You stood on the sideline..successfully knowing you didn't need to choose a side, nobody did...but they did anyway?
"For want of the price of tea and a slice
The old man died"
I came here to not be killed....by the police. I never saw Japan as anything other than a place far but not too far from my spiritual home. They have moved on transferred or been promoted...and jailed. I am soon to be free from these bonds that chained me. I shackled myself. But while leaning on the wall of this dingy cell called Japan I have seen the loons and drunks and freaks all packed together.
I laugh and feel pitty.. an itty bitty for the future sucking on a milkless titty
(Funny how this works. A comment waits for approval, but the meaning isn't really clear until it actually gets posted and the spacing sorts everything out. Even at that, everything takes time to adjust itself)
DeleteThoughts went a little sideways there and somehow ended up looking at a Thin Blue Line. Then put it together that the names belong to Harding and McMurphy. Duh.
That 'conflict' to which you may be referring... a lot has gone on in the Menlo Park area. Just remembering is kind of odd. As a kid, having no idea what is going on sometimes allows a person to be in places and see things (or not) because very few 'smart' people seem to ever notice their children or leave them with adequate, if any, instruction.
Choosing sides... a lot of what I write here and elsewhere is connected by threads. A number of those threads can be understood as mnemonic devices for everything in my universe. It's when what goes on in my head is not so different from what goes on in other people's heads exhibits itself in a peculiar way that I kind of notice. Some people talk about mirrors. Yeah.
To keep things clean and not choose sides or get caught up in choosing sides... to keep things clean here in this... uh... collective asynchronous computer mediated communicative portal... I try to to keep things clean (loop). Though playful, I have no intention of 'playing games' with people. Not necessarily because playing games with people is dangerous, but because should I 'choose a side'- I can get caught up in something that takes away or distracts from the real world instead of enhancing it.
Through not choosing sides, I have discovered very real links in a very real world that I am now able to make very real connections with.
And by doing this, making connections, I can be viewed as belonging to one side or the other. That makes me cautious. Unseen consequences... we all deal with them. Round and round.
Now, before this drones on and become what I have recently learned is called a "serial monologue"...
I put my ear to the track and can hear a song I recognize by the echo of the first few words. And then it says:
After all we're just ordinary men
Plenty of theories out there interpreting what the lyrics mean. For me, the poetry expresses it well enough. I just have to slow down and listen.
You NOT getting killed by the police, a samurai, sword, a gang of noisy yankee, a river, and who knows what else... in my opinion, is a good thing.
Thanks for reminding me that we all got choices.
And good luck with those shackles.
Ah marriage, the last milestone I will take in my young adult life.
ReplyDeleteHarding's rant is something I have thought about often (more so in my adult life after I met a certain friend)... maybe I derailed the meaning of where Harding was going with it... Talking about the parallels between his relationship with his wife and interpersonal relationships with humans in general reminds me of my friend's fear of living alone. He hates(d) people but could never bring himself to live alone. He was trapped in a toxic relationship but couldn't pry his way free. He needed her but hated her... and sometimes he just loved her. It was strange.
I apply Harding's rant to the whole, "You can't live with 'em; you can't live without 'em." Maybe One Flew Over the Cuckoos Nest has morphed so much in meaning because of how often I read it and how young I was when I began reading it the first time. Maybe my meaning of the book has matured with me and my thoughts on it are probably far different had I read the book for the first time in my 20's. Maybe not...
Also of the 5's you mentioned I immediately thought five finger discount.
One of the happiest couples I know is not married. They each have their own space, actually requiring less and less.
DeleteAnother of the happiest couples I know is married. They live together and are pretty low-key. They do know how to give each other space.
Both of those couples, I would say, are a rarity.
Your question: Where was Harding going with this?
Looking at the book, and I may be reading it wrong, the scene from the movie is an amalgamation of pages, mixing Chief's memory of Pete in with a meeting Randle never witnessed. Harding, if anyone ever figures out where he was going in terms of being able to come up with any answers about interrelationships, content, form and everything else mentioned in the tags... if anyone ever comes up with anything that sounds like a good and final answer, they'd probably be awarded the highest praise and summarily crucified. Guess these relationship things take a lot of work. And damn those who actually make them work.
The might five finger discount. Last time I got caught in action was at K-Mart... got just a little too excited that day. Memories. Have been pretty good since then.
Thank you.