Sometimes I read the news. O.K.-I read the news obsessively. And, Often, I find strange messages, and even stranger dialogues written between the lines.
Sure–you are thinking what I am thinking right? Your omniscience is all powerful. I can even hear what you are thinking as I write this! STOP!
All of those little red octagons…
So, anyways: occasionally, I read the words of a moron–one of your set? And I read them out loud, over and over, to myself. Sometimes I laugh out loud, and the people in the coffee shop look at me funny.
Sometimes, I dialogue with the text, out loud, too, because it helps me to understand the text–and because, those who are listening in on my inner voices are often educated by my out-loud reading.
Hey-if you want to hear what I am thinking, just ask me-but they never do. They secretly want to have governance over my thought processes by NOT asking what I am thinking.
Well, anyways, this moron–one of yours?-says the other day that ‘drifters who live in moms basement are blank blank blank’ .
And, of course, I had to parse that out: do drifters live in mom’s basements? Do moms have room in their lives for people to drift in and out of them? Do drifters have homes? How can one equally drift, but then too, inhabit basement space? Does drifting rhyme with grifting, which rhymes with thrifting?
Or: do some of those charged with the highest authorities in our nation need an overhaul–because they do not have a basic grasp of English spoken words–do they spend way too much time at the bar, looking like heroes amongst themselves and cronies, and talking to reporters–rather than being heroes and prosecuting the powerful who perpetrate such systemic horrors?
I think they do!
But in defense of drifters everywhere, I must say, that some drifters made a difference in the world.
The IWW-the Wobblies–changed labor relations all over America, and the Americanized world; Bob Dylan was blowin’ in the wind, my friend; and Jeesus was known to inhabit the desert, and Galilee, and he hung out on crosses too, when he wasn’t walking the shit out of and all the fuck over water!!!!!!
And then, there was Louis L’Amour, who drifted himself all the way to Hollywood, and into the psyche of every American Country boy who was born in the latter half of the last century.
He too, was a drifter, and from what he wrote, I gather that he was there, in China, before you were. I especially was shanghai’ed by his tales of ‘old’ Shanghai…
And again-I am no hero, but I know the smell of a rotten cow, and I know what teetering rocks above my head sound like; and too, I know why wandering is an important set of skills that those who are far too stationary rely upon in order to drop rocks on the heads of the unsuspecting.
Louis L’Amour taught me that ” a little man, whips a big man, every time as long as he is in the right, and keeps on a comin’.’
Well, right is indeed a negotiable premise in modern America, isn’t it? But I am small–I think I can figure out why it is that some people just HATE drifters…because stationary targets are so much easier to hit.
Um–maybe stop shooting at them? Err..maybe stick with those of your own kind who egregiously flout your cause? Or–maybe, just maybe, adopt a mindset that not all of us are as concerned about the inner monologues and dialogues of the powerless as you are. Hmmm, a conundrum there…
But please–for your own sake–and for “the children!!!”? Remember that the lessons of a Wandering Man are quite valuable indeed.Not least of which is to know when you are outgunned–and to get help from the maiden you will marry–or from her father.
After all, that was the best lesson Louis ever taught. And I find that worthy, don’t you? After all, I am weaponless, and still somehow, not as gunned up about the need to monitor the powerless as you are.
What does that make you? In LOuis Terms., you are the evil rancher.
And me? I just love Louis’ take on nature, and the human nature that you attempt to corral or subvert with your shenanigans.