ezs note: If you live in the greater Austin, Texas area - especially in the Georgian Drive/Georgian Acres area - and you have any information about these crimes, please call the police at 512-974-5095. Thanks.
You can't not be a political being, even when you're announcing that you're not a political being.
- Ali Smith
from The Paris Review
Sometimes, you're lucky enough to hit upon a bit of serendipity, a bit of luck. I was reading an essay by Ali Smith, a writer of poetry and prose. Ms. Smith is a bookish sort, or at least those are the feelings that you'll be left with after reading her conversation. However, in the latter course of conversing, she talks of "political being(s)". I thought about that, rereading the short line, and then smiled.
How do we handle this brief life? I see many people who are perfectly content with skimming the newspaper or the same in a computer, but after about five minutes, they move on to other areas of life. Considering how hectic life is, it's understandable. Ah, but now enter the Age of Trump. I honestly don't understand how one can withstand this blithering fool and not carry a sign in front of the Capitol or city hall.
We all have one day less. For god's sake, make it worth it.
We all live in extraordinary times. In 1997, the movie Ma Vie en Rose was out, but save for a few crusaders, this film was definitely not for the popcorn crowd. In much of the United States, it still isn't. The difference is, though, is that much of the transgender community is now knocking, knocking, incessantly knocking. Which is why it's so sad to see Transgender On Screen by John Phillips. I had hoped I would come back having read a thoughtful book. What I got, despite its dense read, was a decidedly unintelligent tome.
I will grant Phillips this: the book came out in 2008, giving him a bit of breathing room. However, when I consider Alain Berliner's masterwork. it's not easy to forgive Philipps. What he tries to do - unsuccessfully - is to slap Jacques Lacan's papers on it. And when did Lacan die? In 1981. Shit, I wasn't out of high school yet. I don't wish to go so far as some critics do by painting him with the 'cult of Lacan', but I do have to say that he was a man of his time - not ours.
So, this is it. I have so many thoughts during the hours, the days, the weeks and, decades, really. I haven't written in such a long time, though. The stroke really did a number on my thoughts and musings. But I feel OK now, really. I think what helped me out a lot was my visit to Real Art Ways. I felt that my mind, as broken as it might be, had a lot to announce to the world. I remember my thoughts about Café Zehner and its raid by the police - and this was happening in 1921, in Germany. How things might have radically changed, how little Adolf would have been relegated to some little hovel, how some aunt would have explained he was quite cracked, really.
My thoughts are silent no longer. A better, more humane world - perhaps.