If you enjoyed the read, please feel free to share it I got me a whole new plan. Forget SE Asia; it’s SOOO yesterday. I’m joking, of course, but Me and My Mirror can’t go there cuz we’re broke, so we’ve recast our efforts (uh-oh, I’m speaking in the 3rd person)… but no can do. I took a job teaching English in SW Russia during the heart of yet another Russian Economic Crisis. That’s how I roll. Anyhow, when have they NOT been in crisis? It’s how they roll. Socialism was arguably the most costly experiment in the History of Humankind. I feel a lot of things, but it would maybe be nice to put a lit candle on socialism’s grave (a nice aromatic candle of competitive market manufacture). And maybe the West bank of the Volga would be the best place to do dat. In terms of pure numbers, I don’t think you could argue (there’s that word!) that Stalin wasn’t the Biggest Asshole To Have EVER Walked The Planet. I mean, Hitler was like Boy George next to him. It would be nice to sit on the banks of his semi-benighted and ex-self-named city and have a sip of wodka and call him a Douchebag and give him a solid finger. Just sayin’. It’s not often I do Math, so it’s imperfect. ROCK PAPER SCISSORS I’m trusting my imperfect math to guide me thru shrinking sums of shrunken roubles and trusting my faulty sextant to triangulate me, and my mirrors, by turns, and by and by, thru the Crimea, Ukraine, and then ex-Yugoslavia, ie Bosnia. I fucked up but I’m not above putting lipstick on a pig. You gotta be flexible. Bapu, our clay-footed Mahatma Ghandi, was always able to put lipstick on a pig or at least put starch in his sagging dhoti. When button-holed by a crazed fundamental Hindu and asked, ‘Just what are you?!’ Bapu calmly replied, like the sage he was: ‘Actually, I’m a Jew.’ And so they killed him. Moving on to Eurasia: Anyone else in the area who can show me a gaggle of unhappy phantom limbs is welcome to join the party. Watch me go. I’m pissed at my failure...
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If you enjoyed the read, please feel free to share itThose of us that work with mirrors start to see them everywhere. It’s oddly comforting; there are mirror-like messages everywhere we look. You don’t have to look too deep. This from a ‘travelogue’ by a Calcutta writer, Amitav Ghosh , describing the murderous riots after India’s partition and the formation of Pakistan and ‘East Pakistan’ (soon to become Bangladesh): “There had been flames dancing around the walls of our house in Dhaka (Bangladesh) and there had been a riot in Calcutta too, similar in every respect except that there it had been Muslims who had been attacked by Hindus. But equally, in both cities – and this must be said, it must always be said, for it is the incantation that redeems our sanity – in both Dhaka and Calcutta, there were exactly mirrored stories of Hindus and Muslims coming to each others’ rescue, so that many more people were saved than killed.” In the end, it seems, we come to each others’ ...
Read MoreWe make them; there’s no getting around it. Blueprint, business plan, plan of attack, playlist, itinerary, best case scenario, bbbbbucket list.
A pitch first to ourselves then to the wider world.
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