26 September 2010


They say being a charming, attractive, successful, single chap in modern America is as good as it gets, but I have my doubts. Life in this country today is what I imagine a sentence in a mental institution is like. Unreality abounds. And there is no escaping it.

For the observant outsider, it is a spectacle. That social discourse has been cheapened and confused is most evident in the content on the interwebs, which becomes more meaningless by the hour. In the constant squabbles, the neverending brand marketing, self-promotion, and one-upmanship, modern people resemble nothing less than prison inmates screaming at the concrete walls and hurling handfuls of piss and shit at one another through the bars, cackling and groaning down the cold, half-lit hallways. Anyone can see they are not happy. They are just waiting to be put out of their misery.

Like ripples from a pond-dropped stone, the repurcussions from events of the last year have subsided as the months proceed. It takes time. It is an ongoing process. The key is to press on and stay involved. As you may have heard, my calendar has been marked by a series of obligations professional and social. Yachting activities have occupied an increasing portion of my time this season, not least because sailing takes the mind off other things.

Be assured, I know who I am and where I have been, and therefore, if the moment presents itself, I will love you and respect you and accept you for who you are. It is only those who lack a sense of identity and heritage, who are bereft of self-knowledge, who are the most unforgiving of the other and seek its eradication everywhere.

Abroad beckons. In preparation for the days ahead I have cropped my hair according to the traditional Prussian configuration--#1.5 on the back and sides and #3 on top--and encouraged a beard which even now at this early stage is showing flecks of blonde and red. My face is tanned from yachting days and my blue Nordic eyes, like deep clean sapphires. As always, I am ready for blood.


initials CG said...

This was great! Your prose I hope.

I leave this column for 5th martini more or less.

And to quote Martin Sheen in a sleek movie that Conrad wrote better..."it really put the hook in me"

Anonymous said...

Living in this country is like living in a mental institution . . that's awful. Now, I admit my southern family oftens sounds like a soap opera. He left her, the daughter left, and someone is on the verge of a breakdown. But I love them---they're are my family and I'm lucky to have so many of them in my life.