Juxtaposing Paradox

Ya know, eventually it just gets to the point where all the stuff us fringe whackos have been saying for years is plain ole MSM headline news.  Eventually, I have to ask myself, "Self?  Where do you go from here?"

Not only was the answer not forthcoming, but my cat was staring at me, as if to say, "So, now you're talking to yourself?"

What's worse is that the news is coming so hot and heavy this year that one faces to problem of having too much to say, rather than too little.  I am reminded constantly of William Wordsworth's brief but powerful poem:

The world is too much with us; late and soon, 

Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers;— 

Little we see in Nature that is ours; 

We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon! 

This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon; 

The winds that will be howling at all hours, 

And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers; 

For this, for everything, we are out of tune; 

It moves us not. Great God! I’d rather be 

A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn; 

So might I, standing on this pleasant lea, 

Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn; 

Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea; 

Or hear old Triton blow his wreathèd horn.

The constant clamor of modern society is enough to drive one to the jungle.  At least there, life is more direct and simple: survive.  Fighting with bats and monkeys for a hand of bananas seems a bit more direct and one can easily understand both the goal and the means.

Any more, it is impossible to discern motives.  Of Friday night, when the Turkish military attempted to oust Erdogan, one begins to hope that something random has entered our entirely too ordered sphere.  Within hours though, it is cast down and quickly the speculation begins that Erdogan staged his own coup in order to separate the loyalists from the insurgents.  

This is typical of today's world.  No one seems to have a grasp on what exactly is going on.  What seems clear is that the world is rushing head-long into another major war.  Even now, the pieces are in place.  The social disruptions in the US and EU/UK.  The territorial saber-rattling in Asia over the South China Sea.  The tempests of teetering South American economies and governments.  It's as if someone has thrown a switch in the past year or so and set off a series of Rube Goldberg mouse traps.

The plot twists of recent history are becoming tiresome.  It's like Lawrence Kasdan's flick Body Heat, the viewer is plumb worn out by the end from all the twists and surprises.  Just when you think you have a handle on what's going on, the rug gets yanked out from under you - over and over again.

Prime example: Trump picks Pence as running mate.  Huh?!  That's like oil choosing water as a mixer.  There may be some wisdom to this, but one of the words I don't associate with Trump is "wisdom."  "Bull in a china shop" is more likely to come to mind.

Just now, another fine film metaphor comes to mind: David Lynch's Blue Velvet.  The opening scene shows us an idyllic montage of small-town America.  A man is watering his picture-perfect garden, with white picket fence and swelling sentimental theme.  Suddenly, the man has an aneurysm, falls dead, and the camera tracks beneath the Chem-Lawn surface to the grotesque insect wars lurking just beneath.  It's one of those perfect visual queues that tells an entire story in a few brief frames.

Like the Fourth Principle in the Kybalion, we are being forced to reconcile polar opposites.  Eventually, a circle comes back on itself.  There is no true paradox.  At some level, the world appears to be an Hermetic working.  Nothing else explains entirely the sheer depth and breadth of contradictions to be found.

We are asked on a regular basis to hold mutually exclusive thoughts and to believe both with firm resolve.  Black is white, and white is black.  This is best shown in the two color palettes.  In the additive (light) palette, all colors mixed equally become white.  In the subtractive (pigment) palette, the complete lack of color gives us white.  It is at once a contradiction and a tautology.

As we plow forward into the undisturbed soil of future tense, we would do well to watch our backs.  Like the god Janus, we must be of two minds and two faces at all times..  This is a doubly apt metaphor, since Janus is the god of gateways and threshholds.  As we enter somewhere, we are also mindful of where we have come from and the dichotomy of inner and outer spaces.

There is no contradiction but the one we create with our beliefs.

In A Pig's Eye

A thousand years ago, there was a comedian named Yakov Smirnoff, whose famous tag line was, "I loaf dees cone-tree."

After my last nemesis, I mean wife, stole everything I ever owned, destroyed our family and strung herself up to the shower head, I pretty much lost my sense of humor. There was nothing left to laugh at and my insides just withered and wasted.

Thankfully, there was a place in the world called Indonesia. Sometimes this place can be a laugh a minute. If there's a labor-intensive, illogical and strangely effective way to do something, then I can guarantee it's being done right now in my neighborhood, and in neighborhoods all over the country.

Maybe it's the fact that I am like Gandalf in Hobbiton; a giant hulk of a man wandering blindly around a world made of and for short people. Certainly I provide endless fodder for the local folk as I nearly knock myself out on overhangs or the chain of broken chairs and stools in my wake as they collapse into their own footprints without resistance of any kind.

Maybe it's the guy burning the trash down the street complaining about air quality in Jakarta, or the folks who buy motorcycles to get around the city more quickly and end up becoming the reason why traffic here is such a nightmare. Perhaps it's the way folks complain about how dirty Jakarta is as they mindlessly toss their wrappers and plastic cups on the ground as they speak.

It could be the way someone will spend 70,000 rupiah to take a taxi across town to save 40,000 on an item that is on sale. Or the sign I saw a while back: Rp.15,000/each or 2 for Rp.35,000. The really funny part was the people buying two. Certainly, watching a woman haggle for an hour with a vendor in the market to save Rp.1,000 (about 10 cents) on a hand of bananas. The best way to get an Indonesian's attention is to say something is free. The second best way is to say it's on sale. Even when neither is true.

It's always a good laugh to see skin-whitening products sold here in the diametically opposite way that tanning products are sold in the states. I'm trying to think of a way to open whitening salons. I'd make a gajillion bucks, trust me. Of course, cigarette ads are infinitely humorous. They are still advertised on TV here, but you are not allowed to show anyone actually smoking. So, you get streams of images of people doing really healthy things followed by the brand logo. Kinda like beer companies sponsoring race cars.

It definitely includes the Indonesian version of the Physician's Desk Reference, which lists only one malady, masuk angin, and only one cure, tolak angin. This literally means "the wind enters," and is blamed for just about anything that makes you uncomfortable. The cure means "to push away the wind." What makes it more humorous is that Indonesian humor is very broad and slapstick. They don't have stand-up comedians, and certainly have never considered word-play as a form of humor. So when I come along and change things around by saying, "masuk anjing" and "tolak anjing," (the dog enters and push away the dog), it takes them about 15 seconds to register what I just said, and then it becomes a running joke. There's an expression, "Okelah kalo begitu," which translates as "alright if that way," or "whatever." So I turn it around as, "Okelah kalo begini (alright if this way). The room full of RCA dogs always tickles me as they ponder the reversal. I could be the Indonesian version of George Carlin if I get an hour-long routine worked out.

One thing Indonesians do that just mystifies me is unplugging everything all the time. Not that the action alone is humorous, but the explanation is that electricity will leak out and cost money. So I just ask a simple question. If that is true, then why do open wall sockets not leak? Stops 'em dead every time.

Indonesians are penny-pinchers to the point of pathological obsession. They make Dutch and Scots look like profligate spenders. When you point out the illogic of their actions, they just walk away shaking their heads as if thinking, "What a dolt. I just saved Rp.35,000 by taking a taxi across town."

Certainly the complaints about corruption make for good entertainment. An Indonesian will rue the rampant government corruption while paying bribes and accepting kick-backs. In fact, it's so ingrained in the way business is done that no one even thinks about when they are doing it. They just complain about some theoretical thing that exists "out there." The dichotomy makes for great theater of the absurd.

Something that tickles me to no end is the fact that millions migrate to Jakarta because this is where the good jobs are, and once they arrive they start complaining because there are so many people here because this is where the good jobs are.

The Indonesian brain must have no bridge between the left and right hemispheres. Nothing else could explain the way one can hold opposite and conflicting ideals, and yet not see the simple contradiction. One thing I will give them, though. At least I found my laugh again.

Thanks! I needed that.

I Loaf dees cone-tree.