I drank three glasses of Moet and felt a bit sleepy. We were 'ourselves' and that's pretty normal, making for an almost dull affair. Psychoses, hijinks, and emotional dramas, suicide attempts, difficult births, depression, mania, compasion and remorse, broken hearts, dejection, youth, perplexity, vanity, greed and guilt. Between the six of us, there is I'd wager, an above average amount of fairly extreme emotional, spiritual and human beingnesss phenomena experience. But on Friday we were all happy, open and comfortable in each other's spheres. None of us 'biting' when my Uncle, with glint in eye and increase in volume suggested the women and children of Iraqi boat people should be properly 'set-up' (and so on an do forth, but didn't specify whether 'here' or 'there' or why) but the men should rounded up and tied to poles and shot. That oughta stop them coming! He reckoned, gleefully to his mildly incredulous but no fool are we, audience. I didn't cave in on my values entirely, or hide my bushell under the light when he suggested the same treatment be metered out to that Wikileaks bloke. What's his name? What's his name? Assange, I volunteered helpfully. Well. If that fella puts any one, even one of our soldiers lives' in danger he ought to be tied to a pole and shot too!! He was endangering the lives of those boys over there!
No. Uncle Jim. It's the Bushes, Rumsfields, and the Cheney's -- the evil bastards who put them there and the Clinton, Gillard, Obama's idiots who keep them there who are REALLY endangering their lives. The mere mention of Rumsfield fortunately brought out the humanitarian in my Uncle, and seems, sanely enough, I could count on him to loathe Rumsfield. Not so John Howard. And so we got the rap about how well our country was doing financially under good bloke John Howard and how badly it's doing now under The Labor Party.
In retrospect, I think he was being deliberately provocative. Engaging with anything other than the over-riding sense of dispassion in the air on any one of these topics would have inevitably led us towards a fierce debate on INEQUALITY and my personal experience in this area of INJUSTICE would have seen me burning red. Not-identifying, would have been difficult. So I bailed early and often. None of us bit.
Likewise, had I engaged with young lass on train, (who at 25, apparently knew everything there was to know about cutting up vegetables for a roast) but did not realise what she was implying for herself, while she travelled with two sisters, (one of whom was her partner) back to the girls' family home, by imploring to them that a mother's role was to sacrifice everything for the sake of her children, and that their mother, was failing these girls badly by not 'caring' enough. They looked like lovely sisters and there was absolutely no need for me to remind this experienced young miss, that denouncing the motherly quality of her partner's mother wasn't going to get her any brownie points in the long run. Hasta la vista baby. There was no need. But a small part of me glowed red when I began to fully appreciate the sense of ABSOLUTE ENTITLEMENT some of our young ones have in regard to why exactly their parents exist. One day this girl will undoubtedly be a mother. I wonder if then she will feel very much like sacrificing 'everything' for the sake of her and some bloke's sprog-eny? The phylo-genetic poison I inherited from the dark deeds of countless souls' before me, stops in my life, I won't be passing it on, I'll be plugging that leak of psycho-spiritual toxic waste, offering it up for transformation. Hmmm. It's enough. I am no awake enough to have responsibility for not simply passing it down the line.
Kandinsky
