The civil was seems to have calmed last night. There's no peace at all, for certain, but it did seem hopeful.
Locals greeted me in the street from both factions and were glad to see me, I think. I felt safe again.
And, I found the Newcomer actually sweeping a sidewalk! Perhaps he is startled by the civil war as I am.
News of the civil war is spreading to the mainland. International news outlets have picked it up and I fear for our image internationally if the news spreads too far.
16.4.08
13.4.08
Civil war
With the memories of last week's disturbance fresh in my mind, I have been seeing more and more signs that this civil was is long-standing and may last some time.
I think there are strong anti-mainland factions here who were told, unrealistically, that linkages with the mainland would bring prosperity and for whom that prosperity has not materialized.
For some islanders the prosperity has been all too real, but this may have alienated them from their poorer brethren. This may create an expectation from the upper classes that the lower classes should suffice themselves with the overall increased prosperity of the island and not quibble over their own individual circumstances.
What does all this mean to me?
I think I, as the resident mainlander, may be able to bridge the gap, or at least I must avoid being drawn in by one sect or another. When I talk to a sect leader, I will need to emphasize that I support all the islanders, that other islands are also supportive of peace and prosperity on the island, and that civil disturbances are normal...
I must not blame sect leaders for problems, I must not condemn behaviours by sect leaders against one another, and I must ensure that I am not dependent on any one sect for my own survival. Roads to my house, power, water, and other utilities all can wait until the population here is at peace with itself.
I think there are strong anti-mainland factions here who were told, unrealistically, that linkages with the mainland would bring prosperity and for whom that prosperity has not materialized.
For some islanders the prosperity has been all too real, but this may have alienated them from their poorer brethren. This may create an expectation from the upper classes that the lower classes should suffice themselves with the overall increased prosperity of the island and not quibble over their own individual circumstances.
What does all this mean to me?
I think I, as the resident mainlander, may be able to bridge the gap, or at least I must avoid being drawn in by one sect or another. When I talk to a sect leader, I will need to emphasize that I support all the islanders, that other islands are also supportive of peace and prosperity on the island, and that civil disturbances are normal...
I must not blame sect leaders for problems, I must not condemn behaviours by sect leaders against one another, and I must ensure that I am not dependent on any one sect for my own survival. Roads to my house, power, water, and other utilities all can wait until the population here is at peace with itself.
12.4.08
Things I have done today
Petted cats
Been grumpy
Had a cup of tea
Eaten toast
Installed stair nosing
Messed about with the bathroom door
Had more tea
Tidied the bedroom
Made a bed
Made another bed
Cleaned the bathroom
surfed crooksandliars.com
Been bad
Ate lunch
Had a break to read
Had a coke
Cleaned the entryway
Stripped some paint off the doorways that jam
Cut excess vapour barrier from the swale between the houses
stripped more paint
cleaned the laundry area
Did a load of laundry
put away towels
watered the cats
watered the plants
hung some pictures
Called my boy
Raked my front yard
Tried to fix a birdfeeder
Had a beer
Had a nap
Fed the birds
Patched a hole in the drywall, and damn nicely, thank you
Listened to the Habs game
Had another beer
Changed the water for the fish
Been bad again...
Been grumpy
Had a cup of tea
Eaten toast
Installed stair nosing
Messed about with the bathroom door
Had more tea
Tidied the bedroom
Made a bed
Made another bed
Cleaned the bathroom
surfed crooksandliars.com
Been bad
Ate lunch
Had a break to read
Had a coke
Cleaned the entryway
Stripped some paint off the doorways that jam
Cut excess vapour barrier from the swale between the houses
stripped more paint
cleaned the laundry area
Did a load of laundry
put away towels
watered the cats
watered the plants
hung some pictures
Called my boy
Raked my front yard
Tried to fix a birdfeeder
Had a beer
Had a nap
Fed the birds
Patched a hole in the drywall, and damn nicely, thank you
Listened to the Habs game
Had another beer
Changed the water for the fish
Been bad again...
11.4.08
From the ferry
I'm on the ferry to the mainland tonight
The Newcomer is overseeing the construction of a new road, as suits his skills, and I had a thought on him:
He works very lttle. He enjoys a particular hill-top and spends a lot of his time there, frequently surrounded by workers who have helped him get up there.
(And I'm starting to find his litter scattered all over the island. )
Planting is coming and we could use all hands in the fields, but the newcomer sits many days on his clifftop.
I begin to see signs that he will not last long.
9.4.08
A riot on the island
As I live here, I begin to see the character of the island in more depth.
On... Sunday... I guess, there was a riot in centre of the main town. It was dealt with quietly and calmly by the authorities in a marked manner, but I when I investigated the cause, it seems the cause is the influence of the mainland on the island itself.
These people are used to a carefree, independent lifestyle. If they weren't surrounded by ocean they would be nomads.
The main influences of the mainland that anger the islanders are: having to comply with mainland environmental standards, having to set aside large parts of the island for airports and seaports, and the fact that mainlander accomodations (including my house and whatever accommodation the Newcomer is using) inhibit their ability to build new homes and farm new lands.
I was concerned at my role in all this, and fear that the Bwana may give in to pressure from the islanders and ban all mainlanders from the island.
To mitigate this, I will attempt to live on the island, making as little impact as possible. This may keep the islanders from seeing me as part of the problem.
On... Sunday... I guess, there was a riot in centre of the main town. It was dealt with quietly and calmly by the authorities in a marked manner, but I when I investigated the cause, it seems the cause is the influence of the mainland on the island itself.
These people are used to a carefree, independent lifestyle. If they weren't surrounded by ocean they would be nomads.
The main influences of the mainland that anger the islanders are: having to comply with mainland environmental standards, having to set aside large parts of the island for airports and seaports, and the fact that mainlander accomodations (including my house and whatever accommodation the Newcomer is using) inhibit their ability to build new homes and farm new lands.
I was concerned at my role in all this, and fear that the Bwana may give in to pressure from the islanders and ban all mainlanders from the island.
To mitigate this, I will attempt to live on the island, making as little impact as possible. This may keep the islanders from seeing me as part of the problem.
8.4.08
4 o'clock panic attack
Wherein the stealthy dog blogs through a panic attack:
My hands are cold.
The air smells like tin.
There's a little nucleus of hot heat on my sternum but my chest is ice cold.
My spine is curving forward ever so slightly.
There's no pain, just some tightness in the back of my legs
I can't take a deep breath
I force myself to breath deeply, the pain in my legs increases
My face gets hot as the blood flow returns to it
Each breath feels like I'm dragging the air up a flight of stairs
I feel dizzy and very very sleepy
My attention is all over the place, and I can't focus
Holding my breath is less work than breathing, but I force myself to breath
I can feel tears welling up, and a knot in my throat, but I hold them back and down
I try exhaling... maybe I need more CO2
I think it's over... I'm very hungry.
Elapsed time, 6 minutes.
My hands are cold.
The air smells like tin.
There's a little nucleus of hot heat on my sternum but my chest is ice cold.
My spine is curving forward ever so slightly.
There's no pain, just some tightness in the back of my legs
I can't take a deep breath
I force myself to breath deeply, the pain in my legs increases
My face gets hot as the blood flow returns to it
Each breath feels like I'm dragging the air up a flight of stairs
I feel dizzy and very very sleepy
My attention is all over the place, and I can't focus
Holding my breath is less work than breathing, but I force myself to breath
I can feel tears welling up, and a knot in my throat, but I hold them back and down
I try exhaling... maybe I need more CO2
I think it's over... I'm very hungry.
Elapsed time, 6 minutes.
6.4.08
Psalms
I have been working on a bit of a project to reduce 'Scripture' down to the actual quotes of Jesus Christ, on the naive assumption that what he said should sum up the whole and entirety of Christian dogma, and that all the rest is theory, history, and discussion. I feel the leftovers should be bundled separately and discussed separately as is the Talmud from the Torah as an example, and should not be taken as The Word Of God.
This is going along fine until...
The most important part of my life decides to take a train trip to shitville via crappertown, and in the midst of vainly attempting to buttress my brain and my patience and my dignity against the inevitable sheer-psychotic-anxiety-attack-blood-pressure moments involved in that... I run into the Psalms. BAM
The folks who wrote the psalms knew what they were talking about. My proof for that is that I cannot get through ONE of them without bursting into tears.
Psalm 116:
1 love the LORD, for he heard my voice;
he heard my cry for mercy.
I am more acutely aware than ever of the wonderful people who have been participants in my life up to and at this point, and mayhaps they are God's response to my cry for mercy. "A slight reduction in sons-of-bitches, my lord," I quoth, and he respondeth.
2 Because he turned his ear to me,
I will call on him as long as I live.
Any of my wonderful friends (gifts from God, all) who doubt my faith, or who question it do not understand the depths of my gratitude for them. For ever and ever I will go to Him.
3 The cords of death entangled me,
the anguish of the grave [a] came upon me;
I was overcome by trouble and sorrow.
Now let's be clear, I'm not dying, but I tell you I can feel the anguish of the grave upon me. The primitive base realization that I am well and truly in trouble, and paralyzed by terror of what is to come.
4 Then I called on the name of the LORD :
"O LORD, save me!"
I have called "save me" curled on the floor in my hallway. I have called it from my bed at 4:30 in the morning. I have called it in the snow. I have called it in my front stairway staring at the door. I have called it in theatres. I have called it more times than I can picture in my car. I have called it in public transit. I have called it in the sunshine.
5 The LORD is gracious and righteous;
our God is full of compassion.
And you know, he wasn't even mad, or disappointed in me.
6 The LORD protects the simplehearted;
when I was in great need, he saved me.
This is my favourite verse so far... how terrifying to be simplehearted, and simpleminded... but what comfort to know I am protected. I need to hear that, and some long-dead Rabbi predicted my need.
7 Be at rest once more, O my soul,
for the LORD has been good to you.
I have worked with large animals for a number of years, and I see the great Hostler holding my halter and saying "easy... easy now... easy..." just as we did in thunderstorms, or surrounded by loud children or during harnessing.
24 hours pass
8 For you, O LORD, have delivered my soul from death,
my eyes from tears,
my feet from stumbling,
And my goodness he might yet... my eyes are freed from tears and my feet did not stumble. I still don't know where I'm going, but at least I'm getting there upright
9 that I may walk before the LORD
in the land of the living.
Not sit quietly and wait to die, then walk with Him. No, walk before Him now, like a soldier on parade.
10 I believed; therefore [b] I said,
"I am greatly afflicted."
Oh, don't I just believe that I am afflicted... and Lord, do I cry it
11 And in my dismay I said,
"All men are liars."
At this point, the whinging has reached critical volume... but Lo... he has heard me. This begs one question:
12 How can I repay the LORD
for all his goodness to me?
What favour can I do that will repay this, what gift can I give?
13 I will lift up the cup of salvation
and call on the name of the LORD.
14 I will fulfill my vows to the LORD
in the presence of all his people.
Wow... that seems to fit the bill completely. Not that I will sacrifice bulls and goats, but that I will show my gratitude always and in front of all people.
15 Precious in the sight of the LORD
is the death of his saints.
He saw my pain and he valued it. He saw my suffering and it mattered to him.
16 O LORD, truly I am your servant;
I am your servant, the son of your maidservant [c] ;
you have freed me from my chains.
17 I will sacrifice a thank offering to you
and call on the name of the LORD.
You my main man! You need anything, you let me know! An internal swelling of gratitude that eclipses the previous sorrow like moon would eclipse a flashlight.
18 I will fulfill my vows to the LORD
in the presence of all his people,
19 in the courts of the house of the LORD—
in your midst, O Jerusalem.
Praise the LORD. [d]
Just so we're clear, this is my song of great gratitude, my song of great Thanksgiving.
This is going along fine until...
The most important part of my life decides to take a train trip to shitville via crappertown, and in the midst of vainly attempting to buttress my brain and my patience and my dignity against the inevitable sheer-psychotic-anxiety-attack-blood-pressure moments involved in that... I run into the Psalms. BAM
The folks who wrote the psalms knew what they were talking about. My proof for that is that I cannot get through ONE of them without bursting into tears.
Psalm 116:
1 love the LORD, for he heard my voice;
he heard my cry for mercy.
I am more acutely aware than ever of the wonderful people who have been participants in my life up to and at this point, and mayhaps they are God's response to my cry for mercy. "A slight reduction in sons-of-bitches, my lord," I quoth, and he respondeth.
2 Because he turned his ear to me,
I will call on him as long as I live.
Any of my wonderful friends (gifts from God, all) who doubt my faith, or who question it do not understand the depths of my gratitude for them. For ever and ever I will go to Him.
3 The cords of death entangled me,
the anguish of the grave [a] came upon me;
I was overcome by trouble and sorrow.
Now let's be clear, I'm not dying, but I tell you I can feel the anguish of the grave upon me. The primitive base realization that I am well and truly in trouble, and paralyzed by terror of what is to come.
4 Then I called on the name of the LORD :
"O LORD, save me!"
I have called "save me" curled on the floor in my hallway. I have called it from my bed at 4:30 in the morning. I have called it in the snow. I have called it in my front stairway staring at the door. I have called it in theatres. I have called it more times than I can picture in my car. I have called it in public transit. I have called it in the sunshine.
5 The LORD is gracious and righteous;
our God is full of compassion.
And you know, he wasn't even mad, or disappointed in me.
6 The LORD protects the simplehearted;
when I was in great need, he saved me.
This is my favourite verse so far... how terrifying to be simplehearted, and simpleminded... but what comfort to know I am protected. I need to hear that, and some long-dead Rabbi predicted my need.
7 Be at rest once more, O my soul,
for the LORD has been good to you.
I have worked with large animals for a number of years, and I see the great Hostler holding my halter and saying "easy... easy now... easy..." just as we did in thunderstorms, or surrounded by loud children or during harnessing.
24 hours pass
8 For you, O LORD, have delivered my soul from death,
my eyes from tears,
my feet from stumbling,
And my goodness he might yet... my eyes are freed from tears and my feet did not stumble. I still don't know where I'm going, but at least I'm getting there upright
9 that I may walk before the LORD
in the land of the living.
Not sit quietly and wait to die, then walk with Him. No, walk before Him now, like a soldier on parade.
10 I believed; therefore [b] I said,
"I am greatly afflicted."
Oh, don't I just believe that I am afflicted... and Lord, do I cry it
11 And in my dismay I said,
"All men are liars."
At this point, the whinging has reached critical volume... but Lo... he has heard me. This begs one question:
12 How can I repay the LORD
for all his goodness to me?
What favour can I do that will repay this, what gift can I give?
13 I will lift up the cup of salvation
and call on the name of the LORD.
14 I will fulfill my vows to the LORD
in the presence of all his people.
Wow... that seems to fit the bill completely. Not that I will sacrifice bulls and goats, but that I will show my gratitude always and in front of all people.
15 Precious in the sight of the LORD
is the death of his saints.
He saw my pain and he valued it. He saw my suffering and it mattered to him.
16 O LORD, truly I am your servant;
I am your servant, the son of your maidservant [c] ;
you have freed me from my chains.
17 I will sacrifice a thank offering to you
and call on the name of the LORD.
You my main man! You need anything, you let me know! An internal swelling of gratitude that eclipses the previous sorrow like moon would eclipse a flashlight.
18 I will fulfill my vows to the LORD
in the presence of all his people,
19 in the courts of the house of the LORD—
in your midst, O Jerusalem.
Praise the LORD. [d]
Just so we're clear, this is my song of great gratitude, my song of great Thanksgiving.
Good news!
I've quit smoking again!
It only took one and half cigarettes this time.
Maybe I just need lots and lots of gum.
It only took one and half cigarettes this time.
Maybe I just need lots and lots of gum.
2.4.08
The prayer of the drunk
dear god
help me to remember what I remember when I am drunk
help me to remember to forget what I forget when I am drunk
help me to be who I am when I'm drunk
When I'm sober.
help me to remember what I remember when I am drunk
help me to remember to forget what I forget when I am drunk
help me to be who I am when I'm drunk
When I'm sober.
1.4.08
The Newcomer changes his mind
The Newcomer had a meeting with the bank on the island last night, and a friend, who works there, filled me in.
The Newcomer, worried about his mainland problems, has chosen not to move to the Island. He will continue to visit, but seeks only to stay in beachside hotels while he is here.
As I write those words I grow very angry.
I have moved here, given up all mainland aspirations, moved off the beach and into the inland areas. I no longer am greeted by the sun every morning when I rise, as he is. I am no longer bathed by the night winds while I sleep as he is.
Now, be it true, he does return to the mainland often, and there he can only see the island through his telescope, while I am surrounded always by its beauty.
Living inland is no great hurdle. I can walk when I like (during public hours) to the beach-head or the marina and fish... I can go to the glade every day if I choose and rest there.
But I envy him for the superficial beauty he gets to experience. He pays no taxes, he never shovels mud from the streets after a big rain, he never feels the frost of the wind as it howls down from the mountains. If he does, he can return to the mainland at his whim, returning to the island when the weather is better.
I call him weak, and I call him coward
The Newcomer, worried about his mainland problems, has chosen not to move to the Island. He will continue to visit, but seeks only to stay in beachside hotels while he is here.
As I write those words I grow very angry.
I have moved here, given up all mainland aspirations, moved off the beach and into the inland areas. I no longer am greeted by the sun every morning when I rise, as he is. I am no longer bathed by the night winds while I sleep as he is.
Now, be it true, he does return to the mainland often, and there he can only see the island through his telescope, while I am surrounded always by its beauty.
Living inland is no great hurdle. I can walk when I like (during public hours) to the beach-head or the marina and fish... I can go to the glade every day if I choose and rest there.
But I envy him for the superficial beauty he gets to experience. He pays no taxes, he never shovels mud from the streets after a big rain, he never feels the frost of the wind as it howls down from the mountains. If he does, he can return to the mainland at his whim, returning to the island when the weather is better.
I call him weak, and I call him coward
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