OMG! OMG!! Has a week already elapsed? Is today almost Saturday? Again? Is it time for that weekly digest? Inquiring minds, including your Bloguero’s, want to know whether there was anything posted this week at the Dream Antilles for which your Bloguero is willing to take public responsibility.
It was a complicated week, one beyond facile description. Perhaps beyond comprehension. And the writing? What writing? The writing at The Dream Antilles? That is best described by this rising and then descending sound: “Harrrrrrrrrrgh.” Yes, your Bloguero confirms, as you may already have guessed, that to his dismay, your Bloguero’s muse apparently went fishing. Again. This time for brown trout. Her present whereabouts are undetermined. And your Bloguero hasn’t heard from her. She was last seen wading thigh deep in a rushing stream during a rain storm. She was wearing a hat that looked like Indiana Jones’s and rain was dripping off the brim. Your Bloguero briefly contemplated putting an ad up for her return (with a generous reward) on Craigslist, rejected that idea and then more characteristically began to sulk. And mope. Whining will probably be next. These unattractive behaviors threaten to abound. Until she returns. And your Bloguero elects now to veil these unattractive behaviors from your view with an imaginary curtain. There. On with the task at hand.
The Elephant. (Parenthetical Note to reader: Quite a transition wasn’t that? (Parenthetical Note to reader to the previous Parenthetical Note: Your Bloguero misses the writing of David Foster Wallace.)) A short piece inspired in some fashion by writing by Macedonio in Museo de la Novela de Eterna, and with a must see video of a swimming elephant. One reader (perhaps, in candor, this should read, “the reader”) inquired if the elephant was happy when, after swimming, she returned to land. Your Bloguero noted with great comfort that the guy in the red hat in the video is Jacques Cousteau, and that, therefore, no animals’ feelings were hurt in any way in the making of this video. (Parenthetical Note to reader: This is a professional elephant. Do not try this at home with amateur elephants. Or faux oceans.)
Death Of A Mass Murderer notes the killing of OBL and your Bloguero’s disappointment at the chanting, the partying, the cheering, the celebration of death. Your Bloguero quotes extensively from a piece written by Rabbi Arthur Waskow that captures your Bloguero’s feelings. The Bible, your Bloguero notes, is really useful here because among other things it is a repository for the Mythic. The rejoicing of the Israelites at the death of their Pharaoh seemed to fit this event.
One other comment about the death of OBL. Your Bloguero is alarmed at the repeated euphemistic use of the verb “got” to describe this event. As in “we got him.” This is not “got milk?” This is not, as GWB uttered about Sadam H, “We got him,” meaning that he had been captured by troops and imprisoned. This is a different “got.” It’s now apparently a euphemistic synonym for killed. It resembles in some ways that age old junior high school taunt, “I’m going to get you for that!” Other verbs for the salient part of the event, which are probably more descriptive and at least as accurate as “got,” might be “shot” or “killed” or “executed” or even “murdered.” If killing OBL was such a wonderful event, and evidently it is claimed to have been one, doesn’t it deserve to be called by its real name? Not just by Obama, but also by the Trad Media? Or is the use of “got” as the operable verb in this case chosen because it most resembles what imaginary TV cowboys might say and prolongs one’s feelings of justifiable revenge?
Finally, your Bloguero notes the passing of Ernesto Sabato a giant of Argentinian writing.
Your bloguero notes that this Digest is a weekly feature. Your Bloguero tries to post this Digest on Saturday morning early. He almost never succeeds in that. But this week, to his utter amazement, he almost did. Your bloguero will be back next week, hopefully on Saturday morning early
if his Muse returns.