Archive for January 18th, 2012

If you want to know what is like in a bar I am the man for you. I have been to Soho London where night life begins pretty early. Always I find fortified with Alcohol not even a pole dancer is a problem. They do their routine while my grey matter is reeling round corpus callosum a watusi. A drinker gets what he wants, bottoms up I mean.
Watusi! Ah it brings memory when I drank under the night sky in the open. I remember that night I had a lion, a stray cat I believe, and it came almost close while the ice in my glass clanked in fright. I looked at the lion and stared him of course the smell of whisky said, shoo! shoo! in a lingo something a lion has nose for. The thing is I am not one to blink easily, except when I was in Joe’s Bar.
While drinking I wanted to take a leak and I went to men’s room and while I stood there holding my own in the crowded john, I felt I was crowded out by strangers whose total liquor must have been pretty awesome. They were letting it all splash out! Imagine I just could not pee! They were doing their own and I was following the universal law,’when you got to go you gotta head towards the john.’It didn’t work that night.
There was no lion but just me and my own need.
That was the last I took a leak at the Joe’s Bar.

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Captain Francesco Schettino went to the sea having heard the call ‘join the Navy and see the world.’ He did not bargain for perils at sea or the duties of the host at whose table he had to perform the role of a hardbitten sea dog,- for women love anything in uniform and he was larger than life outdrinking all. During any sea voyage passengers will feel pride to be invited to the Captain’s table and eat. The captain made them all wonder at his stomach for drink and tall tales. Only when he was asked to perform a simple task of steering past the rocks trouble erupted. Like Conrad’s Lord Jim he failed his peers, crew, passengers and himself. In a way I pity him. Even if he escapes prison he will have hell of a job to make good of this single act of behaving like a poltroon.
It is hell of an act to top the other and live at peace with himself for the rest of his life.
Italy as recent events would show is seen like an opera buffa to which Sylvio Berlusconi will be seen in history as the godfather. Captain Francesco Schettino is a natural heir to his legacy.

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Make Love and Not War

The Hare was beginning to be a celebrity. He spoke on all subjects and soon word went out that he would be addressing a mass rally. The date and the venue were given out beforehand.
The venue was a dustbowl that could hold some thousands. On the day he had chosen the subject : Constancy in Love.
All the tumbling weeds of the land had gravitated to the spot to hear the mighty words of Mr. Hare.He was pleased at this.

He began warming up on the theme of love. The tumbling weeds in the front were rapt in attention.He spoke of being steadfast. His audience nodded vigorously. He could not believe they were soon rolling excitedly and pushing against the crowd at the back. Halfway through he lost his audience who were all airborne. The sponsors were sure his speech was perfect. Pulling out a wad of notes they said, ‘Take the balance due to you. Wonderful delivery and love must be wonderful. Ahem.’ With that they left. Only Mr. Hare and his manager were left. Mr. Hare asked somewhat uneasy if he spoke well above the heads of the audience. His manager, a weasel was sure,’ Hurricane Sue ,when she passes needs no words. She sure carries her audience with her. All the way.’
Later when Mr. Hare announced the topic he insisted it was ‘Peaceful Co-existence. As usual Mr. Weasel made the hall ready.
On seeing porcupines, hairy beasts, creepies and crawlies filing in he sighed. He advised in a whisper not to show their appreciation by crowding around the speaker.
Later during a harangue to the Heavyweights he chose the topic. ‘A World without War.’
Lions who were among the audience stopped Mr. Hare in the middle of the speech to say, ‘Had you spoken from experience you would have convinced us.’ Mr. Musk Ox stood up to add, ‘What do you know of head butting?

That was a cue for the assembled animals to leave the hall.
Moral: virtual knowledge that one acquires from Internet will not cut an onion. But tears that one feels at the cutting-board are real.

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