Berlin

Speaking of metaphors of reinvention, to Berlin.

Land there on Saint Patrick's Day, casting out the snakes in me pants.

Will be searching for runes amidst the ruin of ruins rebuilt.

The Mothers of (Re)invention

The grace is this: I am forced to reinvent myself. All those Gaulloise-smoking existentialists merely talk of creating themselves; this is life. Life.

This "joblessnessness" makes me:

• define "work"
• label myself with new tags
• surrender
• accept
• ferret out possibility
• expect surprise
• welcome change
• create opportunity
• insert verbs
• shake hands with gerunds
• dangle participles
• delight in expletives
• pronounce ejaculations
• foment accord in tune with discord
• denounce resentment
• nurture gratitude

Such is The Proletarian Litany of Lost and Found Dreams.

The Albatross of Unemployment

I will view joblessness as a mere pause, a station, a bahnhof, along the way to a more gleaming opportunity, a more fulfilling role, a diverse-destination portfolio of skills delivered but -- this time -- received with more appreciation, as opposed to the view of joblessness that many hold: an albatross of despair and loss and grief; a view I will not ignore, taking the opportunity to feel such anguish but not be vanquished by it, affording myself the chance to practice compassion and understanding, such as understanding Can Man, who wheels his shopping cart around Tipperary Hill, ferreting out discarded bottles and cans for their return value, and who shines with wonder when someone stops, gets out of the car, and surprises him with a crumpled dollar bill proffered in the icy wind.

Albatross Airways

This tops 'em all:

An airline to evacuate just you

and yours beyond the fray:

A community of the few

the proud

the elect.

The Ultimate Albatross.

The Albatross of Solipsism,

transporting you out of the hurricane of commonality.

Commonweal? An archaic word long ago expunged from the flight manual.

The Lap of Luxury

The problem with the looming recession will be that haves will figure they have less to dispense with, and the have-nots will have even less, in the process having more of have-not-ness.

And I comfortably sit typing on a computer keyboard, the biggest hypocrite of all.

I tap away while sitting in the lap of relative luxury (compared to many), but not at a laptop.

Peace

So simple.

So elusive.

Peace.

The pulse of prayer

the current of flesh

circuiting 

 

Uber-Wealthy Word Economy

Arianna Huffington and others have aptly remarked on the fact that our growing cadre of billionaires face rising challenges when it comes to gifts. Well, let's clarify that. There's no end to the possibilities of their giving (and I seriously and sincerely laud the work of the Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation).

What to get you favorite billionaire?

Hmmm. As noted in The Wall Street Journal: A Triton submarine? Jewels? flashy cars?

How about a commissioned biography for $30,000?

Presumably, said bio would praise its subject lavishly.

There's a more economical yet spiritually enhancing (as well as more capitalistic, for me at least) alternative:

I hereby present this special billionaire's offer:

Haiku for You.

A bargain at $1,700 apiece.

A hundred bucks per syllable.

(But think of all the free enlightement!)