More Than True

Books

Love, Rejected (from the book “Tragic Stories Disguised as Jokes”)

March 29, 2015 Books Links My books Writing

My petition for love was denied by the central authority which handles such petitions.
It used to be that these standard rejections came by certified mail and were printed in ornate script on fine paper. Today they all come by text message. Still, they carry with them the same tradition. They are summary rejections. And they are form letters.

If someone were to travel forward from 100 years in the past they would recognize them immediately. “That is a standard rejection of a petition for love, sent by the bureau which handles such,” they would say. But then they would add, “Where is the ornate script and fine paper?” And they would look sad. Because 100 years ago we were a more tactile people appreciative of ornate flourishes. Even if there was, as today, a shortage of love.
A traveler from 500 years earlier would not recognize either rejection. Modern love had not yet been invented. It is a bittersweet fact.

At least in the electronic age one need not stand in the terrible lines at the petition office. As early as a decade ago people still had to queue up in line for hours to qualify for the chance at rejection. People did this, as today, for the slim hope that their petition would be granted.

The form rejection lists a reason. The reason is never revealed outright but instead a reference is made to a number. The number corresponds to a large reference which holds all the reasons rejection may be made. There are 100 volumes in question. The reasons for rejection are, some say, innumerable, but in reality they mostly break down to endless variations on three reasons which no one likes to discuss. Most people do not bother to look up the reference number listed in their rejection.
Mine was V.21.12.91. “Rejected for tendency to look up and contemplate facts and figures.”

We all know people whose petitions for love have been, or seem to have been, granted. It is commonly thought that some petitions are granted only to make the system seem viable. In fact, these successful petitions have a high failure rate. There is a complaint bureau. It is housed on the top floor of the tallest building in the world. There is no elevator. When you arrive at the single window you find it empty with a sign which says: “No Returns.”

There has always been a shortage of love and that is why a system of rationing has been set up. To preserve love by careful denial.
The truth is there has been no new love manufactured since 1992. All the love in the world is used. And second-hand love has a resale value which can only be classified as pitiful.

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Saturday afternoon on the street, a true story

March 2, 2015 Info Links Personal Writing

Walk down the street. The man in front of you is disheveled and has wild hair. He speaks to himself, sometimes a mumble. Sometimes alternating volume. Sometimes abruptly stopping mid-sentence to wait a moment and start a seemingly unrelated sentence.

Then he says, loud and clear: “Just Kill them yourself. It’s easy.”
Then he mumbles something.
He crosses the street.
There is a man on the corner sitting on the sidewalk with a begging sign.
The disheveled man says, “Hi, Frank.”
The man on the corner says, “Hi, Ned.”

The walking man walks on down the block, talking.

Reagan’s Legacy: Homelessness in America

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Representations of Muhammad [for Charlie Hebdo]

January 7, 2015 Books My books Personal Writing

in, out, and about the box [for Charlie Hebdo]

If a cartoonist draws Muhammad, he or she invariably will frame that drawing between four straight lines, a graphic representation of a box. Herein lies a problem: Nobody puts Muhammad in a box.

The Muhammad in a Box was a toy popular in the fifties. You turned the crank and it played a tune. But Muhammad never popped out. Angry parents would take the toy to the manufacturer and complain. The manufacturer invariably told them that Muhammad does not “pop out.” Such would be unseemly.

Some asked if Muhammad was really in the box. Here the manufacturer had to be clever. He said that Muhammad was, in fact, simultaneously in the box and not in the box at the same time. Possibly with, or without, a cat. “Is he or isn’t he?” they would ask. And he would reply “It depends on whether you want him to be. Do you want him to be? Are you looking? What are your expectations? Would you know him if you saw him? Would you know him from Jack? Perhaps you and your questioning are really the issue here.”

In this way, while there was never a no-return policy, the lack of returns was assured.
Sometimes people would journey to the manufacturer and ask, “If Muhammad is in the box, what is he doing in there?” and associated questions like, “How did he come to be in the box, if that is where he is?” and “Is there possibly anyone else in there?” sometimes followed by “and how do they get along?” Occasionally a traveler looking for answers would become clever and ask, “Are we even talking about the same Muhammad? It is a very common name.”

The manufacturer would say, “No one knows” “It is matter for the scholars” “How is it any of your business?” “With the utmost hospitality, as is the custom” and “Look in your own heart.”

The fast food outlet Muhammad in the Box makes the best falafel, granted the locations are difficult to find. They neither advertise or have a logo. But their falafel is the best, or at least that’s what they keep telling me.
——
From the upcoming book Tragic Stories Disguised as Jokes by David Raffin
***

And also an excerpt from Viva Chapeau
from the book Rhyme or Treason (the hard fought illusion of choice) by David Raffin :

Now, Islam is the youngest of the three faiths descended from Judaism.
Muslims pray on a schedule five times a day. Five Times. I am amazed you can get any suicide killings planned and carried out on that kind of a schedule.

In this country a lot of people believe “Moslem” is synonymous with “terrorist.”
This is probably unfair. Like all the Jews who don’t run people over with bulldozers, and all the Christians who don’t torture people, there are all those Moslems who defy categorization by not blowing anything up. In mathematics there is a phrase for all of these people in all three groups: they are individuals who fall outside the standard deviation.

It should be pointed out that men wearing turbans are more than likely not Moslems but Sikhs. I have nothing disparaging to say about the turban. The turban is a perfectly fine piece of headgear. In fact, I like to think the turban is a great mystery box that may hold many fascinating things.

In the 1970s, in the Saturday morning cartoon starring the Harlem Globetrotters, there was a character (“Sweet Lou” Dunbar) who could at any point reach into his giant Afro and pull out whatever was needed. I like to think this about the turban.
It may not be true, but that has never stopped the propagation of any belief.

Let me give it to you straight

December 30, 2014 Writing

The artificial dividing line between artificially drawn time segments is nigh.
“Neigh!” said the horse, who was a well-known neigh-sayer.
And that is the news. Straight from the horse’s mouth.

Why a Dog Barks, a poem

December 5, 2014 Books My books Writing

When a dog hears another dog it responds with a hearty round of reciprocal barking.
This is an unbroken chain, as long as there is a dog to answer the call and response.
It is akin to the human game of telephone.
One message is passed on continuously, dog to dog to dog.
The message starts in China, like the flu.
In the fall one dog barks.
It is heard ’round the world.
It is understood only by dogs.
It is an urgent message, spread urgently.
When it gets to the end, it no longer has any meaning.

Sweat the backstory

November 15, 2014 Info Personal Writing

At night it falls as low as 17°.
The sweater I am wearing comes from near the beach. It was knitted by hand by a lady with MS. She owned a large cat who would sit on the piles of sweaters for sale.
I don’t have stories for all my clothes. Most people are not aware of the backstory of their attire. And they’re not all as nice as that. Best not to ask the origin of my pants.

Object-Subject; or the Subjectivity of Objects and Observations

November 14, 2014 Writing

“I do not care for that man.”
“Why is that?”
“He objectifies women.”
“You mean he turns women into objects?”
“Yes.”
“That’s actually pretty impressive. Can he change objects into women as well, because he would then be a pretty powerful wizard. I can see why people would wish to avoid him.”

The History of Alchemy
Crossing the same stream twice: Held to be impossible.
Turning water into Wine: Purported, failed to be replicated in lab.
Turning Miscellaneous Matter to Gold: Failure. Repeated Failure.
Turning Coal into Diamonds: Successful. Held to a lower worth due to spite.
Turning Objects into Women: Failed. Abject Failure.

I would like to apologize to Alchemists. They have no desire but to enrich themselves, even though the realization of their dream would ultimately devalue gold. But maybe that’s what they want. Maybe they are saying gold is held at too high a value. Those Alchemists are tricky.