The Dependent Dance of the Archetypes...the dark blunt belligerent Father, the vicious pernickety Mother...the man representing men, the woman representing women...both totally dependent on the remarkable weakness of the other to even contest the election...having both destroyed everyone better from their own parties just to be the only contenders...both deeply corrupted by their free choice...in their own deep dark ways; both of them so old...neither of them a shadow on what they used to be = America. Carl Jung would love this. He wrote them. So dependent, America, divided, neither Trump nor Clinton will survive the failure of the other. The dance ends.
John Fitzpatrick. About New China, the Koreas, Myanmar, Thailand, and also about Japanese and Chinese writers and poets. The main emphasis is on North Asia and the political tectonics of this very important, powerful, and many-peopled area.
Wednesday, 9 November 2016
The Dependent Dance of the Archetypes...the dark blunt belligerent Father, the vicious pernickety Mother...the man representing men, the woman representing women...both totally dependent on the remarkable weakness of the other to even contest the election...having both destroyed everyone better from their own parties just to be the only contenders...both deeply corrupted by their free choice...in their own deep dark ways; both of them so old...neither of them a shadow on what they used to be = America. Carl Jung would love this. He wrote them. So dependent, America, divided, neither Trump nor Clinton will survive the failure of the other.
Love from Here/America
The remarkable thing about the American Presidential Elections is, for me, that the run up to them HAS actually been interesting TO ME...as a complete foreigner...this is the first time in my life that this has ever happened...and does represent the power of reality television. I don't actually know any Americans personally at all...but I wish them well and I'm sure the Americans and the Americanese will do the best they can with what they are and what they have...good luck...and thank you for the fascinating entertainment.
I think that Hillary Clinton will win, and if I was a Betting Being, I would bet on that. I don't bet on things. I've just been truly fascinated by the machinations...and it makes for good television...which i think is what America actually is in the real world and the real politics of push and shove. In 2016 America left that real world fold and entered the realm of reality television, as a whole nation, and not a healthy or growing or important one...and they left by democratic choice.
I think that Hillary Clinton will win, and if I was a Betting Being, I would bet on that. I don't bet on things. I've just been truly fascinated by the machinations...and it makes for good television...which i think is what America actually is in the real world and the real politics of push and shove. In 2016 America left that real world fold and entered the realm of reality television, as a whole nation, and not a healthy or growing or important one...and they left by democratic choice.
Thinking of the 3000km Drive to Melbourne in the Nissan Navara 4x4 Mahayana Diamond Vehicle...rather than getting OCD about the Thousands of Ridiculous Essential Impossible Details I have to deal with quickly...here and now...damn you Zen! May your youngest monks set fire to themselves in hell! Twice! It looks like we'll be heading off from old Cairns by the 20th December...I'll tell work 2 weeks before, being equally fair to them after all the years. I know there will be a 3-6 month period of official state and provincial, corporate, and personal mourning, but those North Queenslanders, palliative care specialist clinicians, and mental health nurses need to just man-up and face that. They need to process the fact that that One Special Being who, 25 years ago, brought Palliative Care to Queensland and the Deep Dark North of it, when it was all so primitive and sick...and it was; That One Nice Guy who planned, sustainably funded and established the Gordonvale Hospice... under the vicious attacks of primitive twat-witted dick-head fucknuckle-dragging recalcitrant retard-cunt Cairns locals and bureaucratic Brisbane turds...has gone beyond it all... ...that One Man who contributed so much to the mental health and well being of Everyone...and even Feral Cats...yet never truly suffered from Northern Sanity himself...has gone beyond the Dark Veil of the North... Even before I go...sigh...I understand and respect the personal, communal, collective and social grief to come...the tears, the fears...oh, the years... The sad silence and the true darkness after the fireworks, The Momentum of The One...passing... ...The soft wet full lipped kiss goodbye, the eclectic bodies unjoining, in perfect spasms, after the warm fluid tantric dance of souls... ...the tender branch still trembling after the bird has flown...sigh. Life on Earth...un-finishing in perfect detail... The 25 years I've lived in Cairns have been great, each and every one of them, apart from the awful shocking horrible years... anyway, good luck, god bless, and best wishes...and... Man-up you bunch of babies....and do try to really look after yourselves and each other, even just for a fucking change.
Thinking of the 3000km Drive to Melbourne in the Nissan Navara 4x4 Mahayana Diamond Vehicle...rather than getting OCD about the Thousands of Ridiculous Essential Impossible Details I have to deal with quickly...here and now...damn you Zen! May your youngest monks set fire to themselves in hell! Twice!
It looks like we'll be heading off from old Cairns by the 20th December...I'll tell work 2 weeks before, being equally fair to them after all the years.
I know there will be a 3-6 month period of official state and provincial, corporate, and personal mourning, but those North Queenslanders, palliative care specialist clinicians, and mental health nurses need to just man-up and face that.
They need to process the fact that that One Special Being who, 25 years ago, brought Palliative Care to Queensland and the Deep Dark North of it, when it was all so primitive and sick...and it was;
That One Nice Guy who planned, sustainably funded and established the Gordonvale Hospice... under the vicious attacks of primitive twat-witted dick-head fucknuckle-dragging recalcitrant retard-cunt Cairns locals and bureaucratic Brisbane turds...has gone beyond it all...
...that One Man who contributed so much to the mental health and well being of Everyone...and even Feral Cats...yet never truly suffered from Northern Sanity himself...has gone beyond the Dark Veil of the North...
Even before I go...sigh...I understand and respect the personal, communal, collective and social grief to come...the tears, the fears...oh, the years...
The sad silence and the true darkness after the fireworks, The Momentum of The One...passing...
...The soft wet full lipped kiss goodbye, the eclectic bodies unjoining, in perfect spasms, after the warm fluid tantric dance of souls...
...the tender branch still trembling after the bird has flown...sigh.
Life on Earth...un-finishing in perfect detail...
The 25 years I've lived in Cairns have been great, each and every one of them, apart from the awful shocking horrible years...
anyway, good luck, god bless, and best wishes...and...
Man-up you bunch of babies....and do try to really look after yourselves and each other, even just for a fucking change.
Talking with colleague tonight who suggested I should do a course in Acting as my colleague felt I would be good at that. I was charmed. I sighed, and went into a period of reflection...coming out of it saying, 'no, no, I don't think I could do that again...' It's been some time since I considered Acting. I recall, last time, when I was trying to find a sad torn character within myself, the director of the Acting School suggested I recall some very tragic event, the torturous and horrific death of a pet etc, to bring out my full emotion...but...as I never had a pet, I wasn't sure what to do... so... I bought a whole bunch of puppies... and...with a salami, 6 steel tent pegs, a hammer-drill, and a cheese grater... slowly... one by one...
Talking with colleague tonight who suggested I should do a course in Acting as my colleague felt I would be good at that. I was charmed. I sighed, and went into a period of reflection...coming out of it saying, 'no, no, I don't think I could do that again...'
It's been some time since I considered Acting.
I recall, last time, when I was trying to find a sad torn character within myself, the director of the Acting School suggested I recall some very tragic event, the torturous and horrific death of a pet etc, to bring out my full emotion...but...as I never had a pet, I wasn't sure what to do...
so...
I bought a whole bunch of puppies...
and...with a salami, 6 steel tent pegs, a hammer-drill, and a cheese grater...
slowly...
one by one...
It's been some time since I considered Acting.
I recall, last time, when I was trying to find a sad torn character within myself, the director of the Acting School suggested I recall some very tragic event, the torturous and horrific death of a pet etc, to bring out my full emotion...but...as I never had a pet, I wasn't sure what to do...
so...
I bought a whole bunch of puppies...
and...with a salami, 6 steel tent pegs, a hammer-drill, and a cheese grater...
slowly...
one by one...
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