". . . But the past does not exist independently from the present. Indeed, the past is only past because there is a present, just as I can point to something over there only because I am here. But nothing is inherently over there or here. In that sense, the past has no content. The past -- or more accurately, pastness -- is a position. Thus, in no way can we identify the past as past." p. 15

". . . But we may want to keep in mind that deeds and words are not as distinguishable as often we presume. History does not belong only to its narrators, professional or amateur. While some of us debate what history is or was, others take it into their own hands." p. 153

Silencing the Past: Power and the Production of History (1995) by Michel-Rolph Trouillot

Saturday, October 3, 2009

O. You Are Still Here?

Meet Her Felineness, Mz Minneola Kitty-Kat Fluffy Tail Noir.

TR's long time feline companion had passed on, so in January of 2005, he went to the shelter and found her.  We had met each other on several occasions previous to staying so many days in her house.

After the Katrina hurricane and flood she spent 18 days alone in the house. Like so many New Orleanians, TR expected to be gone no longer than 3 days. Fortunately, some angel prompted him to turn back at the door, just as he was leaving, to tear off a corner of a bag of catfood, "just in case." When he got back, as soon as he was able, there wasn't a crumb left in that small bag. She'd even tried to eat some paper off the toilet roll. She drank the water in the toilet bowls -- fortunately there are two toilets in the house. She was skin and bones, and very happy to see TR. No playing the usual coquettish games of come-and-get-me, I'm hard to get. Not at all.

She's remarkably calm and non-skittish for having had such an experience. However, as August progresses and August 29th rolls down, she gets progressively anxious, and very clingy of TR. She can't stand to have him leave the house. She was coming out of that annual trauma recollection this last week that we stayed there. She even managed to sit on my lap for a minute, until my cell rang, which offended her Felineness muchly, so she wasn't going to make that mistake again.

She appears to have a rich inner life, as well as many inner resources. She's a self-centered being, even more than a coquette. She reminds us of quite a few people we know. We are off their radar, until they enter the space in which they expect and desire admiration. We, then, are expected and required to provide the admiration. Once their appetite has been duly sated, for now, we are dispensed with, until the need resurrects. This can be, as with Minneola, several times a day, or as with some others we know, only once or twice a year, when they have out new work -- yes, dear. review and admire it publicly, in public spaces, as many as possible, with interviews, reviews and articles praising the work's splendid qualities, the greater marvel that is the creator. Minneola, of course, wouldn't sully her paws with creating anything. She provides all we need merely by Being, that she allows us an occasional opportunity to admire her splendid fluffy flag of a high-pole tail. She amused me, and I provided her with moments of disdainful entertainment, such as working out. She indicated her intense superiority to such shenanigans -- she merely races up and down teh staircase several times a day.  However, she stayed and watched through the entire production.

In other words she and I suited very well.

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