". . . 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

Sunday, October 14, 2012

Laughing At Self Wakes Self

There is nothing more immediately tedious than reading accounts of dreams. Even dream sequences in books, films and television send me into a state of vexation. Lazy writing, vexed self screams! Lack of thinking, self screams.

This one is so very silly it might pass -- here I go, accounting one of my own dreams.

Location: Louisiana

Self: My own self, but different

Narrative: My poor self gets cruised by a corporate pooba to infiltrate a long-time established state corporation currently extending its pillaging, plundering, pollution and destruction of state's natural resources, including the wetlands and the Gulf waters. The recruiting corp isn't wanting to stop these activities by this particular local rival, it just wants to spy upon it in order to pillage, plunder, pollute and destroy more effectively and more quickly than its more established rival. I have been threatened with financial harrassment and punishment if I don't accept this corp's assignment.

I am dressed in contemporary highly effective female executive fashion. My skills in reading and writing financial statements, insurance policies, running an office and so on are tested and I come up aces (see, my own self, but different).

But there is one other thing. The recruiter asks: "How are your skills with progressive competitive swimming?"

I respond, "What the eff are you talking about? Never heard of such a thing."

Recruiter gets huffy and threatening: "It's the favorite sport of all poobas. You must be able to join in the sport during social occasions, and do it competitively."

I respond: "Maybe up north where you come from, where you have summer vacation homes in pristine wilderness, preserved by northern progressive politicians like Theodore Roosevelt and FDR, but down here the corps have done such a good job that our water sports are all performed on top of the water in boats, not in it. Just like you are used to having a social safety net and public education. But down here we have Bobby Jindal. This is why you will fail in your mission to own Louisiana."

This was so frackin' preposterous, and my delight in spouting so many unlikely multi-syllable words (The-o-dore Roo-se-velt; pro-gress-ive!) in succession, while dreaming, made me laugh so hard I woke myself up.

No comments: