Wednesday, May 04, 2011

Umbrellas Unopent in Tempests, Part XXXVIII

Itwethey had never met an apostle or acolyte of “openness” who was what Itwethey would consider disadvantaged, either materially through poverty or materially through suffering of some kind, for example through illness or accident disabled. Itwethey had met apostles and acolytes who had messed up very, very badly the hand they’d been dealt at birth, but this is different, Itwethey thinks. Itwethey notes the frequency with which the apostles and acolytes identify with the disadvantaged ( and here Itwethey will re-emphasize that “to identify” is red-flagged as severest hazard—and will be doubled back on to examine more closely, and with a little luck, to be critiqued, in the context in which it arises, fully.) Itwethey suspicions a desire for victimization and sees this as further evidence of “openness” being a very mysterious or misguided strategy for guilt.

The apostles and acolytes of “openness” suspicion their material advantages are not earned or deserved; the material disadvantage of the world’s multitude of victims is not earned or deserved; importantly, the apostles and acolytes of “openness” ruthlessly reject the ideological justifications of those with material advantage who thereby affirm the advantage as earned and deserved while also affirming the world’s multitude of victims earn and deserve that, too. (Except for the kids: there’s a new crop each year, and some are growing older; innocence is shed at puberty and that’s the moment also of earning and deserving one’s disadvantage. Also a deep suspicion puberty is much better, “down there.”)

Apostles and acolytes of “openness” can join the disadvantaged, can leave the world of advantage, as a tourist in the world of disadvantage, for the enriching experience. This is what they are “open” to. What annoys Itwethey so much is that after that taste of disadvantage, they can call it off and then retreat to comfort, there to recount the richness and wisdom, or write a poem, or perhaps rhapsodize about the resourcefulness, creativity and humanity of the poor, or whatever, but what makes suffering suffering and much worse than a “change of pace” or a kind of palate refresher between courses, or a more somber shade for the palette, is precisely when it can’t be called off, when one can’t get a “break” from it, a little time off to collect oneself; it isn’t voluntary. The face is smashed down into it, down into the mud and the shit, and that hurts and does the complexion not the slightest bit of good, let alone the nose and front teeth. You don’t slip into it and out of it, and you suspicion you’ll maybe never slip out of it, though maybe you can’t lose hope you will. “Wait while I-I-I slip into something a little more comfortable,” funny when that means the borders of the USA.

It also seems to Itwethey that in this sense, the nudity, along with the “openness” is a luxury commodity. Don’t remember any victims who weren’t chaste.


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