Saturday, July 2, 2016

Cross to Eternity: Feeling the Nature of Being Time

Sydney New Years Eve, 1999
It was midday, June 26th 2016, and I was watching and listening to Malcolm Turnbull deliver a vision of the future, should the politics of humanity’s nervous system deliver a coalition government of the people, for the people, by the people, kinda, sorta. Well! You know what I mean. While strangely, sought of para-whimsically, just as Malcolm said the words “new economy,” I heard a white Cockatoo squawk ‘Wake up!’ Just beyond the window paining to be light, outside this Matthew Talbot hostel for homeless men, in the Sydney harbour side suburb of Woolloomooloo. Rationally speaking though, I did hear the glorious white bird screech, at that precise moment and simply added the wake up interpretation of mother nature’s intention, with my innate imagination. Just as the TV presentation of good vibration politics, involving a well voiced dog whistle call to a rhetoric is reality delusion, played rather loudly, curtsey of channel nine. And I saw with my eyes, a white font ‘breaking news’ proclamation, fashioned upon an appropriate red background, telling transfixed eyes; Turnbull speaks to party faithful. OMG! Have a little faith, Mary, Joseph and Jesus, just a little more faith. - Please!

While sitting beside me a homeless street philosopher’s eyes were mesmerised by the flickering images upon the transparent surface of his new age tablet. And perplexed by the shimmering perspex of superficial images, I gave him a gentle nudge and said, ‘listen, your the really smart device mate, not the machine.’ “Huh! I dunno mate,” he said with gummy half tooth smile, instantly resuming a postural adaptation towards those surface images, attracting his innate interest-excitement. Ah well, winners are grinner’s and losers can please themselves I suppose, I found myself thinking. Just as Malcolm, like Hilary Clinton over there, made his unashamed Brexit pitch to the well suited, well frocked and well booted, middle-class survival agenda of our beautiful Austral-Asia. While as the camera captured scene of applauding faithful, filled the TV screen, Hanna Arendt’s ‘banality of evil,’ phrase arose within this vicarious sense of reality, I’d learned to label my mind. Its the economy stupid, the economy, oh please God, save our mother-loving property prices and maintain the doctrine of denial, still feigning to be human, in this land of unique flora and fauna.