No such thing

Last night was some kind of big fiesta here. There were hardly any tourists but the spanish were out in force, one street had been blocked and lined up with mobile bars(!(never seen that before)) with huge soundsystems on their roofs. The music was coordinated between them, and walking down the street you would hear the same music but going through conceivable sonic mutation.

Ofcourse I got drunk and embarrassed myself deeply -today the shame feels like pain. I will offer no details so as to protect the innocent(me), but needless to say(hah!) I wound up at the center of events and in my alcohol-fueled bravado grabbed the stage. It was larger than life. Also, I must have been the oldest person there. Even the cops on duty to keep the peace felt younger. Now, I look young -despite my age i still gets asked for ID now and then in bars and such, so I suppose they thought I was young. Maybe less than 20, which I´m pretty sure they all were. It was a rather big thing -it was hundreds and hundreds of them.

So post the event I am local celebrity and I get tranquila on the beach(this street was ofcourse next to the beach). So today I´ve stayed indoors till now, for fear of running into some of them. I couldn´t handle that. I am so shy, such events are a major emotional strain on my oh-so sensitive little brain.

So I watched a couple of Hal Hartley films to ease off the pressure. Namely Trust and No such thing. I´ve only recently gotten hold of No such thing, shot in 2001 it comments on our troubled world at war with itself, among many other things.

And surely, how can this *not* be called world war 3?

Nowhere is safe. The bombs can go off absolutely anywhere.

that´s criteria one.

Anything can be used as a weapon.

that´s criteria two.

The conflict is a clash of civilizations.

that´s criteria three.

All sides target civilians.

that´s criteria four.

It is not a clash of nation-states.

that´s criteria five.



And so, why do we persist to support these leaders that obviously hate us?

Like in no such thing when the news-network boss gets busted, and she says:

"this is perfect, just the angle I was looking for, a sort of demonisation-of-the-media thing"

They aren´t human you know, our leaders, on all sides. They´re animals, with nothing but animal instincts to guide them.

Well, now that we have that sorted out. Back to my shame. Damn it. Such a useless emotion, but I guess it´s gonna keep me from sticking my neck out again for awhile. It´s sort of ludicrous too, after all, I am an entertainer. I entertained, what better person than an entertainer to entertain? I can justify it on every logical level, but still... -still...

What else is silly is that if I did it some more, like regularly, I could make a living out of it. Isn´t that what I want? Yes.

But I don´t, ´cause 99% of the time I shut up when the push comes to shove.

"Can anybody do this?"
"Yes, I can." I think to myself, but I don´t speak.

It´s not like I didn´t need encouragement yesterday. I think it was about to happen maybe as much as ten times and I ran away to the bar, before I finally caved. I carry some kind of presence, people notice it, I don´t know what it is; in many ways I am defined by not knowing, I am that which cannot know what it is. And I can´t be told either. If I were to know it would cease to exist, become something else.

I think I´ll stay behind the camera, the mixing desk, whatever kind of machine I use. I just can´t deal with this emotional stress. How many times I´ve wished there was an off-button of the brain, cease all your activities and surrender -shut that neural net down and get down on the floor with your hippocampus disengaged.
Now!

b