Mayday "protest" went without what turned out to be plastic bullets. Found out what it would be like to be forced to stand in a major crossroads, with not very much space, surrounded by police, for a few hours. There was a diaphonous band of photographers, kids looking for a ruck or something to do, socialists and non-committal anti-something unreactionaries who responded best to the chant "we want out". Quite.
Ted Rogers is dead - before the ink on the obituaries had dried, my hand was seizing up in a strange empathetic gesture. No more manual dexterity, for me nor Ted.
Carlos Castaneda and the teachings of Don Juan bring a little perspective into one's life, though the path of the sorcerer seems to be a little committed. If you're getting old, time to start flexing those styles. Probably worth studying first. Check them here.
In a world where death is the hunter, my friend, there is no time for regrets or doubts. There is time only for decisions.
A New Theory of Distraction | The New Yorker -
2 months ago