Saturday, May 30, 2015

Long Division

Who are you now? and now? and now? There's something to be said for gaining a level of consciousness that can sustain an awareness as moments provoke our various personas. Maybe for me the chances of this happening are roughly equal to the chances of seeing a rainbow. As I clean out the medicine cabinet I see something of an inventory of these ghosts and their projections. There's a can of hairspray that hasn't been used in a decade at least. I vaguely remember the insecurity and complex of fixations experienced by the person that felt the need to buy it, this enormous can of crap that is at least 99% full. I could go on a long time about the flattened, toxic world of living within the complex in which perfection is evidenced in the shape of one's hair or the values of the DOW - as distinct from the Tao - but all I need to say is Hairspray and laugh a long, demonic laugh.

A bottle of children's tylenol brings me back to another kind of terror, a child sick, the precious perfect thing nature somehow made sick with God knows what in the night. I have to control this evil, I turn to liquid tylenol, the concretized masculine that gives me a sense of control over turmoil. Later someone tells me that acetominophine has been proven to be useless. There's an old bottle of calamine lotion.  I'm reminded of exploring the forests near my house in Virginia years ago, somehow I got poison ivy all over my face. My relatives seemed to come to conclusions about how a adolescent girl might get poison ivy all over her face but nothing like that happened. I have absolutely no idea what did happen, I'm just that unconscious. The steroids I took to reduce swelling so I could open my eye better were long ago fully consumed.

Here's something less nightmarish - I bottle of powdered white clay that I've used on bruises, rashes, and for infections. It's like the silt from the Blue Lagoon, where I've never been although I remember other people visiting it. It's calm and strangely understates its pervasive kindness. When you paint clay on yourself, your are in a vastly different state from one who is compelled to apply hairspray. You are over and undergirded by a mineral matrix that intricately, suddenly and compassionately silences the unreal.

1 comment:

Sextant said...

There is something to be said for the placebo effect...oh how easily we goo bags fool ourselves. Case in point, animals don't get poison ivy. No need to, its not toxic. Its not toxic to us either but in an example of reverse placebo, our bodies some how believe that it is.

My wife, son and i were on a picnic in one of local county parks years ago. A couple comes by, an obsequious older gentleman I would estimate in his late 50s and a girl who looked 18 plus or minus 2. He had a rather expensive camera and she had a halter top, a pair of short shorts, and a girl next store smile. They were walking along and every so often would stop and he would make an obvious effort to frame shots with this camera. They walked past us and a few minutes later I see the girl hugging a tree covered with poison ivy while he was shooting her. It was far enough away that I would have had to run to warn them and damage was already done. Somehow I think the poison ivy may have been the lesser of her difficulties.

I take that joint crap, Osteo BioFlex. It has helped immensely with pain in my shoulders, but does nothing for my knees. Of course, some study comes out and rules it worthless. So I quit taking it. The pain in my shoulders came back. So I started taking it again, the pain in my shoulders went away. The stuff is rather pricey, maybe if I just sent the equivalent money to the arthritis foundation, I would still get the effect.

Interesting post. Oh acetominophine is not totally useless. It destroys livers tissue with a vengeance, thus keeping the medical/pharmaceutical industrial complex in good profits.