Wednesday, December 18, 2019

12,393. RUDIMENTS, pt. 904

RUDIMENTS, pt. 904
(Coryland)
As I think back now, I
wonder whatever happened
to tonsils. In my day, every
kid had their tonsils out, and
anyone still with their tonsils,
by 5th grade was a real solid
exception. Up and down my
block, everyone I knew was
tonsil-less. Like the 'appendix'
(what sort of word was that,
used in a literary sense? To
show some sort of added on
extra?), no one knew what 
any of this was for. The 
few renderings I ever got 
of tonsils were quite vague
and without meaning. In
the same way, kind of like
ulcers  - which every proud
and striving businessperson
had or sought to have  -  I
guess no one gets them 
anymore either. Beats me, 
but I do wonder about the
general consensus of things.
It seems like nothing is ever
straightforward and is more 
than half crap. Back when I
was studying Geology, at 
Elmira College, we had this 
crazed professor who went on,
each class, over and over, with
great alarm, about how by 1990
we'd be out of oil and sunk in
deep doo-doo: no fuel for cars,
way-expensive prices, long
gas-lines everywhere. He 
bolstered it all by citing the
programs then in effect  -  
there was a time when certain
cars, depending on odd or even
license plates, alternate days,
or Tues. vs. Weds., could not
purchase gas, and had to wait
for the correctly assigned days;
there were sales limits too. All
that crazy stuff. AIDS was going 
to kill everyone who has sex (?)
eventually, we were doomed, 
ad infinitum. It all got pretty
sickening to me. No mention,
for some reason, was ever made
about too many people, excess
population, killing off the bottom,
depletion and ruination of water 
supplies and reservoirs and their
availability through over-development,
cutting of timber and forest, etc.
No one ever talked about the
threat of an asteroid smashing us
(today's big topic), methane gas,
global warming (today's big topic
also). It was all let to pass, until
those newer items took center
stage. That was mid 70's. Now,
50 years later or whatever, people
still drink fuel like water, fly all
over the globe of their own 
self-serving interests, but yet they
wail and scream about today's hot
topics  -  without knowing any of
the ins and outs and realities.They
all do the same stuff today, but
the topics have changed and they
instill instead a faulty idea now of
Nature' for kids, by monumentalizing
it and teaching it as a museum piece,
since they go on ruining the rest.
Anyone, in any case, with any
true spiritual sensibility and
foundation  -  not just mouthing
it  -  would realize that life is,
in itself, more important than
we are, and it sustains and
recovers and repairs itself, over
a sense of time that surpasses
our feeble lifespans. The sound
and fury WE make can only ever
be destructive. Humankind, at
these levels, has nothing GOOD
it can do. It is incapable of that.
-
We now have epidemics of death,
in different ways  -  terror, bombing,
self-sacrifice in the silly claim of
'martyrdom' for selfish purposes
(express elevator to Paradise?),
drugs and sedatives, angst, what
we are now told is bullying, names
and syndromes with initials, which
need treating and corralling as ills
in order to keep society functioning.
I won't even mention vaccinations.
Who wants to keep society functioning?
Therein is the key question : look
at it carefully. The ones who want to
keep it all functioning are the real
terrorists! the control authorizers who
wish to lord it all over others, while
they defame and belittle. While they
abuse and defend Evil. There was a
certain stupor across the land once,
which at least kept things dull and
tempered. That's gone now  -  all
replaced by a manufactured frenzy
of assault and battering with foul
ideas, sex and gimmickry, isolation
and compartmentalization. A form
of worship at the desk of the Devil.
Stupefaction in Coryland, let's call
it. Wailing for prayer and wailing
for Dad, all mixed together so that
the real destruction is never seen.
-
I knew a boot-black on 23rd street.
I called him that because I liked the
old word. He's probably dead now
over 30 years, and I'd bet he was
buried in his leather apron too. He
wasn't really a boot-black  -  which
is near a term for a shoeshine guy,
which you can  still find around. This 
guy was actually a shoe-maker, with
the Black Cat thing in the front window,
a row of turned-in and left boots and
shoes for cheap sale, in nice shape.
Rows of shoelaces on a rack, a vice
of the sort shoemakers' workbenches
have, the belt sander, the long hammers
for hobnails and heels, the stool and
the bench. It was all of a part of
another world entire, and one that
talked to you, if you let it, and stayed
quiet, and stopped your infernal yap.
The guy didn't say much, but he talked
when asked, and when started. Like
priming a pump, you had to get him
rolling slowly, a bit at a time, until
it caught. In the warmer months,
at the corner by the library at
Fifth Ave., and 42nd, there are
still three or four 'bootblack' stands,
manned by very diligent black guys
always people at their work, with a
few standard-issue business types
with important shoes getting them
done. I often pass, and watch. And
inside Grand Central Station too,
at the Lexington Avenue entryway
corridor, all-weather, indoors, right
near the Joe Coffee stand (used to
be anyway  - they've got another
name now, but I can't remember it),
there also a shoe-shine stand, almost
perfectly traditional and regal, with
the same sort of dignity always going
on. What's weird about these,and what
gives them power and weight, is that
the 'throwback' idea is, in actuality, a
terrible thing  -  using the standards of
subservience and 'bondage' in doing
the bidding of others for pennies;
but it's past all that because these men
give it all a dignity that surpasses
any of these feeble connotations.
It gives a weight, and a quality,
to things that one can never find
in cheap living. The baits and habits
of a Coryland of the Mind are long
put away once a person reaches a
true realization of things, as they
are. Tonsils or not, I'd really be
ashamed of myself to be seen in
 that land's company. Back when I
lived in Columbia Crossroads, in
Pennsylvania, there actually was
(is?) a town/place named
Coryland right nearby. A breeder
there sells English Sheepdogs.
Nice place to visit, but I'd
sure hate to hate to stay.


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