13,642. RUDIMENTS, pt. 1,183

RUDIMENTS, pt. 1,183

(slow-motion default)

I have led several lives, and 

I still live one of them. Or 

more.  I usually like dogs. 

Things that bother me about 

dogs, however, are: Being kept 

too skinny. I had a friend once 

who had a Doberman, and that 

dog was nearly skeletal, or kept 

nearly skeletal anyway  -  if you

know the sleek and streamlined 

shape of a Doberman Pinscher, 

you can visualize what I am saying. 

This dog, and others too that I have 

seen, was kept nearly - it seemed

to me anyway - emaciated. The

underlying bone structure of 

the creature had more presence

than the creature itself did. The 

owner here would constantly

go to lengths to correct others, 

saying as to how a dog is NOT

supposed to be well fed, or kept 

fat; that the look of that  Doberman 

was the right and the correct look 

and there was nothing amiss  -  '

and perhaps there wasn't, but it 

was an uncomfortable dog to 

see in any case. It went so far 

as to one day, after a long, drunk 

day of Biker party frolic and

wildness  -  all the usual  -  a 

knife fight broke out between

that owner of the Doberman 

and whoever it was who had

last crossed the line of 'one-too 

many cracks' about the 'starving'

dog. (Of course, alcohol had a 

lot to do with all of this). Anyway, 

on that open field, and with the dog

watching, as well as about 60 other 

people, in their own and varied 

states of confusion, alcoholic daze,

pureblind interest and curiosity, 

and wonder too, these two mad 

gents went gravely at it; each 

brandishing some sort of swap-meet 

sabre or 8-inch blade anyway, purloined

for the occasion by some sorry, nearby, 

knife vendor. As it went, it was mostly 

all a pantomime  -  a 'knife-fight

'show' in which, I'd figure, neither 

guy meant to harm the other, for

if he did he would simply have 

done it, at once and quickly. (In 

theater, they always say something

like 'The gun that's introduced in 

Act One must go off by Act Three'.....

of course meaning 'Don't bring it out

unless you mean to use it'). These 

guys ended up looking gravely

foolish and nothing else  -  wobbly, 

dazed, and drunk, barely able rightly 

to stand up, but doing instead some 

very bizarre biker-knife-ballet of 

the most ridiculous proportions. 

Lunge and thrust, fighting but 

the air. Like those boxers in a ring 

who you see doing more clutching

than boxing. The engagement's all 

in their head. (Funny, how I said 

'gravely foolish,' instead of 'bravely 

foolish,' which is only one letter 

away but with desperately changed

meaning).

-

The dog survived, for a ripe old age; 

alas, they're both gone now, owner, 

and dog, but the story lingers on. 

-

I think that 'West Side Story' could 

not have better portrayed the grace 

and roughness of that moment : two

gruff Morandis dancing and swinging 

with a lethal blade each in their hands. 

Any Navy SEAL would have cut down 

the scene to about 15 seconds, and

been done with the other fellow in

an instant, but these guys went on 

and on, oddly circling and swaying, 

with a clutch and a hug. Totally

crazy, and  -  to make it even 

more so  -  those larger, Biker

guys who did eventually step 

forth to break up this scene, added

their own hilarity to it. They were 

sort of, themselves, play-acting at

a bravery where none really existed, 

due to the fact of some weird and 

basic insincerity to the scene itself.

To wit: No one was actually ever 

going to get hurt. No 'bravery'

was actually even needed, just 

more a willingness to take on

the referee role and do it to the 

utmost, eventually (bravely)

disarming these two goons, 

settling a starving-dog argument,

placating a restive crowd more 

and more out for blood as the

minutes ticked by. Refereeing, 

after all, itself bears a certain

quality of dance and ballet, and 

in this mix it added in well

with the aplomb and self-discipline 

needed to avoid that same flailed

blade whose mission was, more 

than likely, 'anyone' rather than 

an opponent. Of which there 

really were none.

-

Mass Hypnosis, hysteria, and 

the madness of crowds. Those

are old nuggets of ideas, written 

about for years and years

before, about the behavior of 

social-crowds and the mass

movements of people and ideas. 

And manipulation as well.

But 'Manipulation' takes a 

stern and conscious hand, riding

with some superiority over the

situation it creates. This had 

none of that; it was all just a 

sloppy mess, headed nowhere

and, already as we watched, in

its own, slow-motion default.