RoseAmbien

I was just about to write an article entitled "Ambien, and how I became a racist", but nah. It's just another marcher in the parade of absurdities that is known as America these days. It's exhausting, really, this constant head shaking, such that many of us have begun to resemble Parkinson's sufferers. No, no! It's not a disease. It's the news! Believe me. 

As far as Ambien goes, although it is sometimes prescribed as part of treatment of MS, in that it will help you sleep in the presence of pain or RLS, for instance, I have not, to my recollection, ever used it. Can't be sure, though. In the last ten years, I've tried a lot of different drugs, most of which have not been particularly effective. Let's see … Avonex, Copaxone, Baclofen, Provigil, Nuvigil, Paxil, Prozac, Neurontin, methylprednisolone, Dexamethasone, Oxycodone, Hydrocodone, Xanax, and … hmm, maybe a handful of others I have forgotten. Xanax, I guess, does the same job Ambien is intended to do, but without the racist side-effects, so I do fine with the Xanax.

And as far as Roseanne Barr goes, I had never seen her re-booted series, and wouldn't have wanted to in any case, as I did not care  for the first one (to put it mildly). The celebration of ignorance and bad attitudes seems to me neither interesting nor funny. Moreover, Roseanne's public persona always struck me as equally creepy to that of Tom Cruise or, well, Donald Trump. 

I see, by the way, that the maker of Ambien has now released a public statement rejecting Ms. Barr's assertions about the drug. Lol. As if ….     

Lost in Translation, Again

I was chatting with Adi at Starbucks this morning. Adi is working on his English and enjoys practicing it with me. We were just kind of randomly talking about this an that when he suddenly asked "Do you love me?" 

"Hah?" 

He repeated the question more slowly. "Do-you-love-me?"

"Do I love you?"

"No, me." 

"Huh?" 

"Ya, you know, da noodle." 

"Oh! Mie! Like Mie ayam, or Mie goreng, or Bakmi. The noodle!" 

Hahahahahaha!

Beach Chairs

I mentioned not long ago a beach in Sanur that is all but deserted except for perhaps 100 lounge chairs. This is where the Bali Hyatt used to be, but the hotel is now being renovated and a long steel wall stands between the beach and the hotel grounds. On the beach itself there are no restaurants nor warungs nor shops, nor even trees, and no people except for those bound for some other place.

So I thought to myself, Gosh, this would be a nice spot to take a swim and lie down on one of these 100 unoccupied chairs. Surely no one would mind.

Turns out that as soon as I took one dip and laid myself down on a chair, a dude shows up and says, "I am sorry to inform you, sir, that you must pay to sit in this chair."

"Oh, gitu."

"Ya."

"But dude, there's not a single fecker on this beach!"

"Eh?"

"Maksudku, Pak, ada serratus kursi tapi hanya satu orang … yaitu saya." (I mean, there are a hundred chairs but only one person--namely me). 

"Ya. No people. But must pay."

"Well, for Christ's sake."

"Eh?"

"So, is it okay if I sit right here on the sand instead, just beside this raggedy ass chair that's been here for at least 8 years?"

"Ya, oke. No pay kalua begitu."

Jeeze.

"By the way, how much must I pay to sit in this chair?"

"Thirty thousand rupiah."

"For how long?"

"We close at 5."

"You close?"

"Yes."

"The beach?"

"Yes."

"And then what?"

"Then … no pay."

Lol.

Memes

Memes are a pet peeve of mine--especially anti-religious memes. You know, those pompous little collections of clichés and platitudes masquerading as truth and wisdom? These are generally intolerant, bitter-seeming declarations which demonstrate most pointedly not the writer's intent, ironically enough, but a woeful absence of intellect and analytical acumen, a laughable ineptitude. Generally, the meme writer (and, by extension, his little army of re-posters on Facebook, Instagram et al) sets his own trap and then eagerly jumps in. 

Why do they post in the first place? I don't know. They seem angry, inclined to act out by belittling and insulting others, although what ends up appearing small and pitiful is the meme writer himself, for he so very clearly knows so very little about the subject he is addressing. 

Here is the particular meme I saw yesterday: 

What struck me instantly about this anti-religious meme is that it echoes, though the author will not have realized this, given his apparent lack of familiarity with scripture, the words of Jesus himself. This same judgment and rejection of the 'religious' powers of his time is seeded throughout the gospels. One need only read Matthew 25. Over and over, Jesus castigates the hypocritical actions and behavior of the ruling religious order, their self-styled representation of a God whom in fact they do not even know. Hate disguised as love? Yes indeed, for it was they, after all, who crucified love. And "fiction parading as fact"? Really? Isn't the meme writer's ignorance really what is on parade here--of the methods and structure of ancient literature, of parable, of numinous mythology, of ages of philosophical tradition? 

Most discussions of God and religion, as contemporary philosopher and theologian David Bennington Hart points out, have not even begun to touch on God and religion. They are superfluous noise, arguing one misapprehension against another while failing to touch meaningfully on the matter at hand.

The unfortunate thing about simple-minded memes is that they cater to lazy, simple-minded readers. In the political realm, we saw this very clearly during the recent American election--and we see now that the Russians understood and used the power of these memes to great effect. Critical thinking and intellectual discipline are being eroded by the ease of the blurb, the disguise of typeface and color and mere presence on the page, as easily consumed as marshmallows. But, of course, if one stuffs enough marshmallows in his mouth at the same time, he will surely choke to death. 

In a Mature Dog's Opinion

The big fat brown dog doesn't always accompany me on my morning walk. Sometimes she's tired. Sometimes she has better things to do. But when she does come along, she always makes the walk more eventful than usual. 

This morning, for instance, she started out by bothering a cow that was in the road. It appeared that the cow was headed toward a more bushy area than remains in her pasture, but the big far brown dog wouldn't get out of her way. The cow would make an attempt to get around her, but the dog continually interdicted the route, such that the cow finally gave up and plodded back to her pasture.

"Big Dog!" I scolded, "why are you bothering that poor cow?"

"Cows are not supposed to be in the road," she answered. "It's as simple as that. The road is for cars, the pasture is for cows." 

Okay then. 

Later on, we came upon a little black puppy who immediately ran over, jumping and wagging and smiling, to greet the big dog. This exuberant greeting was met with several growls and a snap or two of the teeth. As I caught up, however, and reached down to pet the little guy, the brown dog pitched into the puppy, knocking him off his feet and sending him squealing toward safety. 

"Big Dog!" I scolded. "That wasn't very nice. Why did you attack that harmless little puppy?"

"Puppies need to learn," the big dog answered. "Puppies need to grow up. Puppies need to understand that every person and every critter in the world isn't necessarily their friend. They need to exercise reasonable caution. He don't know me from Adam, nor you neither. Who says I'm not gonna bite him in half on the spot? Who says you're not gonna take him home and cook him up for dinner?" 

Hmmm. 

Well, I suppose that dogs may have their own way of viewing things--that what seems aggressive or unkind in a person's mind may be perfectly justified to a dog's way of thinking. Maybe humans, like cows and puppies, could stand to learn a few basics. 

That's how the big fat brown dog sees it, anyway.  

Morning Warm Up

As I exit the house this morning for my morning walk, the little black dog meets me at the gate. He seems to have become a permanent resident of the neighborhood, as I see him around most every day. He tells me each time I see him that he is now living at one house or another--his story changes every day. In any case, he seems happy enough and healthy enough, although he is certainly dusty and grimy, and, this morning, his head is covered with nettles which he has picked up from the bushes somewhere. 

As I start off on the walk, the dog dances along beside me, behind me, in front of me--he's basically everywhere, like a fly that won't go away. I don't really like for the black dog to follow me, for he has no clue whatsoever about the dangers of the street. Every time a car races by (and drivers here seem to know no other way of going by), I cringe at the thought of the black dog getting squished, for he is not at all looking where he is going or where anything else is going.  

Happily, the dog is distracted by something along the way before long and forgets about the walk. Just now, I am passing the field where four dogs live, across the street from the pasture, and they glance at me, raise their eyebrows and shake their heads knowingly. They are apparently already acquainted with the hyperactive caprices of the little black dog. 

I meet the usual people along the way--two men who always smile and say hello, and a young woman who never looks up and never smiles and never says hello. They are all out to maintain their figures--or, like me, to regain what may be called a figure. And then there is the little old woman who goes from house to house looking for little jobs she might do, and there is the woman who is in charge of garbage collection in the neighborhood and always greets me or honks the horn as she passes on her motorbike. 

And then of course there are the cows, who have begun to wander outside their pasture in search of richer pickings, as the grass in the home lot has been chewed down to the quick. Sadly, what they find, often enough, is garbage, and so may be found chewing on a plastic bag or a paper cup as you pass. 

I'm not sure whether the morning walk is really good for me or not, in a physical sense, that is. I can't say that I've noticed any significant weight loss. And I don't know whether it improves or worsens the pain in my back. It does, however, get me started in the morning--fed somehow, wakened, warmed up like an engine in winter, and sets me on my way for the day. 

Resy

Had the pleasure of chatting with Resy this morning--an employee at my local Starbucks who usually works at night (and I usually come in the morning). Resy is a tall, big-hearted, talkative guy, always full of laughter and smiles. He works at night, when the crowd is heaviest, because he is considered the most able, most efficient employee here. Nonetheless, Resy hopes to quit Starbucks soon. The hours are long, especially at night, when there is extra work to be done after closing, and the pay is nothing to shout about--3 million a month (less than 300 dollars). As a comparison, I lead a fairly simple life, with few outside entertainments or expenditures other than the necessities, and struggle to get by on 6 million a month (and usually fail in that struggle, spending more like 7 million a month). I do buy some unnecessary things--Starbucks coffee, for instance, cigarettes, books--but these things hardly make for an extravagant lifestyle. And I do not need to pay monthly rent, for this is paid per year from already existing funds. 

How do they get by on 3 million a month? I don't know. It may be that some come from wealthy families. In fact, I know that some do. So they may receive assistance from their parents. Most live with friends, thus defraying the cost of rent. When they go out for entertainment, this generally means gathering with friends at someone's house or apartment. The tourist nightspots and restaurants are not part of their experience. They are not likely to even recognize the name of a popular spot in Sanur, for the only Indonesians who go to those places are the ones who work there or the girls who have met white boyfriends. 

Ah, but Resy is young and energetic and eager and bound to succeed. And while he does so, he brings sunshine into the lives of others.