9 - Poignant Acts of Hypocrisy on Behalf of The Universe

Friday Night

Hello Lovelies,

I know its been a bit odd trying to keep track of me this year and believe me I’m having just as much of a hard time doing so.

So tonight, in the throes of (not) making a decision about whether to make an impulsive transcontinental shift at the behest of a friend, I had one of those good old self-generated moments of inspirational randomness.

So, the scene, Part 1…

I’m in Los Angeles. Have been for 9 days… Due to stay here for another 9… I’ve been kind of housebound. A bit because of work, a bit more because I tweaked my back a little so no yoga for a few days, another bit more because I kind of like the house I rented, its got a good garden. Filled with birds a-twittering, bullying and flirting with each other as its mating season. And it’s pretty hot so I’ve been lazing (er… working) on the lawn while topping up the tan. But I’ve also been being a bit serious and you know what… a bit bored. Often I think that I need to get a bit bored before I sit down and do some writing so I was sort of hoping that this would start to happen now. And I’d be interested to hear what you think really drives me to scribe these missives! And what stands in the way of me doing more with it. And by THAT i mean really set down the Mountain and Valley Theory.

So… back to the point… a bit bored in LA and also a bit darn down about the state of my heart’s desires. Minimal friends around so I am feeling a bit lonely. And perhaps in a moment of escapist weakness, my dear friend Warwick caught my sensible self a-napping. And while I was suggesting he come to LA he suggested I go to New York… a seed well sown in the fertile bed of my head. Well why not!

2 things possibly. 1) It will cost me more money to do that! A factor a bit important to someone who is not really doing a lot of paid work at present is also touring every continent he can lay a flight onto with trips to South Africa, Mongolia, China, London and back to LA next up. 2) Am I just running from the very place and moment I am in when I might begin to write those things I do really want to write and I kinda do like LA? Hmm… But getting to spend time with Warwick and Patricia in NYC is a very cool option at any moment. Plus the Brian with Spaleytrax Prototype is in town… and why can I not write there? Too many distractions? Perhaps… but where too is the legendary discipline? Oh yes that was in the bathwater with the baby… oops.

Also one of the things in terms of making it worth doing might be to depart as soon as 7am Sunday morning. Now to achieve THAT I need to organise quite a few things round here. It’s a wee bit of a mess.

It is in my nature to try to do everything! Another pattern of mine is to keep my options open. So part of what I need to do tomorrow/Saturday is to stick things in crates and store them at Warwick’s place in LA. And checking on the interneti-spaghetti I find the Bed, Bath and Beyond Home Store in the Beverley Centre Shopping Megalith is still open, so if I rush I can get the crate and be better prepared for tomorrow if I choose to go.

I pile into my small SUV rental and drive on over… counting my money in my head and counting the cost of this alternative expedition to New York. Offsetting less car rental with more airfares and so on. I am concluding that it is about $600... then the position I am in strikes me – blowing $600 on a few days of my life! Let’s say 8 at the most. I find something about this quite sickening.

I’m slowly approaching a red traffic light in the darkening gloom of dusk and ahead of me I see an elderly gentlemen in the road, bent over his cane, closer to cripple and judging by it, homeless to boot. Begging with a paper cup at the corner of Paradise long since paved over with a Parking Lot. He’s 2 lanes into the road and is trying to make it back to shore before the steel tide surges over him at the first glimpse of green. His fragile head is but a foot or so from the cars in front of him…

$600 for my 8 days.

$600.

I shift uncomfortably and continue my slow cruise past him, now precariously beached on the pavement edge.

Phew… unease.

I turn into the Beverley Centre Parking Lot… I feel on one hand that my decision about New York is not about the money. But if I have that kind of cash why not do something more sensible with it? At this stage I already know I am going to go and talk to that man. It’s just what else am I going to do. And in what order will I approach this event. You see Bed Bath and Beyond might close before I get back and then I will not have got my crate and then my options would be more limited. So you see, there are factors present to my mind that is not keeping up with my soul’s compassion.

I put my mission first. I park - I have no choice about THAT. To get back out to him I have to go through the very store I need to be in to make my purchase. I go into the store. The security guard, a young lady greets me in that fabulous American friendly fashion, not wanting anything, just wishing me well. Once inside I am perfectly efficient, I disregard all the unnecessary things I am normally drawn to. Jugs, bowls, and breadboards – I love a breadboard. I ask the first assistant I see where I can buy the crate and do simply and only that. Well, also exchanging some friendly banter with another shopper. I like that about this country. It did not slow me down though. I’m thinking of what I will give this man when I meet him. What questions I might ask him and what possible outcomes there may be - his gratitude, surprise, possible madness or drunkenness. Him saying “God bless you” me saying, “There’s no need for THAT”. My decision is that I will give him all the cash I have on me. This amounts to $70.02 after I have paid cash for the crate. I think about keeping 2 dollars to have as tips for someone else but I do like the idea of giving him everything I have on me.

On my way out, the same security guard says goodbye in her cheerful way. I talk to her regarding when they are closing. The lift to where my car is, is inside the store so she tells me of another way to get back to my car if the shop is closed. I return to my car and drop the crate off. I wonder about whether or not I should drive out instead of walk out… I try to have a look for him from the parking lot 2 floors up but I am on the wrong side of the building. Back down I go. I am in a fine mood. I am probably going to New York and I am off-setting my richness ‘issue’ with a constructed encounter I expect will enhance my life and be an unusually good thing for this homeless guy. I am confident ready for this meeting of worlds.

Passing the security guard again… we exchange more friendly words. This time I ask her name “ Melissa”. I give her mine. We are both big smiles and cheer. I say “Melissa, please look at me now.” Takes a step back, arms open, palms up. “I would like you to observe me now and if I come back through here, tell what is different about me then. Because I am going out there and either something is or is not going to happen.“

“Ok” she beams.

And off I go… I think I bet she’s thinking I’m going to propose to someone or something. I now decide that I will keep $5 back from my man but ask him if he is ok with that as I wish to give it to someone else (perhaps Melissa). See what take he has on allowing another person to benefit from a random gift too. I’m also disappointed to find that I do not have any of my friend Jason’s “Licenses 2 Live” with me as I could also give him a couple of those and suggest he give them to someone he receives some money from in the future thereby enhancing that exchange and allowing the Licenses to be distributed in another and more poignant fashion unbeknown to us involved in that project.

Out of the parking lot and into the night I go. Straight to the corner where I saw him.

Where he was.

He is not there.

Ok.

Well that’s ok.

Disappointing but ok.

But I will have a bit of a look around. So I start up the street – trying to think… where would a crippled homeless guy go? Which way would he walk? Along the busy road or a darker side street? I recognise this is a little hopeless but I say to myself – just trust your intuition. So eagerly I go up one street. North. A block. Nothing. Backtrack and walk west… I pass a very large hotel with several doormen outside. I stop to talk to them and ask if they saw an elderly homeless guy go this way. I’m talking to 2 of them really. One sort of implies yes but wants to know what happened and what the matter is. I quickly reassure that nothing is wrong and that I just need to talk to him and its all good. He’s now claiming he doesn’t know. I get slightly irritated – saying that I want to give the old guy something but this guy is just saying, “I can’t say”. I have the feeling that this is the moment I am meant to bribe/tip him. I do not but remind myself that I should not let this irritate me because this fellow has done nothing wrong and is just the person I chose to talk to in this quest. To him, I am nothing but potential trouble. So is he not going to do or say anything else. Grrr.

I carry on in that direction another block. Nothing. I pass a couple of banks and think about drawing more money. Why not?

I don’t, I get distracted looking around and thinking. My energy is draining away. I am resigned to returning back the way I came. Passing the hotel. I check the irritation in and leave that behind forever. I’m back where I started, on the corner I first saw the guy at. No sign. I’m feeling flat about it.

I cross the street and head down another block, east – there are a couple of other homeless guys there. Much younger and a bit sketchy looking. Suddenly I don’t really feel safe. I know I am. There are loads of people around and these guys are not even vaguely paying me any attention. Why should they? They’re very used to having no attention paid to them. A little further along there is another shivering lump with large unkempt hair trying to sleep underneath a filthy sleeping bag. Some coke cups, bottles and open books of matches are near him/her. To what purpose i do not know. I do not have the same feeling at all regarding these less fortunate folk. I think about giving them the money. Talking to them and satisfying my ‘encounter’ needs with or on (?) them. I don’t. I just walk back to where I came from.

I’m definitely feeling flatter now. So much of all this just seems so odd and so alien all of a sudden. I did a fair job of exposing myself to the will of the universe and I have to accept that this is what the universe wanted. I don’t bother with thoughts about how I could’ve moved faster and so on. I just never got to hear that guy’s story and do my good deed thing. That’s ok. I saved myself 70 bucks! Fuck. How could I even think that, but that’s what Mind does to us, it thinks things. Weird things. It does not mean we are those thoughts. They just come and many, like that one, just need to be let go.

My focus shifts now to Melissa the smiley security guard. What will she say on my return?

I can feel my glumness. I wonder if she will notice. I already know that I was much livelier and chirpy earlier. Filled with charitable potential. So I wonder if I should give her this money. But that is not what this is about for me. Symbolically I wanted to give that guy everything I had. And yes I did toy briefly with the idea of really giving him EVERYTHING I had. But naturally the universe saw fit to make sure I ended up giving him nothing. And now there’s a homeless old guy that I know about yet he does not know I exist. To him – I am not anything, not even nothing – yet for me he is something. A formative moment of madness or clarity, kindness or compulsion, I don’t know and it does not matter. I was happy I had tried but not elated.

I realised that I wanted to see Melissa and to give her a gift but that they were all in the car. So I returned to my car via the other lift so our first re-encounter would be fresh. I got 2 “Licenses-2-Live” and 3 button badges - a “I ‘heart’ life” which I’ve been wearing recently because I do, a set-of orange palm-trees on black and one that says “I’m out of my mind (back in 5 minutes)” and $20… as its USA and money talks…

And back down I go and return as if I was just coming back from my grandiose scheme. She is smiling. I stand a little way away… She looks me up and down and says she can’t tell any difference (I can’t write a southern drawl by the way). She doesn’t know. I’m definitely not as chirpy as I was but I am smiling. She asks if I shaved or something? I realise she is just looking at me physically. So I say “Oh, I’m just the same physically I was wondering if you had noticed anything different in my demeanour?” She was “Oh! No, I don’t think so” And went on to say she had imagined I was going to shave my head or something or come back wearing something crazy (very possible this last for those who know me).

So we chat about expectations and communications and how both of us had not imagined what the other would think or was really up to. I told her the story.
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The dialogue exchange with her above has been deleted on the grounds of the author wishing to remain grounded, which is often difficult for him to do. Suffice it to say when I had gone out to find this guy I was also of the intention to never tell anyone ever. I wanted to do something for the impact it would make on someone and not for the credit I would receive. This has been an increasing desire on my part to introduce that more into my life. When the situation changed, I felt the universe had sort of tricked me so it inspired me to write this up.

Melissa Wilson is 20, she’s originally from Louisiana, and she’s in LA and writing her first novel. She likes the idea of psychiatry and thinks that she might go back to university soon to do more of that. I commended her on her wonderful spirit of friendliness. We both expressed the hope that we would see each other again sometime. I was tempted to trade an email but I thought that it was also unnecessary. We come from very different walks in life and if our paths cross again they will do that anyway and not just because we made it to be. Besides I know where she works and she can, if she is cunning reach me through the License 2 Live website. I had wanted to give her a “Greeters License” as well as a “Random Kindness” license but I did not have any of those with me so I gave her a “Ground Standing License” which was kind of good for her security guard role and a “One Day License” just for fun with instructions on how she could get more licenses and the 2 I wanted her to have – I hope she does and so can you **see below**.

I never gave her the $20. Our exchange was too nice to bring money into it and it was so much beyond what she expected after saying “Hello”. I kind of gave her extra gifts with the suggestion she could pass them on too and thus also share in the wonder of gifting.

Maybe tomorrow I will go and take a photo of her – if indeed she is still there. That way I will have some photography to aid the story… after all this is a long essay unalleviated by some snaps.

** www.license2live.com

Go to this website – check out the licenses – you can order some for yourself and for now and the next few weeks they will be sent to you for free. This wonderful guy I have the fortune of knowing, Jason Keck aka The Jayman or Cheetah, has set this up. It’s a great way of making people smile and having a small but perhaps significant social impact on them and the fun in their lives.

My understanding of it is that these are great little reminders that we should live our lives according to our own rules and not the dictates of society. And they can function in a way as ‘omens’ – like if you have one around you might just ‘notice’ it right when you need to…

He’s done this all out of his time and pocket. By simple necessity and the fact that the demand is rising for them he has got to start charging – at LEAST for the post and packaging plus the small costs of the items themselves and someone to do all the shipping.

So check it out. Now for free ones and later for new variations!

And if you do get any, spread them on… the feeling of giving one to someone else and seeing their reaction is really fun.

The “legal” disclaimer in case you encounter any negativity (and I have only had 3 negative reactions out of about 150 gifting moments is that you are merely providing a reminder to people that they can act on these freedoms they already have.

I’ll have more to write about these in due course but I am almost done for tonight and I have a lot to do.

So… am I going to New York? I don’t know yet – I will decide that tomorrow. I think I probably will but it might not be on Sunday – maybe I’ll just take another day or 2 here in LA. There’ s no need to rush though there is one cool sneaky event to go to on Sunday in NYC, which would be good, and I do have that pattern of trying to do everything. Do I care about the money? No not really. Which leaves me wondering what I was really doing all evening.

And I wonder about the state I am in. This definitely counts as writing. It certainly happened very fast and i think that was as the result of it coming from a real experience. I just had to write what happened and what i felt. Easy. No need to make anything up. Was it overall born of boredom? Was it done at the prospect of excitement or simply torn from me so that at the last minute before I leave this town I do not fail in my goal of having written? What do you think?

I think I need to go to sleep…

Clear Skies

Dr L. xxx

ps I also did not give Melissa the “I’m out of my mind - back in 5 minutes” button… I thought I’d keep that.

8 - News From The Martian Front

Fellow Terrans,

Wonderful News! Our Imperial Space Forces, guided by the God of Almighty Equations have bypassed the Martian Defences and re-established a beachhead on the Red Planet catching those weedy evil anal-probing cow-abducting Martian pests napping.

Read all about it here in this tamed down article:
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/science/nature/7411113.stm

By using a Northern Polar approach our forces only had to break through the fiery atmospheric shields bypassing the undetectable arrays of zyto-gosmic disruptors and batteries of zeltar-beams presumed to have been installed around Equatorial Mars in response to the successful attack made in 2004 by the Illustrious Rover Mission. These concealed destructive arrays are the only logical explanation for loss of the subsequent missions to Mars. After all how else would the Martians be shooting them down? And the fact that we can’t see them is surely a testament to the fact of the Martians cunning ability to hide themselves and their gold. Vis-a-vis we have yet to actually capture one on Earth – but we know they are here, we keep finding Martian rocks - see picture – and we know where they are – so if you’re a Martian reading this then turn yourself in and we promise no harm will come to you haha. Honest.

It was a million to one chance that they’d come to Earth yet still they came! I wonder what chance they gave us of coming to them! We showed them alright!

This victory heralds a turn in the tide of war against Mars. Since 1960 scores of assaults have been launched by a coalition of space cowboys. And Martians have been obliterating our brave forces since then, sometimes blowing rockets up as they are about to launch other times using mind control lasers to turn promising scientists into brainless muppets uploading software that redirect probes to target Earth instead. Lest we forget the fallen hero’s of Operation Marsnik, Sputnik, Zond, Mariner, Viking, Kosmos, Phobos, Observer, Nozomi and Beagle.

Since 1976 and the first penetration of their defenses with Viking 1 & 2 landing a small force on the surface it’s only been managed twice by Pathfinder/Sojurner (97) and Rover Spirit (04). These brave yet unsupported forces hold out as long as they can until the merciless and ignorant Martians batter them to bits. Well this mission is appropriately named Phoenix. As the Phoenix will only rise from the ashes (of Martian cities and culture).

In exchange the multitude of UFO sightings around Earth continue to add up as do the annoying reports the Martians broadcast through-out the solar system regarding their War on Terra. I can even make you all aware that Agent Pearl and I encountered several one evening in Uruguay. Some disguised as fireflies, others that resembled cars cresting a dusty horizon but al UFO’s to be sure. Why Uruguay you might ask? Well they have a lot of cows which UFO’s love. 2nd only to abducting humans they love dismembering cows (just ask Paul Marangos). And Uruguay really doesn’t have much of an air defense system so they can operate with pretty wild abandon here unlike over the USA and the former USSR. Now have you also noticed that common “U” in the country names and UFO? Well – you should equally be aware that there is no such thing as a coincidence... No wait – that’s rubbish – of course there are coincidences. Its just that they only get interesting around Class IV.

Since our heroic Terran forces have landed several propaganda images and films have been acquired and sent back to Earth for mineral and financial analysis with a view for what can be gained by conquering, colonising and bringing the Good Word to the microbes of carbon-based life oppressed by the Martians for all eternity. Don’t worry Microbes! Earth will save you!

Many groups here on Earth are opposed to this Terran hostility believing we should focus on Earth, finish the job here, strip-mine the other planets later and devote our resource to saving Tibet from chanting monks.

And NOW view what's really going on here

and added later... this

7 - Squids Alive (or not)

Hi All,

If you have not been watching the dissection of this Colossal Squid well here is a link to some of it:

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/science/nature/7374297.stm

Now, we humans really are a race of bigots, this is EXACTLY what we as a race, have been complaining about and accusing the Extra-Terrestrial’s in their pesky UFO’s of doing to us for years. Abducting and dissecting!

Jeez – its like these scientists and interweb enthusiasts are simply not paying attention to the idea that the colassal squids are gonna find out about this! What with eyes the size of plates, all those tentacles and shit and with the interweb being as it is, these critters are bound to be able to at least pick up wi-fi out there in the doubly deep ocean. And on the back of THAT there seems to a total lack of respect for this squid’s fearsome arsenal which they so gleefully go on about in the article. They're asking for trouble and its gonna be some poor coastal resort that gets it no doubt.

Just imagine the scene when the now blind, biggest-ever squid wakes up and attacks the scientists that are poking and prodding him. Mayhem.

Watch the seas ... In the meantime I will go back to something more useful...

6 - Not to be Trusted

Hello all and Happy Good Friday. Despite being irreligious (though mildly spiritual) I find some of the Catholic / Christian traditions in some sense worth pursuing. For example adding a cross onto something you eat on Good Friday. As I (vaguely) understand it, this has mainly manifested itself as the Hot Cross Bun. Now of course these are generally available all year round in selected heathen bakeries. But there is a definite and wonderful increase in the availability of them around Easter. Consequently, holding to the faith of my birth, I make a point of ensuring I have some of these available to me on Good Friday.

Yesterday I could only find a packet of 6. No matter, I thought, perhaps I will find someone to share them with. My plan was to cut them in half, toast them, add large dollops of cold goats milk butter and add raspberry jam to half of these as well. Sounds good? They were great! Too great… you see…

I have left South America for North America. The film Doomsday I spent last year making premiered last weekend. So I figured now would also be a good time to visit certain studios in the hope of alerting them to me and thus enticing them to offer me another film to have a wonderful time with (sometime in the near but not too near future please – October would be ideal). Obviously while I worked on the film I saw numerous versions of the edit including the final one. However this week in an excellent theatre with great sound I saw Doomsday for the first time as a final finished film. Notably I was seeing the film with the full soundtrack and final mix. This can make a huge difference to the feel of the film and I loved it. Ok I was very nervous in the beginning and I do think the opening quarter is not as strong as the rest but I was quickly reassured by the American audience’s animated response. You’ve got to love them, lots of clapping, cheering, laughs and even some comments. When ‘THE CAR’ was revealed, one guy who had laughed a lot, shouted, “Stop it, this is ridiculous”. Haha – yes it was and yes the film is but that’s just it – it’s not to be taken seriously, just as escapism and an adventure into a very vaguely plausible world of someone’s imagination. Anyway I chatted to some of the audience afterwards and they were delighted by the entertainment it had provided. Being a ‘most excellent severed heads movie’. Haha…

But back to the point - I am staying at Warwick’s apartment in Los Angeles. He’s out of town so I have full run of the pad. His place is one of two garden cottages behind another friend’s (Chris Campbell) house. The small yard outside my door gets lots of lovely sun and is the perfect place for a hot cross bun and a nice cup of tea.

I wreaked havoc on this pride of Hot Cross Buns. A fraction under 5 devoured in one sitting! That I managed to do this is either testament to my devotion to the traditions of my upbringing or to the fact that I simply cannot be trusted to exercise restraint in the face of lovely, yummy sugary bun-things.

And sharing them? Haha no chance – I even had to pretend I didn’t have any when the lovely lady from the other garden flat left to go who knows where? This was the first time I have ever seen her and I am suspicious about her choice of timing, maybe she was after the buns… I guess I am confessing this crime of selfish bun-devouring due to the latent feelings of Catholic guilt I am feeling! How appropriate!

See shot of aftermath... imagine me languishing, bloated alongside...

I know many weeks have passed since I last wrote - The Great Crabescape. If that was an act of altruism then this scoffing of the goodies must be the counterbalancing act of selfishness. Life after all does have its mountains and valleys and the dark and light should balance each other.

Many philosophies and gurus have talked of the ‘middle way’, Buddhism and Aristotle being quick examples. I have often thought about this and intuitively felt it to be right. I’d also thought that it would generally be easier to live a life along a middle road with various experiences counterbalancing each other to bring life into that kind of equilibrium.

However last night, a friend of a friend pointed something out about the middle way that just ran home a deeper truism regarding this. Perhaps it is obvious to others but I had not fully realised this… its HARD to stay in the middle. There are so many things that pull and push us towards either extreme. And it is very easy to slip off that middle line. One does not return to the middle line by countering with an extreme action on the other side. The ‘middle-way’ of life as they are suggesting should ‘always’ be along the middle line. This is not the same as a life apparently in balance by a series of wavering yet counterbalancing actions of various extremes. That would be a life of two extremes. Er… these are early thoughts… that I am sure I will comment further on sometime… I welcome your own comments (5 marks)

I know much is missing about the weeks between Crab Rescue and now. I will fill in some gaps notably Rio De Janeiro, Feb 29 and UFO hunting in Uruguay’s Land of the Dead but not quite yet. I wanted to put this piece out today for its relevance to the rest of the Easter weekend.

For consider this… if I can show no restraint regarding some hot cross buns then what does it say about my ability to follow a middle line? And worse, what chance do I stand on Easter Sunday when all the Easter Eggs of the world are fair game? If you were ever in the market to pray for someone – now would be the time to pray for me! Aarrrgghhhhh - beware little eggs… I come for thee…

But what’s this? My neighbour is returned – oh glory be – I can now attempt to correct the error of my ways! Perhaps I can offer to make her a very nice salad!

Haha… I had planned to leave it at that just pretending that I would do something about this… and mail this all to you about an hour ago… but then I really did start feeling a little guilty and decided I could toast the last hot cross bun and offer it to her. At least that would save me from eating it as well!

So I did…

And I offered it to her and she was so lovely about it too. Though I suspect a little suspicious at first… we then sat in the sun and chatted for a while. It was great – especially when Jefandi made it clear she had just eaten and thus I got to eat most of the hot cross bun anyway! Hehehe – it all works out well in the end. And I am ‘sorry’ I ever doubted her intention at the timing of her appearance in the morning. I’m also sad that I do not recall having met her last year though this was in the week immediately after Burning Man and I refuse to be held responsible for anything I don’t remember from then.

See attached shots 02 and 03. Incidentally there is a guaranteed bonus prize associated with shot 03 if you can tell me what the thing on my shirt is.












I can also reveal that I began this mail in a slightly more ‘valley-orientated’ headspace but the twin acts of spending time with you all and having a nice interaction with a cool neighbour have helped that immensely. The effect of an ‘interaction’ is obvious for someone on their own but the positive effect of the ‘creative writing’ is very interesting indeed. I’ve noticed it before and enjoy using it as a way to reach out to all you people that I miss the company of.

By mentioning Burning Man again too and through a couple of reminders from other people I never sent Part 3 of that story either. Of course I only ever half-wrote it and then was caught up in the act of living life so never got around to it. I had also thought that I could probably get away without writing it but I somehow feel it may be worth doing soon.

So it seems I have some self-assigned ‘homework’ though I will wait until I am in another ‘valley’ so the writing of it will make me appreciate my time in the ‘valley’. All of this can definitely not happen before my afternoon nap!


Much love


Doctor Lobster

Included a gratuitous image at the top of this page taken while I was surfing that to some degree can be used as evidence that I am indeed having a good time. There is something nice about the mood of it that I am in agreement with.

5 - The Great Crabescape

CALL OF THE FUN-DAMENTALIST

& THE GREAT CRAB RESCUE

Hi All,

First a note regarding 2 key dates that are rapidly approaching us:

1. Wednesday 20 Feb Lunar Eclipse – keep ya beads peeled to enjoy the astro-spectacular event. Note Earth’s Shadow! Here’s a useful website http://mreclipse.com/LEdata/TLE2008Feb/TLE2008Feb.html
In London it’ll start about 01:45 (early early on 21 feb) and hit total at 3am but you won’t see it behind all the clouds anyway.

My total will be in Brazil at midnight – great!

South Africa you have total at 5am (again this is really early on 21 Feb)

And in Victoria/Vancouver/San Fran/LA the moon should rise (20 Feb) during the total phase of the eclipse, which could be really interesting – large and red – and a great opportunity for some interesting photography with it close to the horizon. I don’t know when moonrise is though – 7ish?

2. Leap Year so there’s a BONUS day - 29 Feb I know its just another day and many of you will have to work (hahaha) but I think its as good a day as any to make a point of doing SOMETHING you really want to do - perhaps for yourself or someone else or perhaps just for the FUN of it! I plan to spend it as irreverently as possible and from my radical “FUN-damentalist” position I recommend you do that too.

What I will be doing is a well-kept secret (I’m keeping it even from me) to make sure you make your own choice about what to do that bonus day! Ok I am pretty sure whatever I do that day it will ALSO involve at least one interpretative dance to “With Cat-like Tread (upon the way they steal...)” from The Pirates of Penzance which one among your number have been familiarised with.

And now for the main attraction of this posting along with a couple of shots...

Crab Rescue

In a previous ‘despatch’ 3 – Crab is off the menu I spoke of the desire to rescue a crab:

“I will save a crab. And I will return it to its habitat. And it will probably not even realise its fortune. And it’ll probably just get recaught again the next day. But maybe not. Maybe that crab will go onto to fulfil its full crabness. Either way I will not know. I know the gesture is only tokenism but at least I will believe that there is a crab out there that is linked to and alive because of me. It will be like Schrödinger’s Crab – it may be alive if I do not know it is dead. So it can live for as long as I, and any memory of it I pass along, survive. Like the Little Prince who upon finding vast fields of roses on earth learns that what is special about his rose on his planet is that it is his rose. It is the rose he knows and loves. So for me too, I will know there is one crab out there that is my crab, one I love and one I know.” 28 Jan 2008

This quest resumed immediately after the baptism of fire that Carnaval in Olinda was. Carnaval is an incredible cultural event and a huge party. It warrants an essay of its own but its not getting it, not yet, not now but I would repeat the experience in a heartbeat in the same amazing front-line way with the same salt of the earth people. Post carnaval I headed back North to Fortaleza – the crab-hungry capital of the North East of Brazil. I did not want to stay long in this town. I felt my time in the area was done (for now) and I wanted to head to the South of Brazil. I was also in desperate need of a complete reset in terms of laundry and headspace. But as a Completionist I had this one last task. Its good I’m not Herculean in my self-tasking though. This seemed an easy prospect...

But I arrived in the evening and immediately my rescue plans were held up by a lack of information. I asked many people where I might be able to buy a live crab and got as many different answers as people but none convincing at all and mostly that it was not possible. I figured a trip to the main beach restaurant section might turn up more and better info. Quite possibly I may even only be able to purchase a live crab from a restaurant and insist on taking it away, kicking and uncooked. Snatching life from the boiling pot of death!

After an expensive cab ride to the area, I was disappointed to find the region nearly deserted – it being more of a daytime, sunset area. At this point I took to explaining to my elderly cab driver, Flavio exactly what it was I wanted to do with a live crab.

In my shattered Portuguese I was able to say this:

“Eu gusto de carangue moite. Mas nao comer. Eu vo compra uma mas vide. Possu du livre”

Literally translated this means something like – “I like crab very much. But not eat. I want to buy one but life. Can to free”

Eventually this phrase and my extravagant hand movements worked. His smile when it clicked was both wonderful and telling. That I was mad but that it was a funny and kind enough thing to do that he should be part of it. He confirmed what another cab driver had said about a crab buying location - early the next morning (and only that morning – no other, thank the great crustacean lord, I did no relish any more time in this town than necessary). He voluntarily discounted our journey that night and agreed to pick me up the next day. He earned a tidy amount from this adventure, which is good. It proved that taxi drivers get to see a lot of strange stuff and know a lot about their towns. He also got a good story of a crazy crab-loving foreigner that day too.

I’d been concerned that as a crab-clueless gringo I’d be sold dud crabs. Crabs missing legs or too far-gone, dehydrated and uninterested in survival. That would defeat what I was trying to achieve. My desire was to be able to believe that out there, was a crab, mine, like the Little Prince’s rose, special only to me and only because it was my crab. I’d also hope that out there, is a crab that has a special human in amongst all the humans because that human is hers. And for me to believe that would require a strong display of desire for life and freedom from the crab itself.

Flavio picked me up an hour late - just at the point I was fretting in a useless touristic fashion and overheating at 830 am – the day already up to 29 degrees and looking set to go to 38. We drove to the crab selling street corner. Here there were some 4 or 5 piles of crabs – perhaps 100 crabs in each pile. When we walked up several guys bustled about us proffering ‘racks’ of 8 crabs closely tied together with reed strips. This purchase period was unnecessarily frenzied in my opinion making me (rightly so) suspicious that the ‘rack’ contained duds. Why were we rushing the sale? There had been rumours of illegality in this kind of sale though that can scarcely really be credible. There was a lot of movement amongst these crabs but impossible to see that each had every leg. I agreed on a particular rack being waved around a lot – probably in an effort to wake the groggy crustaceans. One crab from a different ‘rack’ had somehow sprung its bonds and made a break for freedom, only to be grabbed back by a handler. This display of desire for survival endeared it to me. Having one ‘rack’ of 8 already I got this loose lively one added to the deal. 6 Reis they cost – less than £2.

While Flavio drove, I chatted to the crabs in a bucket in a rucksack and poured water over them. They just watched me, calmly, as if resigned to their fate. I guess they’d been captive long enough and had tried hard enough to escape that they figured they had no chance.

I’d selected a large inner city park and mangrove region known as the Parc Ecologique de Coco to release them into. Its a very big park and surrounded by favelas on many sides. Flavio insisted on dropping me at a region well patrolled by armed police. I was pretty sure they were there for the safety of any visitors/joggers and not to stop people bringing crabs in. But I was playing at eco warrior, feathers in my hair, crabs in my bag and being unsure of the legal status of inner city crab release I was nervous.

The first thing I noticed was that this mangrove swamp did not need any more crabs. There were already thousands! Many different kinds, colours and shapes. Ah well, I thought at least it is crab friendly. More on this in a minute...

I found a secluded corner next to a major lake and set to the task of releasing them before I myself was hauled in for eco-terrorism. Cutting the grass/reed strips holding them together was intense yet super simple with my knife. With each cut came a satisfaction entirely different in meaning and denied to the celebrity cutting a cord/ribbon on a new appliance store.

As the little lovelies were cut free they began to scatter. Well, one of them was on his last 3 legs (bastards) so did not make much ground – I helped it into the water so at least it would have some relief. One other was already dead. I placed his remains in the water too, he will feed others of his kind rather than man. The remaining 6 crabs were all seemingly fit and strong The last of the ones tied together nearly made it into the water with the grass bounds still about him. I managed to grab him and cut him completely free. It was quite a frenetic 2 minutes or so. I knew I would write of these moments so wanted also to illustrate the tale with a photograph or two. So I was wielding a camera and leatherman in a ridiculous dance of record, cut and release with a host of terrified but active crustaceans.

I’d liked the idea of them, having been tied together for so long (possibly even from the same neighbourhood back in the mangrove swamp) and now being able to discuss amongst themselves the fortunes and misfortunes of their situation. Tricky. So far away from home with a brain the size of a pea. But most simply scuttled away from each other and me. 2 remained together disappearing into the same hole. I liked that.

I guess if they had an inkling of their fate - rumours getting back to the distant villages or overhearing hungry humans discussing their culinary plans – then the crabs may have been anticipating one last moment in which they would have a chance to escape. So they may have been primed for just this moment to bolt. “Ok lads, we’re going to have one last chance so be ready, conserve your energy but don’t go to sleep – be alert and at that moment we all just go for it – ok?”

Naturally I am personifying but crabifying is too hard for me as a human with no exoskeleton, recessed eyes and only 4 limbs.

After cutting free the 8 - I turned back to the bucket. I’d brought many green leaves to provide some sort of comfort for the journey from street edge to sanctuary. Nestled amongst these was the 9th crab. This was the one. This one had shown the most fight and will to live. This one had caught my eye. Slightly smaller than the others, I had imagined her a female, which I liked – allowing the prospect of belief in breeding to create a dynasty.

This last one and I regarded each other. She watched me closely. I watched her just as closely; marvelling at her beautiful colours, purple though greeny-white. When I reached in she did not try to move away but revolved her eyes around in opposite directions, once, returning them to watch me. Gently I lifted her hard, surprisingly weighty body out of the bucket and placed her on the mud of the mangrove. As her legs touched down and she felt my grip loosen, she took off. Eyes still on me but directly away, into the water, to safety and hopefully to live a life.

Its not lost on me that what I did might have been ecologically immature and even dangerous to the ecosystem I added them into. After all this mangrove already had enough of its own crabs. But it is the same region so hopefully its all ok. I do not know enough about crabs to know of sustainable breeding group sizes or species crossing. I strongly suspect that these crabs – the magnificent 7 – may be dead very soon. Traumatised by their alien abduction. Stuck in unfamiliar surroundings with potentially hostile inhabitants. They were a group and might’ve been friends but I doubt their brains work to function as a team pulling together for survival in this type of extraordinary situation. But that does not matter to me. What matters is that I saved these crabs from being eaten by men. And even better, these crabs each tasted the sweetness of unlikely redemption. All had struggled to escape and they all had a moment in which to rejoice and believe they were going to make it. To be free once more. If in the end they starve or die a lonely death at least it is a natural one and all of us arrive at this fate.

It was this moment of urgent success and elation at reaching safety that I gave to the universe that day and with it I savoured something akin to it too. I expect that day and those moments to remain with me for some time – keeping me smiling and crying outward and inward at appreciation for the wonder of life.

I imagine there is another possible brief moment of elation as some of these crabs are released into tanks in restaurants. This however, is a false dawn that doesn’t bear thinking about. As they then watch their comrades being taken and eaten until finally their own fate is sealed with a trip to the kitchen.

I hope when the time comes, I too am feisty and ready enough to take advantage of any random selection for rescue.

It does make me wonder about all the ecological impact studies and so on that must be raging all over the planet in an effort to understand and sustain the environment as it is - suitable for human and species life as we know it now. After all its not the planet we’re trying to save just humans. The planet will take care of itself and snuff out the destructive species we humans are in good time. As ever. Just a shame that so many other innocent species will be wiped out with us.

Also why not put this kind of energy into really doing something about the situation. Such as improving the transport link so less crabs need to be taken. Keep the price high by only taking the same end number. Thus enriching upstream. Sadly though that would inevitably mean less manual crab catching labour positions so people would be out of jobs and in the end they’d also still probably catch crabs and send them the old way as it’d still be as lucrative and there’s no way, I, as a gringo could control this trade and action. Sigh.

But there is a crab out there that I love because it is my crab. A crab that counts a human among her angels. A crab that can now always have hope and may speak of redemption and positivity to her fellows. A crab that no matter how bad a situation may be, will always believe there is a chance! And it feels good to me to know that and to believe it of my own life.

It was the work of a Modern Romantic Completionist (sub-category Completing Idealist). I did what I promised to myself I would do all those many days earlier on the hot banks of a distant river. If you must know I backtracked a long way to achieve this task but keeping this kind of promise is important to me.

Oh Crab...

x

4 - Year of the Rat (early)

Year of the Rat

The Pig is dead. Long life the Rat.

This past year, that of the Pig, was a year of self-celebration, in which one’s path ran a locally flatline. Many steps were taken safely away from the precipice. Looking back it is clear the road was not flat but rose gradually all along and over it significant heights on a stable platform were attained.

This next year, the Rat, is a year of high activity in which effort is rewarded.

But if ever a year required a positive attitude it is the year of the Rat. Otherwise depression will corner us in holes entirely unsuitable to our wonderful existence. An apparently insurmountable obstacle is never such. Sniff about - there’s always a way through or around.

Like the metaphor, the journey is the trip not the destination, so dream fulfilment is the endeavour not the achievement. So be grateful for the hurdles, it is them that in the end will define the satisfaction of the achievement. Appreciate them rather as indicators that there is a better way.

Always remember an obstacle is not the goal, so focus beyond it.

A good mantra for this year is ‘How can I do it?’ as opposed to the ever popular ‘I can’t do it’. And there is ALWAYS a way – action has its own magic. Many things can be achieved provided they are approached with organisation, energy and a relaxed focus. While the Pig got us out of danger. And next year’s Ox is the super builder, this year’s ground-level labour is even more vital. Without its achievements nothing grander will be attained by the time of the Tiger.

Follow those instincts. You’ve come a long way from the precipice – so backtrack if needs be. Sometimes that’s the fastest way forward. More importantly make no assumptions that while backtracking, things have remained the same. Every situation and place is new and more may be gained from the familiarity with the position. While backtracking you may find the reasons for leaving that situation are gone and that the reversal of direction is indeed now the right way. But beware of traps – things that look easily for the taking are not NECESSARILY for the taking ESPECIALLY if it is in a place you feel you have been before.

While it is good to take advantage of life’s random fortunes one cannot count on them. It is through effort, energy and integrity that one’s existence and prosperity is ensured.

This is a good year to accept change though. To realign one’s goals as old ones may no longer be applicable or good enough. Rigidly sticking to a dream made many years ago by someone much younger and less wise than you are now can in itself be the distraction that prevents the fulfilment of a much more worthwhile accomplishment or state of being. Despite what I have written about there ‘always being a way’ it is important still to “accept loss forever”. There is a difference.

Clear Skies

Doctor Lobster

I’ll add 2 personal notes regarding goal shifting from my archives as case studies.

- I once used to claim that my ultimate goal was to leave the earth’s atmosphere and go into space. I recognised and commented subsequently that how could I have been so foolish to be willing to settle for so little.

- Many years ago I concluded that by 37 I would not think about money anymore. “Thoughtless 37”. It was not a VERY serious goal but I think by placing this even laughably in my life I have found myself thinking about money a lot – increasingly as I approach that age. It was made by a youngster unaware of life’s wonders – a youngster who quite frankly bears little resemblance to myself right now. I won’t be held to ‘goal-success or failure’ by some strange spotty kid I barely recognise. If I think about money after that age then so be it. There’s plenty of other cooler stuff to think about between then and now too. And if I were to seriously try to achieve it then I would not be gnawing on one of life’s legbones as I am right now. And that would be a waste of very good bone marrow.

And would I be unhappy if I achieved it at 38? 40? 50? Never? I should not rely on such a thing for my happiness. I hope you understand.

3 - Crab is off the menu

21 January

I resorted to chocolate tonight for company rather than make the effort with anyone out there in the real world. I guess I’m just in the readjustment phase of now being on my own as a stranger in a strange land (Warwick and Patricia having wandered off on their own life’s path). I did acquire the chocolate on the street from a street vendor but in the end I did not really like her nor her chocolate which was all weird regional fruit-flavours. However I had a super great street-meat meal from another vendor lady who was really cool – a plate of spinach rice, with creamy prawn sauce and a pancake filled with meat for about $3. Very nice. Not quite enough for me so now at 8 o’clock, I am thinking of going back for another round of that grub. Only thing is, most of her dishes contain crab.

And unbeknownst to you I have added them to my sentimental list of animals I will not eat as I just like them as animals too much. Several days back I encountered a whole section of the process by which crabs get from mangrove swamp to dinner plates in these parts. We were cruising down this gorgeous river delta on a 6 hour boat trip. Noisy little diesel thing but we’d hired it between the 3 of us (warwick and patricia) so there were just us and the crew of 3 – 1 captain and 2 teenagers. It was super hot and we lazed and snoozed and tanned and did our portuguese lessons. It was great. At one point I went up onto the little roof – tin – hot and lay there like a cat watching the amazing mangrove swamps go by. The kids were having a sneaky joint at the back of the boat and offered me some which I accepted – why not? The joint was small, pure and rolled in a piece of a4 paper with blue-lines and all. Pretty funny. Nicely stoned too, no paranoia, just mellow – added to the drifting state of bliss... We repeated the experiment with Warwick a few hours later at sunset to similar floating success. Warwick said this was a perfect travel moment... I added that it was the type that one would really want to remember but weren’t going to as we were smoking grass at the time. Seems I was wrong. I do remember it and now it is committed to the collective memory by me writing about it. Nice. I’m glad. See note ** below

But wait this is after the crab moment – rewind...

We were in the town of Paranaiba at the head of a river delta. This town was over an hours asphalt drive from Camocim which is an hours drive by 4x4 over dunes and along the beach crossing 2 small rivers by ferries from Jericoacoara where we’d spent the last 2 weeks learning to surf etc... And Jeri is a 6 hour bus ride from Fortaleza which is where I flew into. My point is we’d travelled a long way to some pretty deep and dark turf.

ANYWAY – All of these towns but mainly Fortaleza have a huge appetite for crab and Fortaleza is large – 2.3million and filled with crab-hungry gringo’s...

occasional motorboats filled with men with spades. A crab’s main defense is to scuttle into its hole when approached but it has no answer to the ruthless spade which transforms its havenAt the start of of our delta trip we encountered the crab-boats. Simple punt or oar or into a terrible trap. And already by noon, several thousand crabs, all tied together in bundles lie on the shore in the baking sun. They remain there all day until nightfall when a truck or 2 arrive to collect the several tens of thousands of crabs and take them to Fortaleza (you know amidst this writing I stopped to check the spelling of Fortaleza – somehow I feel ashamed of that...). Apparently at least 60% of the crabs die en route which means they don’t get sold or something. Its an incredible waste. Some effort is made to keep them alive during the day by piling green leaves onto them and splashing them every now and then with water. But their waving claws and legs were quite a disturbing sight. I accept people are going to eat crabs but I was horrified at the wastage – they could take so many less if they could just be marginally more efficient!

Naturally I am aware of the hypocrisy in all of this (I eat many animals and many of them are slain in a brutal and horrid fashion etc...) but well, its my life and all of us have our own reasons for the sentimental things we do. I had the over-riding urge to rescue at least one of these poor darling creatures (yes I really am fond of them!) but failed on that occasion as we left... The next morning in a different town I did try to buy one in a market but despite being told where they were I could not find them so failed once again in this mission. I was also somewhat distracted by encountering several cow hearts and other body parts on hooks.

My quest remains on-track though. I will save a crab. And I will return it to its habitat. And it will probably not even realise its fortune. And it’ll probably just get recaught again the next day. But maybe not. Maybe that crab will go onto to fulfill its full crabness. Either way I will not know. I know the gesture is only tokenist but at least I will believe that there is a crab out there that is linked to and alive because of me. It will be like Schrodinger’s Crab – it may be alive if I do not know it is dead. So it can live for as long as I and any memory of it I pass along survive. Like the Little Prince who upon finding vast fields of roses on earth learns that what is special about his rose on his planet is that it is his rose. It is the rose he knows and loves. So for me too, I will know there is one crab out there that is my crab, one I love and one I know.

And by way of illustration ... To add to these words are a couple of pictures - above...









I like jellyfish too – very much. In fact I know this great jellyfish dance to go with a song “brothers and sisters, ladies and gentlemen, dance like we’ve removed your skeleton! Jellyfish, jellyfish, jellyfish...” But I do not have to DECIDE not to eat them too. Or at least that is not a hard decision at all. There were loads of them washed up the shores in one of the areas we were in. While I’m sorry some of them get washed up - its better seeing them washed up and than finding them that certain other way.







This was all en route to a region known as the Lencois Maranhenses which is truly an astonishing place. A region of vast white sand dunes. The sand is super fine – the finest sand I’ve ever encountered - the playa at Burning Man is annoyingly finer but it is dust not sand. During the rainy season there are 1000’s of lagoons between these dunes and apparently it stands a chance to become one of the 7 new natural wonders of the world. Rumour has it there is a vote going on to redefine these. Check out www.new7wonders.com . This was not the rainy season but it was astonishingly beautiful nonetheless. Its a harsh land of huge contrast – lush mangrove swamps right alongside pure desert dunes. It boggles the mind that they can co-exist so closely though I suppose man’s environment emulates this too with the super rich palaces interspersed between the favela multitudes.

27 January

But I’m not there anymore – now I’m on a speck of a paradise island – fernando de noronha – 500km off the brazilian coast. Its insanely gorgeous and ridiculously romantic. Coming to a place like this alone feels like a bit of an error. Its been a bit of a chore watching all the loved up couples soaking up the love island atmosphere. And I will admit its pushed me dangerously close to reopening the position of girlfriend within my life. Ho hum. Nothing to be done about it now. Attached are a couple of shots of two girls I tried to chat up on my birthday (26th). The exchanges were fleeting – its tough not being able to speak portuguese very well - though this is improving all the time.








And the crabs on this island are super insane! Everywhere. And noisy – I’ve never really heard them do much but here they make quite the racket down on the ocean shore. I also saw some sort of seasnake today lurking amongst some rocks. It saw me too. Twice it popped its head around a rock. I think it was about to strike at a crab I was photographing. Then on seeing me it retreated back underwater/rock. I think my presence might have saved that crab’s life today too. So it goes. Its not THE ONE I WILL save. And I do have a short video capturing this snake popping its head around the corner and retreating so I was not hallucinating – or at least so was my camera.

So an observation or 2 regarding relationships. As a VERY general rule life outside a long-term relationship (LTR) tends to be more up and down than that inside a relationship (defined as positive, stable and loving not psychotic and destructive). However the lows outside a relationship represent a greater decrease in value than the highs represent an increase.

To illustrate – and please see note below ***
Range of emotional charge within:
- Healthy good loving LTR you want to be in: 5 – 8
- No relationship at all: 1 – 10
- Increase in intensity of low: -4
- Increase in intensity of high: +2

One reason one doesn’t go below a “5” in a relationship is that the other one will always be able to offer support and nurturing in darkish times. Another is that in a relationship one very rarely allows oneself to let go all the way and dig into those inner recesses of anguish cos that’s not going to be appreciated by the partner. That would be regarded as rocking the emotional boat and definitionally would then not be in the category of good loving relationship you want to be in – well at least not for the other person and it takes 2 to make a relationship. It is also my belief that the lowest common denominator effect of 2 people being involved in a relationship tends to make for accepting acceptable compromises rather than going wholeheartedly for what one really wants. And this prevents the rising above an 8. I know that’s gonna get shot down by many of you but bear this in mind. I am talking about a LONG TERM RELATIONSHIP and not about the short term moments of amazingness so often encountered in the courting and honeymoon phases or prevalent in the short term love affair ended only by geographical dislocation (STELAGED). But rather accepts the fact that marriage for love is like fine wine – over time it is soured down to a household vinegar. No matter. I’m also accepting that the LTR holds a distinct advantage in this respect. And yes I have actually thought it might be really nice to have a proper GF again.

I also thought about shaving my beard off to see how young I can still look but I chose not to as its turned a real blonde in all the sun I’ve seen and I think I quite like it. Case study – I would be able to send you a nice macro shot of my new blonde beard if I had a partner to take such a shot and make sure it was in focus etc... But then I also suspect that I would not be writing you all this long email. Cynical? Yes, a little. I think its true that one of the reasons I dislike being in a LTR is that I still don’t know how to be in one and still be myself. I do blame myself for that inability not the lady. When the time comes however – I expect I will have no real choice in the matter.

Now I know I have not told you ANYTHING at all about so many places – the sand dunes, the mangrove swamps with their seahorses, sao luis with its reggae and dilapidated menace, Olinda and all the pre-carnaval festivities and so on and perhaps I will in time but its been 4 weeks today I arrived here and there’s been barely an hour of boredom in that time. Its quite remarkable in fact how many things one can find to do when one has nothing at all to do. As I have not said it yet... Brazil is stunning and a truly remarkable place – its great! Come on over...

Magic

X h

* incidentally I have placed this and the other 2 things I previously wrote on a blogpage – its fledgeling but a good place to store this stuff so people can easily be referred to it... Here’s the site www.doctorlobster.blogspot.com/

** don’t get all worried about this – I’m not smoking any stuff really – this was just one of those great random travel moments and not symptomatic of any greater leanings toward drug usage.

***this is Lobstonian unapplied and unevidenced meta-thysics in case you take it too seriously and question my data. In other words, I’m making it all up.