12:45 p.m. - 2002-12-09
Hell is pigeons
"Hell is other people."
- Sartre
When I was a student in Paris I saw ol Jean-Paul's grave. He's buried with his luv-a, Simone. How romantic. He's buried with Hell.
It was in Paris that I developed my own theory on the netherworld.
"Hell is pigeons."
- Amishboy
If what Belinda Carlisle says is true and heaven is a place on Earth (in the form of whatever is dear to you - say, a baseball diamond in an Iowa cornfield)then Hell can be here on Earth too. Add some reincarnation and a touch of Karma and mix liberally. Viola! Hell is pigeons.
You need only visit a major world city to witness it. And if you sit in a large pigeon gathering area (like Trafalgar Sq, or Place de la Concord, or the Mall in DC, or the Sbarro just off Times Sq) and watch them for a period of time, you will notice a hierarchy and pecking-order. This directly correlates to just how bad you were as a human. (This part of my theory relates to the long length of chain that Mr. Marley is forced to wear in Dickins' Christmas Carol. Seasonally apropos, n'est pas!)
So, I'm sitting in the Jardin du Luxemburg, just feeling the pulse of the city, and watching the pigeons. Some are exquisite. Perfect, colorful specimens. Some on the otherhand, clearly have the mange. There was one that looked a MESS. Tufts of feathers were missing. What feathers there were were spikey and frazzeled - didn't lay right. He had a wicked limp, a bad eye, and was void of any color. Black as night. (yes, it WAS a pigeon.)
After watching him for a bit - I soon noticed his karma. Sometimes when you feed the birds (Topence a bag)you feel sorry for some and try to throw food specifically at them. And you get P.O.'ed at the bullies that muscle them out of the way. Well, this pigeon couldn't be fed to save his life. Even when you were dead certain you could get a piece to him, then one of those tiny little finch's would swoop in and steal his morsel. It was frustrating, in a comical, disheartening way. I soon broke down and gave up. It was then that I realized - this bird was Hitler. He had an awful, wicked price to pay, and he was paying it. Hitler had turned into the most pitiful bird in all of Paris - the city that was once his only true occupied pride and joy. ...and I saw him.
***
As I type this, my housemate Nick is working on his research paper. He's reading the work of the economist W. Edward Deaming. I'm to tell you to check it out.
***
I haven't had cable in two years. Which means I haven't really watched TV in two years. And I love it. I've spent so little time at home in the last few years, because I've been forced to go find something to do out-of-doors. That, or read. And I'm all the better for it. I don't know if I'll ever go back to TV. I've now jammed my bookcase to the brim, and need a second one desperatley. I'm doomed to be one of those reclusive pack-rats that lives in a tiny apartment littered with stacks of books and papers in every nook and cranny. Navigating the room will be a matter of tip-toeing through tight book and paper lined walls. And my only companion will be a spider-plant named Madeline.
Anyway, my point is that every Sunday I go to the Big Man's place for a weekly TV viewing party. We watch whatever the current HBO series is (Six Feet Under, Soprano's, or OZ) and then either America Undercover or Cartoon Network's Adult Swim. Currently the Sopranos' is airing, and last night was the season finale. This is my first season of Soprano's. I HATE the whole guido, mob thing. I consciously stear clear of De Niro, Pacino, and Scorsese (sp.?) films. But so far the Soprano's have been different. It focuses on the real family of a mob boss not just his crime family, so it's much more human. There's actually character development! Last night, the Soprano's decided to get divorced, and the family was all torn up about their parent's going separate ways. I just wanted to say I liked it. TV still has some things to offer. .....like Sealab 2021! And Mission Hill!
***
For the show last night, I decided to stop off at the store and whip some food up at the Big Man's because I was hungary. I just wanted to microwave something, so I picked up some lean cuisine mac n cheese in my grocer's freezer. I only ate two bites. What was I thinking! Later today I'm writing a long, gushing letter of apology to Kraft as an act of contrition.
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