come and play come and play forget about the movement

like the phone call you get on your way to the party from your friend suggesting a program that you would be expected to prefer, if not for fear of damaging your street credit by skipping this, the ochentaeth consecutive such party, it reminds you why you skipped the last seventy nine without any lasting scandal or remorse: fuck tha bullshit.(see the penguin portable jean-jacques rousseau)

this theme found its way into my preparations for the annual proceedings concerning international teacher's day to be held in the seat of the sub-division of clouds. the program seemed official enough: the sheet of typing paper with handwritten information concerning the day of the event, the town to host it, and the suggested amount of money i should contribute to the reception afterwards contained a stamp from the DO's office. the first warning sign was that i mostook the attitudes of the usual players in the arena of the politics of formal education in lebialem, being similar to those of preachers who must endorse, at least in word, every single event or function championed by a church member, and woke up in the morning, dressed, shined my shoes, and set aside my two mille cfa suggested donation. the second warning sign was that i didn't care enough to investigate transportation options (there is one truck, one car,a nd one motorcycle that permanently reside in the village) beforehand and strolled into the market 30 minutes before the meeting's start walking with a swagger of a man who knows he is going somewhere and willing to burn some petrol in doing so, but with the secret confidence of a man who knows that the morotrcycle would already be gone and i'd have to find stand by the road and bum a ride from the cigarette delivery man. i then realised that my destiny of skipping the meeting could be legitimated if i walked up the road a bit so that the motorcycle would pick up someone else first, forcing me to walk the whole distance--it would look quite noble to show up dusty and two hours late saying that i did all i could to arrive. on the way i scaled some hill with wild cassava plants coming from a time when the soil was more fertile, swinging down from some tree branch back to the main road, then stopped at a palm wine shack just past the rusting sign discarded on the side of the road "DOUANE" to check if people would suddenly start speaking french. the proprietor asked me about a passing italian nun talking on her cell phone "c'est votre patois?" "ce n'est guere ainsi, hein" people here are often surprised to find out that i have no traditional name, nor do i have a local dialect that i speak only in Texas (presumed to be alternately a large city and a vast desert filled with guns). when i finaly arrived it turned out to be a market day, meaning i could help myself to such delicacies as turtles and mole rats, basil, irish potatoes (so long as i would buy the entire 10 kilo bucket), rat traps, bread that was baked and not fried, soybeans and dried corn (what americans call deer corn). the meeting became officially skipped when one of the exiting dirigeants found me and took me to the back room of a bar where a woman was waiting behind a curtain. she showed us several chunks of still-warm boiled pork and a spicy fish soup. my friend bought a mole rat that wasn't all the way stiff yet from this kid that has the hookup on that sort of thing and we went off to another bar. the clouds were so thick as to creep in through the windows, obscuring even the other side of the street.

the next day, chewing on the leg of what appeared to be a monkey, (since the foot very closely resembled that of a human infant, save the prehensile toes) i decided to buy one of the piglets that wil go on sale next month, and to show more respect for the domestication of various good-tasting animals. according to my sources who escorted me to the schwaht, a skilled palm tapper can kill the viper that often lounges in the tree without being bitten or falling, then enjoy its meat later on. i must get the permission of an elder to go to the schwaht, or to even say what it is or ask questions about it in public. today ended in a string of disturbances and disappointments: englishman told me that chimpanzee skin is a powerful medicine, i had to isten to my neighbor beat his daughter with a rubber belt then stand outside so that he would know i heard, then cameroun failed to qualify for the world cup by missing a penalty kick.

quoth cortazar:
a veces se que tiene frio, que le pegan. puedo solamente odiarla tanto, aborrecer las manos que la tiran al suelo y tambien a ella, a ella todavia mas porque le pegan, porque soy yo y le pegan. ah, no me desespera tanto cuando estoy durmiendo, o corto un vestido, o son las horas de recibo de mama y yo sirvo el te a la senhora de regules o al chico de los rivas. entonces me importa menos, es un poco cosa personal, yo conmigo; la siento mas duenha de su infortunio, lejos y sola pero duenha. que sufra, que se hiele; yo aguanto desde aqui, y creo que entonces la ayudo un poco. como hacer vendas para un soldado que todavia no ha sido herrido y sentir eso de grato, que se o esta aliviando desede antes, previsoramente