Gibberish as usual

The day after sanctions on Cuba were lifted the Communist government decided the time was ripe to do something deep and profound. After much consideration it was decided a polar bear zoo would be built in the middle of Havana, as a remonstration against the untenable destruction of natural ecosystems due to capitalist greed. Now communists do not like to look foolish, so a beautifully written 400 page manifesto was published, outlying how the whole thing was not only possible, but both eco-sustainable and financially viable. So work began with fervor, the likes of which the old city had never seen. Finally the whole project was completed, 10 polar bears were brought in to live in the new edifice. A grand opening ceremony was held with much pomp and grandeur. But the celebrations were short lived. Within a week, nine bears died of heat stroke. The government was not happy, a few of the scientists responsible for the initial manifesto were executed, publicly global warming due to the west was blamed for the cub's deaths. Miraculously the tenth cub persisted to breathe, the whole country rejoiced. It was named Lenin.  It was decided that on May day, to commemorate the fall of fascism, Lenin in true Marxist spirit would be brought forth admist the people. Alas, walking through the streets of Havana in May proved too strenuous for Lenin. He died that night in the cage. The government was dismayed, but there was little time to despair, rumors of Lenin's demise were being propagated by Western media outlets. Hugo, as bearish a man as could be found on the streets of Havana at 4am, was put into a polar bear suit and forced into the bear cage. The next morning expertly shot propaganda videos of him were released along with the sensational news about a foiled American assassination attempt on Lenin's life. Naturally, in order to protect comrade Lenin's life, no outsider could be allowed near the encloser for some time.  A thousand miles away Washington DC was abuzz with news of the Cuban bear. The president decided , that America could not be shown up like this by the communists. A 500 acre polar bear sanctuary in the middle of Washington was proposed. Over the next few months plans were wrought, and rewrought, millions of dollars worth in contracts  were sold, the I 66 and I 95 were rerouted, old men in musty suits debated how many bears of what gender should be brought, the entire borough of Fairfax had to be relocated. Finally the day came when the sanctuary was complete, it was fitted with a drive through Mcdonald's and a church, so as the bears would grow to be  American in temperament.  The president stood proudly in front of the  reservation holding a cuddly polar bear cub, and  declared that at last america could feel great again.

More Letters

Have you felt a moment, you believed to be the most beautiful moment of your life. I have. After you believe all worldly values are beyond reach, that you are at last lost(sometimes read free), then you come across that last  unmistakable pull of human-contact, as if  reaching out to you. "Hide Hide"! "Quick Hide"! Hide from what lord? I thought we were already lost, beyond any hope of being found. You know what the most precious portion of an object is? That last bit, which you taste knowing that it is about to be gone. This miraculous hand reaching out to you, so far away from home, defying belief and rationality, you treasure it, giving in to hope, because the thought of losing touch again seems inconceivably terrible. It is like a hug from mum after your first failure. Ah, failure, my old friend, we meet again. You know what seals a great proof. When the author shows he/she has overcome a late threat to his/her proof. When they have gone beyond where they have successfully been before? When,  all previous intuitions start looking ridiculous, when your greatest strength courage has deserted you. To snatch, for once snatch victory from the realms of sure defeat. That is what they call genius. When one looks to beat you hopelessness, and above all  you failure.  One needs to fight you at least once in defeat. That is the way of life, I understand. We are all fools, we mistake our strength for courage.

Thank you. We had a conversation. I asked if you could accept that I would love something more than you. You said no. That was it. A brief conversation, but nonetheless someone reaching back to me when I asked. Thank you, you were frank. In my cynicism I had lost belief that frankness still exists. I have rational hopes now. I must talk to you. When you are unaware, and something has crept up on you, hits you suddenly, and you are filled with hope, unlike ever before, is that not love? See, I remember love. Someone we know would say it's not true love. But I disagree, the best moment of a feeling, is when it lingers, not easily dismissed. When it demands a decision, either to fight or give up. Once you make a decision either way, the peak is over. Never, fear to ask yourself questions, your beliefs will always be stronger after a thorough round of questions. False beliefs always die. What else do I remember about you, that was real? You must excuse me, I am not good at this, you see. Ah, I remember you telling me about your self-defense lessons, how you beat up the volunteer police officer. You said it with revel, it was an understated emotion, but I did understand you, and the significance of the emotion. It was a moment , that you wanted to show the world that you were not fragile. That you were strong. Never surrender your strength, you treasure it enough to be proud of it. Showing pride, asking for your bravery to be acknowledged and even appreciated, is that not feminism? Ah,and you women say we men do not get feminism. I digress, feminism yes, I did sense that in you.When you say you love yourself enough to be happy, you say it with belief. It is your strength,that gives you that belief. So your strength should not be dispensed. Perhaps, this right now is the only ever time I could come close to melting your heart? If, not at least I tried. You took me to some brink and back, we talked, it was strange to me. I am sorry if I was awkward or weird. They say not to explore, but why then did god make us curious? Even if I dove so deep, have I not been real while reaching out to you, now?  Is this not a master piece I weaved right here?

 Moments like this I call beautiful, after long stretches of starvation, a moment of  clear, unmistakable, real emotion. I shall take a deep breath of it. Even a cosmonaut can afford a bit of attachment to home. Detachment is something we must all be comfortable with. Clinging on is something this life doesn't afford us. You must let go of things, understanding that if they are truly precious, you will find yourself back to them, time after time.You shall never find me again, but I shall find myself. I have found hope, it is not what I sought. But I will hold it close, as ever I have strength. My dear, it is time to bid farewell. My dear seems appropriate, my love seems for someone else to say. Goodbye, for the darkness I must set course again.

Why I support right to privacy laws

There have only ever been two kinds of lies spoken. Lies, such vibrant diverse creatures. And yet there are only two types. This is an irony, I couldn't help but observe. The first kind kind is used as means to distort and manipulate perception in the great social theater. The second is used as a mask to hide the secrets in the inner sanctum of our beings. The difference between the two is subtle, it is like the difference between murdering for motive, or murdering as self defense.

I often fabricate lies of the second type. Right to privacy laws offer my best chance to protect my precious secrets without resorting to lies. Of course the staunchest critic of such laws would argue with the classic, " If you have done no ill,  you have no reason to hide anything". But please understand, I do not hide to protect my mis-deeds. I hide because I don't want my most innocent and delicate thoughts to be out their in the great social circus, open for all to judge and discuss. I don't hide for shame, I hide from your judgement. Your cold cruel, caustic judgement which will lay my quirky, beautiful ideas to shame.

But years of hiding have taken it's toll, I feel so conscious, all the time  so wary of expression . I interpret the mildest gesture by someone to reach out to me, as an aggressive attempt to intrude upon my solitude and seclusion. With such an obsession, I cannot show myself even to those worthy of seeing me, those who do not seek to find me for personal amusement.