Saturday, April 7, 2012


Intense sensations of good will have invaded my spirit. Not like a sumami, but like those tube waves surfers love to go under while keeping their balance from one end to the other.. It is the power of quiet and silence only broken by the white young lesbian guachiman in her four track vehicle doing her rounds in Universidad Sagrado Corazon, riding it like she is in Daytona at the most unusual times.

This week has been one of my best in recent times, I feel less misanthropic than normal, a strange,  something is fine every once in  a while.  Perhaps the 50 milligrams of the high blood medication also helps.

Puerto Rico is still mostly Catholic and it shows. It feels like I am in  another world. Most people have kept themselves inside their homes or the crowded, dirty, noisy beaches so many compatriots enjoy blindly, robot, sheep like.

What with the world be like if in every city, cars, vehicles, people stopped chatting for 48 hours?  The pollution and waste eliminated,  the globe just a drop in the ocean, but what a feeling!
NOT all has been peaches and cream.  The weather jerks announced rain for the week, which would have made this hell more of a paradise.  Not one drop.

 I have always kept my doubts about this celebration with a religious tilt.  It is just, in my eyes, another way to sell Easter bunnies, like Mothers/Fathers Day, Thanksgiving, Saint Valentine, Halloween, Christmas and any other you may suggest, are to buy and sell something.  Who cares?  The quiet is worthy of whatever reason.

Perhaps the most difficult to digest, is that story of a poor guy betrayed by the treasurer of his conclave, to be tortured and nailed 
to a cross for 'our' sins.  Resurrected after some time.

It is  a nice story but I prefer Jason and the Argonauts.  The terrible,   truth, about all this myth is that in principle all is honky dory. However, with the advent of the Church, the original one,
Catholic, that is,  millions of people have been killed/burned/jailed because, like I, there were doubts about the scheme and rules written in the book of books.

If there is only one God, why 3/4/5/6 religions call it their own, each with a different holy  book or roll of paper, with different or similar laws, rules and interpretations of it.  It is much wider than a comparative literature course.

Each religion with their accepted gastronomy and rules to kill or sacrifice the victims, ways to bake bread, no meat with cheese and so on. A real kaleidoscope of rituals.  Every member of each religion thinking and believing he/she has the truth grabbed by the tail, heaven coming next.

This week would have been perfect. The unusual Monday quietness and lack of luminary contamination in Sagrado Corazon University, (since they are closed),  has been ruined by the Dominicans handy men, yellow belly bastards if you ask me. These undesirables,  have been ruining the week with their power tools in a couple of houses. 

One is next door, Blondie's, who is president of the residents board converting her house into a four apartment bed and breakfast, with  problems like the Gaudi Cathedral, still unfinished after a century. I wonder what is wrong with the two jerks doing the restoration. How can these jerks take two years to do what could be done in six months?
Why would the younger one buy a pick truck like a war tank providing ten miles a gallon?

The other house, was recently bought by a sad looking , jaw less attorney. Some time ago is  was converted to nine apartments.  Imagine for a moment my quality of life in the near future. Thirteen apartments in two houses. The noise from the certain riff raff renting around here is going to be a pain in  the ass, not to get into the street parking, with 4 junked cars at the moment.

The Holy Week is the best of times in  Puerto  Rico.  If you have the required virtues. Enjoying Gregorian chants, meditation, humility, ability to fast, to keep a vow of silence, an urge for quiet, solitude, peace and nature, even if just a simple plant in a clay pot to keep you aware.  We are nothing without air, water and food.

But everything has to end. Only 36 hours left of this recharging joy.
I will stay away in my little, most documented paradise, happy as a clam, listening to my Gregorian chants. All is nice, except when I hear the voices, power tools of the undesirable, mentioned creatures and the pasty lesbian in the four track.

That is that. 

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