“The more radical the person is, the
more fully he or she enters into reality so that, knowing it better,
he or she can transform it. This individual is not afraid to
confront, to listen, to see the world unveiled. This person is not
afraid to meet the people or to enter into a dialogue with them. This
person does not consider himself or herself the proprietor of history
or of all people, or the liberator of the oppressed; but he or she
does commit himself or herself, within history, to fight at their
side.”
Coming down the Mountain.
So, writing again. Why not? Never had
a moment's peace in Saudi – couldn't continue with the online M.a.
at Athabasca University while there because downtime was crucial
socializing time – the only way to keep from going around the bend
completely. Who knew it would wind up being a drunk, stoned
rollercoaster – all the moreso because of theologically enforced
prohibition. Also, the course package for EDST 632 'Global
Education' seemed utterly absurd in the Saudi context.
Check out these beauty titles:
I skimmed the books on
several occasions. In a perfect world, some of what these people are
saying might make sense. In a perfect F*CKING world??!!! Have you
writers been paying any attention whatsoever??!!! Have you ever
traveled further than the end of your bloody block – or made a
circuit greater than school – home – school – shopping –
repeat? These texts are pedantic and almost entirely oriented to
North American perspectives, and even the bits that were trying to be
'inclusive' were like cucumber sandwiches double mayo'd on white
bread with the crusts cut off. Perhaps if I'd had more time for
contemplation and reflection from a purely theoretical point of view
(endless time to waste) I'd have been enthralled with the sagacity of
the writing in these texts. I know they're good people trying to
effect positive change from where they're situated, but these
privileged suburban authors helped make it impossible for me to
continue serious M.a. Studies from the ugly bloodstained trenches of
international EFL classrooms... Skimming these texts in Saudi was
like choking on ashes with dirt in the eyes. Totally absurd – try
teaching social justice and racial inclusiveness in elementary
English to Saudi technical college students – who choose HITLER
and SADDAM as team names because these are their HEROES!!!
Bloody hell.
[Saddam says]: Drop the BOMB, kill them all...
-Kurtz or Kurtzweil?
Why not do something productive for a
change? Write that novel/collection of short stories everyone's been
expecting you to turn out for decades. DECADES, MOTHERFUCKER!!!
Turn it into another opportunity to beat your head against the wall.
Why not, I'm clearly a bona fide sado-masochist. I must be after 13
years of expat life. I include the 2 years of living in Canada
recently, as I was hardly repatriated to the bizarre, civilized(?!!)
'Brave new World' before feeling the insatiable grip of need to get
the fuck out again. 'You're in Canada now Motherfucker'!! Right on,
Susan (Musgrave). And bloody hooray Alice Munroe. It's not that I
don't love the place – simply that I'm disgusted by what it's
turned into. The hypocrisy was always there, but never so
transparent as in recent years under the Harper administration. Lies
and dark secrets are the norm now in the Canadian government. The
greatest irony is that it's spread all over the front page, and there
hasn't been a bloody revolution!!! The unresolved 'Robocalls'scandal that was swept under the carpet and is no longer considered
'newsworthy' means that the election that put this scheister in power
was bogus anyway, and thus, Canada is no longer a democracy, but a
corporate technocratic dictatorship ruled by an oligarchy of
political and big business interests. Holy shit. This is what my
grandfather laid down his life for in WWII in the name of protecting
our nation? Thanks to the communications medium of the internet, the
number of people aware of this is greater than ever before – it's
up to like, 14!!! Including me mum's octogenarian miniature
poodle!!! Political manipulation and corruption have become
transparent to 'the masses'...but most people are unsure of how to
act on their outrage. Global collapse is an everyday household
phrase, and business plows on as if catastrophic climate change,
nuclear disaster, economic implosion, and the worst, most radical
income inequality in human history could be avoided by moving to an
agreeable climate in a peaceful (well regulated and policed) part of
the world. Pip, pip dahling, would you be a dove and pass the
bickies and cream. I do believe it's tea time again. The absurdity
of living in this time and space on our beautiful planet Earth almost
defies description!!!
Desert Rose – wonder how
much liquid is in those roots...
Home again, home again?
Home is where the heart is. An Omani,
a Bangladeshi, and two Pakistanis walk into your apartment and start
pulling up pipes in your bathroom. It's an altered scene from the
Hobbit when the dwarves show up at Bag End – only these are tall
skinny brown people in pajamas being very polite in broken English
before going to work banging and smashing away in the bathroom. No
joke. This happened to me 3 days ago. When building owner Musalem
gets back, there will be a reckoning. I haven't noticed anything,
but apparently, there's an issue with the pipes. If the pipe problem
is in my bathroom they'll have to tear up the floors. WHAT??!!!
Fuck that. I'm moving out – down to his property on the beach over
the cafe, Hell yeah. Beach view? Never in me life – would be like
Heaven in theory. Except – oops, it's being torn down by the Omani government to put in a new tourist attraction. Since nothing is paid for yet and local construction is legendary for sloth, it's likely this prime piece of heavenly real estate will remain a derelict shithole or pile of rubble lined street indefinitely. There goes my niche in paradise again. Nice potluck at Irish-Indian-Kiwi
Fiona's the other night – ground floor – sandy beach in Da'hariz
– beautiful - sliding glass doors right onto the beach. Surrounded by a black ghetto, but a low crime
neighborhood nonetheless. A 10 month lease means she's gotta move
out for the Khareef season and allow some rich Arabs to move their
families in and destroy the place over the Summer months (at double the normal rental prices). They
literally trash the place. Then 2 professional cleanings, and one
personal cleaning later, move back in. Not so bad for a relatively
inexpensive beachfront apartment with a gorgeous view the rest of the
year. Watch the mildew though – gets into everything in Salalah
during Khareef (June+July+August). It's not like I'm unaccustomed to
moving constantly – home today, gone tomorrow...who knows, might be
in Saudi again by Christmas – Jingle Hell, Jingle Hell, Jingle all
the waaaaaaaay... “Habalagumbeleh” (exploding camel shit
bombs)...
9:00 am. Office Thoughts.
Moodswings. Too much caffeine –
thank you red balls!! Easy man, get a grip. Another morning in
another office in another part of the world, drinking schite instant
coffee and visualizing lesson plans, listening to Lemmy crank out
'The World is Yours' and wondering why the hell I'm here. Window
full of palm trees in bright Arabic sunshine. Teaching has/have and
object/personal/possessive pronouns to low level English college
students. Since when do you go to college to learn basic English
grammar – and they're expected to be writing academic papers in
English after a year? Bollocks. Good Luck with that!! Falling
standards and lowered expectations. Omani students are enjoyable to
teach at least – with the odd exception (arrogant male students –
I had a mutiny today) - and my 'A level' class is relatively impressive
for having only been at it a year or two. There's less overt
disrespect like I experienced in Saudi. On another note for the
after hours office crew: There's no action here – no 'vibe' or
excitement in the air. That sense that anything is possible I get
striding fast downtown in Vancouver, Hongdae Seoul, Osaka, Byron Bay, or Victoria
on a busy Friday night. Even Jeju has a decent buzz of excitement in
the air on weekends. I met a Brazilian woman that utterly repulsed
me with her que sera attitude and sense of superiority, but her
thoughts on how it was safe to raise a family here were interesting
to hear. What's app? Call Deutscher in Vietnam and bail then. Thai
poon season. Well it's that or another season in the abyss of Arabic
non-existent social life. Lay low. Meditate. Haven't done a year-long cleansing meditation since 2002. Best thing on the radar is a trip to Bahrain
and getting smashed with the totally awesome fun metalheads of
Manamma. Ya'gottalove'em!! That and the red Honda Steed Chopper I'm stoked on tuning. (Not) throwing taxi money at Pakistani taxi drivers ought to pay off the bike completely – but
will I be here for a full year??? This uncertainty is delicious.
It inspires the 'don't give a fuck' bones essential to us contracted
disposable heroes. Seems I'm destined to deal with this in the
professional world – as a teacher, writer, cook, or musician. I'm
expendable. I can be used, wrung out, then thrown on the trash heap.
Oh yeah? So can you motherfucker – here's a knife at your throat
for your troubles... Whatev. Never bought a bike with the intention
of riding hard and selling it in ten months – or 3. If it's ripped
off by a Pakistani, I'm out 2grand – I see hungry eyes walking the
streets here. And I'll have to ride like hell to avoid accidents –
locals don't have much respect for bikes - thinking that'll be the
fun part – riding like a bat outta hell every day to avoid getting
crunched by A-holes in SUV's. Maybe carry a heavy 'Ghost Rider' chain to whack anyone gets too close for comfort. Fortunately the Steed is
hella loud – and I have a safe shortcut route across desert waste
to get to the college every day. Salalah is temporary...? The
longer I stay, the longer I'll stay – and there's nothing and
everything for me here. Go down to the coffee shop in the core and
hit on the beautiful Nepali girl the A-man seems keen to hook me up
with. “If I was single, that's what I'd be doing”. No doubt.
But you're not single, are you? You have a gorgeous Thai wifie here
in semi-permanent exile, and that's nice for you mate. Have you
considered the long term angle? Sure you're doing the right thing
buying that sailboat? There is a massive age gap here among teachers
– ages run from around 25-60!! The 30 year olds are still
relatively 'free' and I enjoy their company, identifying with the fresh vibes and audible chaos of constantly uncertain shifting futures. Some of the older teachers are classic expats, and
have their own kind of rough charm. I'm looking at finding a decent
balance of lifestyle and money. Emphasis is on the latter at this
point thanks to years of living well in Korea whilst paying off
student-debt leaving me dirt poor – I may return to Saudi again?!!
The 50-something crowd here is a little sad and desperate, God
love'em. Really nice, caring people, but driven to scramble for a
maximum-returns-life-in-Saudi-Arabia by the need for more $$$. Is
that where I'll be in a decade?!!! My future self is looking back
and telling me to get a bloody move on. Run like Hell. Who knows?
Relax, buddy, the world is over in 2 minutes. It's 2 minutes to
midnight again. It's a Fukushima death sentence for all, wheeeeeeeeee!!! FTW. WTF?? GTFO.
Again, again, AGAIN!!! 30 minutes to class, Indian economics
department office mates come in. What to do. GTFO out of FB!!!
Saudi cleric beats, rapes, and burns his 5 year old daughter to death
because he was concerned she wasn't a virgin, and gets off with a
light sentence - a 280,000 Riyal fine, 600 lashes, and 8 years in a
country club prison. There are (girly) lashes and there are (bosun's cat-O-nine-tails) LASHES –
wonder what kind he'll get. My visceral-gut-reaction: 'Fuck these
people'. This guy should get the same treatment he gave the little
girl. A brutal gang rape and torn open rectum sealed with a red hot burning poker. I've
been thinking I should go back to Saudi for the money. Fuck Saudi.
Any country that condones this kind of brutality lacks enlightenment. And still that oil $$$ beckons. So it is for most of the 'civilized' world in
that regard here in 2013 – corrupt leadership and absurd financial
cliffhangers. What a bloody mess. I've had CNN in the background on
an ancient 'Okia' television provided in my apartment as part of the
contractual deal here while I teach, surf the 'net, study, and
research, and it's been a deplorable psycho-dramatic soap opera of
late. The Saudi cops who danced naked on their car in Buraida got 5
years in prison, 2000 lashes, and a $10,000 fine. I thank God none
of these thobe-wearing, Allah fearing, Sunnah punishing dickheads are showing up at BC music festivals!! Jesus, that
really would be THE END. Is this not a serious argument
in favor of protecting our cultural borders?!!!
Camel Trucker.
THE END of Freedom and freedom of
choice as we know it. So why did I do a whole year in Saudi?!!
$5000/mo. Baby. Best money I've made teaching in my life, and I'm
still in the hole. Making $25,000/year in S.Korea for a decade was
the lifestyle choice of a lifetime – aaaaaaand that's why you're
still broke. What would be considered poverty wages in Canada you
can live like a king on in Asia. Best times ever, aaaaaaand you're
poor. This guy 'Wandering Earl' has some really interesting ideas
about how to live permanently on the road. I'm impressed with his
getting into Yemen and chewing qat with the locals, and reporting
about it so honestly on the blog. He's a character. We're located just a few hours' drive from the Yemen border here in Salalah, and while many talk about how it would be cool to travel there - and there is talk of ancient seaside cliff towers - the conversation usually turns to how there are also border guards who will take you off into the desert to be murdered for a kickback. This article strongly reminded me to be on my guard while living here. Salalah is peaceful and sleepy, but conservative in the Islamic sense, and full of (dodgey) expats from all over. The wandering Earl also inspired me to consider making a little side-money on the web. I've put a little advertising here. TheKosmicNexus is meant to be an extension of the nexus of
my mind, body and soul in cyberspace – and a connection to the
'spirit' of cyberspace itself – the 'ghost in the shell' on
multiple levels of simultaneous evolutionary interface – and is
rather personal – so I'm generally against the use of advertising. I probably won't make a dime, but you never know. Maybe I'll
make a few bucks.
How does one live in Canada now? Unless you're already rich? Work
yourself to death>? Most people are clinging to the edge of a
high cliff with stiff fingers that are constantly being crushed and
lifted off one-by-one-by-one-by household debt and plethoras of
payments. In order to let go and take flight with angel's/demon's(?)
wings you've got to first figure out a way to get the splinters of
compound interest out from under your fingernails, jackknife and
tweezers gripped in a free hand, whilst the other clings to the cliff
under the weight of a bankers' boot. Got a few switchblades now and
I'm about ready to cut the motherfuckers leg off!! Don't worry mate,
it's just a metaphor... Seems like every time I get out of debt,
it's time to upgrade the education and spend another 10-40 grand in
the name of 'professional development'. Yeah, right. Not anymore
mate. I'm finished with your BS post secondary education scam.
Nothing more you can teach me I can't teach myself... I'm as much an
asset here as any of your Phd's, who are welcomed in to stand at the
front of a room full of educators and say 'none of you is qualified
to be here' like it's not the biggest load of horseshit ever to come
out of a person's mouth. So you can focus on text, analyze data,
schmooze it with the tenured staff, and put up with mountains of BS –
that's what it takes to make it through grad school baby. Good for
you. You might even have a portion of true genius, who knows?
Anyone who's got that sheepskin from a reputable university has my
respect for what it took. But the greatest of my qualifications come
from places beyond rational comprehension. Spend a few precious
minutes talking with me in the right place at the right time under
the right circumstances and you may understand. I have had direct
insight of the unknowable, incomprehensible beyond. You can see it
in my eyes if you look closely. Intuition persists. The paradox
of everything and nothing is wound up in subatomic particle physics
around the DNA helix at the core of my body/soul like a constantly
healing evolving double headed snake, a burning flame in the darkness
of a spiritual landscape beyond the written/spoken language of man.
I've seen things - and I'm not the only one. At the risk
of quoting some demonic entity from a Hollywood movie, we are legion!!! A titanic ego that lives in the constant utter absence of
ego, I am. Paradox. Oblivion. Ecstasy. The piper at the gates of
dawn, outside and beyond time and space – playing scales of sweet
delight on a guitar made of purest manifest thought, shed of all
pretense. I might come crawling back for that sheepskin at some
point so I can get the cushy university gig in Korea. (???!!) Bad
joke – no punch line...? Is this some kind of wind up to savage
lurid tales of entheogenic drug frenzy nights? Boogie Nights? Nights on Broadway?!! Why yes, yes it is...
I'll be telling a few hair raising tales of ribaldry from Saudi and Bahrain soon... What
a long strange trip it's been...
Full on...ship of night...Grateful Dead...Above and Beyond...Event Horizon...and then? Another morphing moment savor sublime segue stretch and you arrive at yourself – in peace and happiness – and all is well...for an infinite transient time of hope and bliss...
Full on...ship of night...Grateful Dead...Above and Beyond...Event Horizon...and then? Another morphing moment savor sublime segue stretch and you arrive at yourself – in peace and happiness – and all is well...for an infinite transient time of hope and bliss...
-Grayson.
SELECT DESERT SONGS FOR
WEARY TRAV'LERS AND SPIRITUALLY ENLIGHTENED BEINGS OF HUMOR AND
LIGHT, PART I.
MUSIC IS HARAM. Grayson, 2012 –
A7 Ska.
Music is haram!!
Music is haram!!
Camel, camel trucker.
Camel, camel trucker.
Oooooh yeah, camel fucker.
Music is haram!!
Every morning, camel milk.
Every morning, smooth as silk.
Every morning, sucking eggs.
Hard boiled wonderland, is my life!!
Haramco!! Haramco!! Music is
Haramco!!
King Abdullah and Caffeine (and Thayne?!!!) – are my
masters!!
Disasters, circumvent. Contingency.
Running HOT.
Time and Space. Blues from a Gun.
My camels. On the Run.
Out in the desert. The Universe.
A grain of sand. Plastic penguins.
Drowning sorrows, across the land.
Haramco!! Haramco!! Music is
Haramco!!
Beware of CEO!! Music is Haramco!!
Camel, camel trucker.
Camel, camel fucker.
Black fusion, Earth and Soul.
Go faster, you never know!!
Music is Haramco. Let's GO!!!
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