We are forever painting our heroes as fearless crusaders who never doubted themselves or their mission. We like our heroes who take stands against tyrannical popes and despotic kings. We like our heroes who declare, "Here I stand... so help me God!" Truth was, no such heroes exist. So we recreate ourselves into micro-heroes planting flags on the moon and declaring our place in the blogosphere. Everything we say is footnoted by endless quotations from "the authorities" and is thus unquestionable and near-inerrant. We forget the reluctance of Luther when deciding to nail the 95 Theses on the Wittenberg Castle Church Door. We forget that here was a man who'd wish more than anything to preserve the intensely private nature of religion rather than to be called to take sides or make stands. We forget his shaking knees and sweaty palms when he was confronted by the church authorities and he had to say softly (not declare proudly - as popular caricatures would have us believe) that : "I cannot and will not retract". But then we live in the world where strongmen have all died and weak-idiots have risen to the stand - declaring that whoever does not stand with us is supporting terrorism. We live in uncertain times where people prefer to "choose a side" and retain their identity than to be fluid and exult in the parts (fuck the whole, who knows it anyway?). Perhaps the real reason I do not choose a side is because I'm not smart enough to choose a side? I cannot see the whole - only the parts, always. And I exult in that. Perhaps I do not choose a side because (sneaky devil that I am), I'm really smarter (at least more honest, if you'll allow me that) than all those pretenders who do choose sides and take stands. Perhaps I'm trying desperately to be consistent with my Creed-of-Inconsistency ("Consistency Is The Hobgoblin Of Little Minds")? Or perhaps I just want to be left alone (at least for the time being) to sort out my life, my finances, my fucked-up family life, my time-management, my career, my further studies, my sanity, my struggle to find some cheer in these gloomy times?One more time: If you're uncomfortable with the denizens of Jeremiah Blues and our lack of a *position*, well, the simple message is this: NOBODY ASKED YOU TO COME.
While we were performing the excruciating operation (all in the name of Science, mind you), a particular voice was heard from the Fourth Dimension: "You must choose a side... You must choose a side... You must choose a side...". It was horrifying. I thought that I was losing my mind. La Tey was hurrying me but that disembodied voice continued its baleful chant: "You must choose a side... You must choose a side... You must choose a side...". What was I to do? I was stuck between the proverbial rock and a hard place (if you must know). La Tey's sensitive ears were able to detect the source of that voice. "It's coming from Germany... There's no mistaking the Lutheran tinge in her voice!", La Tey screamed while lying flat on the operation table. I refuse to be distracted by that unholy chant and proceeded with my delicate operation. All in the name of Science (and for the furtherance of Pltypus' artistic developments). La Tey was relieved (in more ways than one) that the package was delivered into the waiting hands (gloved, as well) of Pltypus. What can I say? I'm at least thankful that Pltypus did not request the Boxed-Set DVDs for all 10-Seasons of "Friends"!!! La Tey suggested that we look for the source of the German voice and use her as our "carrier" the next time. Seeing the wisdom in his words, I heartily agreed. "Either her or the Reformanda prick from SIN! With the Reformanda, I'll even throw in my Led Zeppelin Boxed Set, my Bettie Page posters, the complete works of St. Augustine and the Amazing Spider-Man Omnibus!" But that's nothing really. When the members of The SS were all in Form 2, we were known to carry Micro-Genius Consoles within our bodies all the way to Jay-Bee to take part in a gang-bang involving Catholic boys, tubes of Bat-Lube, AC/DC three-way plugs and mutated-mutha trying to pass off as sweet sixteen year olds in the Holiday Plaza disco. One time, a dog came along. I hid in the video arcades until the whole thing was over. The Christine Keeler-Profumo tapes were bursting my guts and I walked around like a 14-year old hernia patient. Asia Argento walked past and said something about "Boarding Gate". I trembled and dropped my package there and then. La Tey wasn't with us then. He was a good boy reading sci-fi novels and R. A. Torrey books while going to JYF. That was 1989-90. Pltypus (then known as Icarus) was still planning his exit from an evil organizating targetting the impressionable minds in campuses from Jakarta to Manila. But he was getting restless and started planning his exit and how he was going to hide those fascimile editions of the "Treasury of David" within his (then-)virginal body. Legends abound concerning the role that a mysterious Stephen Daedalus played in his deflowering (scholars are still debating whether the "flights of fancy" of Daedalus and Icarus in Ovid's account are to be taken literally or like all Western literature, was really about sex!). Last I heard this story was from the Cendol-Man at Jalan Engan in Bee-Pee. For some unexplained reasons, the Cendol-Man upgraded his small stall into a large shop recently (was he bribed? threatened, maybe? hmmm... Screwtape smells a conspiracy... among other things...) Here we are now in 2008, alternating between Sting's "Jeremiah Blues", classics from Rock Nusantara, books featuring Pentaksub Karate, some revisionist theology/history, mucking it up with SIN fundies and largely having the time of our lives...