Au Cochonnet Marin

Americans seem to hate silence. They think that expressing fondness for quietude is akin to worshiping the devil, or at least indicates a suspicious sign of anti-American activity.

Everybody in North America knows that silence is the devil’s workshop.
To avoid temptation and prevent one’s mind from wandering (meditating), every passing minute has to be buttressed with noise.

Just like in Islamic madrasas, American youth is required to learn by rote idiotic, often-gross lyrics without ever questioning their meaning.
Memorize and repeat after me. But above all, don’t think; just immerse yourself in noise.

Be it in the street, in restaurants, on television, noise is ever present. And the louder the better.
I suspect that even when making love Americans need noise, or at least a beat to successfully conclude their business.

Every minute of our lives we are assaulted by noise and sometimes we feel an urgent need to escape that infernal environment.

When I feel murderously perturbed by this incessant hammering, I head for the Las Gallinas Valley Sanitary district.
This oasis is located as the name indicates next to a water treatment plant and some of the treated water feeds several large ponds inhabited by a wide variety of wildlife.

The first thing that you notice upon arrival at the site is the sound of silence.
It is heavenly quiet with the stillness broken occasionally by the cries of some low flying geese.

The trails around the ponds are scarcely populated. They are mainly frequented by nature lovers often equipped with binoculars or cameras.
From the trails, you can observe ducks, Canadian geese, pelicans, swans, egrets and a multitude of smaller birds.
They all share the same ponds without any apparent sign of conflict.

Disseminated around the trails you will find a few benches, allowing you to rest and fully enjoy the splendor of nature and the scrumptious sound of silence.
Sitting on one those benches you can observe the aerial ballet of scores of seagulls.

Unlike larger birds seagulls seem to enjoy crisscrossing the sky with no apparent purpose. Ducks, geese and pelicans are more business oriented and fly in orderly fashion.

When you need to recharge your batteries, like a WWII submarine, surface in the Las Gallinas Valley Sanitary district waters.
While running your air air-breathing diesel engine, fill your lungs with oxygen and your head with high-octane silence.
You will feel rejuvenated believe me!

Alain, aka Le Balafré

PS: you can click on a picture to see it full size

 

Nothing annoys me more than the sight of a rich-and-famous chick strutting in a pair of tattered jeans.

First it looks extremely scruffy, and you cannot help but wonder about her personal hygiene.
A young woman who runs around in ripped jeans projects the image of  “une petite fille qui se néglige” (a little girl who neglects herself).
And Hollywood is ripe with stories of famous people whose flawed body hygiene has sent many running for cover.
Elizabeth Taylor once famously said, “Money is the best deodorant”, but money often fails to deflect unwanted public attention.

But much worse than the sanitation issue, is the perceived attitude.
Yes, I make oodles of money, but I also enjoy slumming.
Money is not important to me. And my ripped jeans show that just like you (the nothing little people) I am a minimalist who does not bother with a lot of clothes.
As a matter of fact, most of the time I go braless and pantyless.

Well, a pair of ripped jeans can cost up to $300.00 and attention-seeking celebrities are not shy about shelling that amount to lure camera flashes.

The famous people who opt to wear rags make the deliberate decision to shock in order to be noticed.
Look at me, I am pretending to be a loser (like you), but in reality (unlike you), I am filthy rich and I thumb my nose at you.

Flaunting a pair of ripped jeans in Hollywood is like is like wearing a gold watch in a ghetto.
Two similarly very distasteful extremes.

If you are blessed with a large income, you are morally bound to show good taste and restraint.
Can you picture for a minute Kate Middleton in a pair of ripped jeans?
I can’t, and I don’t imagine for a minute that the Queen or the British people would approve it.

So, if you are lucky enough to be rich and famous, don’t insult the rest of us by taking a perverse pleasure in parading in rags.
If poor people came into money, they surely would show better sense than swaggering in hand-me-downs.

Alain