“His response was to fight it with the only weapons at hand—passive resistance and open displays of contempt.” ― Kurt Vonnegut, The Sirens of Titan
I have no desire to be the next Ba’al Shem Tov, though I love his message in a post millenial way. Herbs, laying on of hands, Messianic mayhem- who can’t love such a covenant scoffing messiah?
But my narrative problem arises somewhere between piku’ach nefesh, and that other Yiddish thing- so many Yiddish things.
I mean- who decides what is truly profane- what is existentially challenging versus simply profitable? And, if it profits a man…? And what about when it’s a woman, profiteering?
These are my questions. But they don’t end there- I also wonder why Dr. White was in my life. Why Dr. White advised as he did, in regards to my long term prospects as what-? A challenge to order? Chaos against it? Or merely a counterbalance against Jewish narratives that have become genocidal in many regards?
And then- Don Tyrell?
My mother- a shiksa bride, hanged herself from a tree after doing 77 miles per hour, and failing to round her own Dead Mans Curve, like her hero James Dean.
I have been left hanging ever since- was it because I had promised to visit her that weekend? Because I knew she needed to outgrow her childhood secrets?
Or- did she just like speed? I am left hanging….but not dead.