In-boxes and occupations
Going through my inbox of mostly e-mails from Sydney and Adelaide is a daily treat I must say. There is something excoriatingly delicious about receiving ‘local’ news from a distance, such as the good fight against the ridiculous corruption of my postgrad association, and the ongoing epic discourses between my old band mates from the Wyld Stallyns from the Planet of Regret. I had totally forgotten about that line in ‘Discoursin’ in the Dark’ that goes, “I wanna change my gaze, my prose, my stare!”, as well as the third verse that was penned upon the death of Jacques Derrida (not to be confused with the WSFTPOR’s drummer, Little Bobby Derrida).
These gems of familiarity are all the more delightful in the midst of the aforementioned smelly teenage boys and their cowboy forebears, who are slowly coming round to the fact that they currently have a ‘no-tail’ among them. The sixteen year old guy who runs this place and I even had a little banter this morning about how I always forget my code. Such things make quite the difference in my day, as I am currently engaged in a Beckettesque waiting game for commencing my countryside tour of duty. It’s ‘Setembro Vermelho’ (Red September) in the MST universe. There are daily occupations of banks, government offices and of course land, and Jose Rainha Jnr has been released from prison (again). Coming as I do from a culture of utter apathy towards the political, it continually amazes me that events like this are a completely normal part of the social landscape in Brazil.