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    hardie karges 7:49 am on August 8, 2008 Permalink | Reply
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    Immaculate Conception my ass; 


    more like Brilliant Idea on Mary’s part, I reckon. Joseph never went to Thailand, so he doesn’t know how this works. Somebody else has all the fun and he gets stuck with the bill. The poor guy didn’t even have money for a camel. I guess the Romans didn’t let much military technology get into the hands of Jews right about then. I guess they were still a novelty then, too. Camels were the last major animal to be domesticated. Ancient Egypt didn’t have them. Muhammad did. I digress. A massage girl did that to me once, a good girl mind you, not a prostitute. Well, she cozies up to me all of a sudden as if it were waiting to happen all along. For better or worse, I had to leave the country within the week, so no time to get serious (Th. see liat), put it in the oven and set the timer. Well, when I got back a couple months later, she was round as a beach ball. Judging the dates, I’d saw she definitely knew she was pregnant when she all of a sudden became attracted to me. What kind of protection do you wear against this?

     
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    hardie karges 7:45 am on August 7, 2008 Permalink | Reply
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    Asians love the past 

    and the things they have no control over, like family, DNA. Asia loves the past, and so tries to bury it under fresh concrete. The things you love are a heavy burden; they hold you back. Westerners love the future, freedom, and choice. So we preserve the past in art and architecture; otherwise we’d have none. Our families are scattered and strewn, battered and blown, by dare and design, by work and quirk. The reasons don’t always rhyme. My wife Tang doesn’t understand that we don’t have ‘homelands’, a place of birth with an extensive nuclear family radiating outward. Hell, we don’t even have a word for it. It took me ten minutes to think of ‘homeland’ and now I feel like an apartheid sympathizer. The only thing radiating outward from our nuclear families is fallout. The only part of the US that’s similar is the Deep South, with its second and third cousins twice removed. In Thailand it’s not just feudal; it’s Biblical. A few years ago before Thailand got fully off its butt and on to its computerized system, everyone had to go back ‘home’ to vote, that is, back to from where they came, like Joseph and Mary going home for Christmas, riding a donkey, carrying somebody else’s baby.

     
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    hardie karges 7:34 am on August 6, 2008 Permalink | Reply
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    Thai waitresses will ask you if you want more beer 

    when the bottle’s empty, not the glass you’re drinking from. That’ll help you lose count, for sure. I still can’t figure out what that final cube of ice riding on top of the glass is for, I guess to clean your upper lip so that nothing suspicious drips into the glass. It’s hard to drink with an ice cube up your nostril, though there it is, every time. The East loves conformity and predictability every bit as much as the West loves diversity and individualism. In Thailand audiences clap when a performer begins a song, and usually know every word that comes out of the human jukebox’s mouth. Only in a large show would a performer be expected to do a set of his own choosing. Thai ‘artists’ delight in reproducing a picture in its exact detail as if a human camera, while most non-representational work looks stiff and forced, derivative, that is, copied. To copy from a photograph would evoke abject horror in any art class in the Western world. In the Night Bazaar in Chiang Mai, they take center stage.

     
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    hardie karges 8:02 am on August 5, 2008 Permalink | Reply
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    In Thailand sheets go on top of the bed, 


    so you can find them, I guess. Or maybe they’re just proud of them, especially if there’s two. It’s hard to find a matching set. That’s no problem for hotels; they just use basic white and forego the contoured edges. For domestic use, the set is usually a contoured sheet and a matching blanket. The blanket usually gets folded on the end of the bed. Why do you need a blanket in Thailand in the first place? Hey, it gets cold up here in the Triangle! Actually it DOES get cool for a few months in the winter, cold enough that you’re glad to see it go. There’s no house heat, remember. Of course, if I turn on the fan at night, then Tang’s deep under the covers, while I’m on top of it all, crack to the breeze.

     
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    hardie karges 8:25 am on August 4, 2008 Permalink | Reply
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    In Thailand refrigerators are more like crispers, 


    coolers, or cupboards than food preservation devices. Potato chips go straight into the refrigerator, while fresh eggs might never. Tang and her son Jeng frequently eat something sweet before a meal, following up with potato chips afterward. Leftovers go straight into the pie-safe (remember those? Neither do I, but all my exes were antique buffs), never a fridge. Did I mention that Tang had TB when I met her? I’ve accused her of looking for a Farang to take care of her family after her imminent death, but she denies it. Fortunately, with Farangs come cures. I spent one hour on the Internet and correctly diagnosed what three Thai doctors had missed. She’s now had enough AIDS tests to last a lifetime, though. Thais like easy answers, magic pills that cure everything, at once and forever.

     
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    hardie karges 8:48 am on August 3, 2008 Permalink | Reply
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    Thai DJ’s play a song on the radio, and then repeat it. 

    Somehow that seems to ensure that you’ll not be able to get it out of your head, short of psychological or divine intervention. This is like subtle brainwashing, though for no apparent benefit nor reason, just an unwillingness to say, “it’s over”. My wife Tang will go to a party of her friends, mostly fellow ‘wives of foreigners’, and not only will it typically last at least half the day, but they’ll move it somewhere else the next day. Talk about a moveable feast! There’s just no proportion to much of their activities and little sense of partaking of diversity in little doses regularly. Tang’s father will stop at a soymilk stall on the way home and buy a liter or two for four people and it will be gone within hours if not minutes. If I do the same, it’ll last a week or so. Refrigeration is still a relatively new concept, and though appreciated for its chilling esthetic enhancement, is little thought of as a way to delay the spoilage of food. Don’t even think about putting a real dairy product in a Thai person’s coffee. ‘Cream’ is a white powder that comes in a can.

     
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    hardie karges 7:37 am on August 2, 2008 Permalink | Reply
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    In Thailand, you’re supposed to leave your shoes outside, 


    a religious thing to be sure, but also presumably to keep the floors inside clean.  Of course, as just mentioned, sometimes it’s difficult to know just where ‘outside’ begins. I’ve had the maid follow me down the hallway with a mop in some guest houses because I didn’t remove my shoes at the steps, whereas elsewhere that would be absurd. Once inside, if footwear is needed, you’ll need another pair, usually something slippery, rubbery, in the bathroom. This is not so bad if weather necessitates nothing more than sandals on a typical day. Why all the fuss, though, for something considered low, therefore dirty, anyway? Tang frequently throws things on the floor for the morning sweep rather than bother with trash baskets, which I’ve had to introduce. Nevertheless, leave the hiking boots at home, though cowboy boots aren’t bad, since non-laceable, and do work well with motorcycles, especially if you’re riding a fully-chopped 100cc Honda and want to facilitate the pretense.

     
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    hardie karges 8:00 am on August 1, 2008 Permalink | Reply
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    Thailand is a fairy tale, a children’s story, a parallel reality, 

    a mirror image where everything is the opposite of the ‘real world’. In Thailand most houses are surrounded by a permanent fence with a lockable gate. In Thailand, when you’re home the gate usually stays closed to keep you from slipping out unbeknownst to anyone. When you’re gone, of course, the gate is usually wide open. “We’re gone now; y’all come on in! Be sure to leave us cab fare!” In defense of the ‘at home’ system, the entire yard could be seen as an extension of the house, so that those doors can be left open, but that negates any defense of the ‘we’re gone’ system. In Thailand, people will enter a house unannounced, also, particularly friends, but will usually respect a closed gate. Tang says it keeps the salesmen at bay.

     
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    hardie karges 8:58 am on July 31, 2008 Permalink | Reply
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    Along the lines of good ‘conspiracy theory’, 

    or maybe the ‘world of opposites’ like ‘The Matrix’ or ‘Vanilla Sky’ or ‘Truman Show’, maybe SE Asia doesn’t even really exist at all. Maybe this is all a set-up and my vitals are being monitored for their responses to given stimuli or my body’s in cold storage somewhere and I’m just being fed images for continuity while my brain’s working nights doing basic computing for NASA. How would we ever know anymore? A lot is taken on faith these days. You step on a plane, pop some Valiums, cop some ZZZZ’s, and the next thing you know you’re going through Customs at Bangkok International. It’s almost as if the intervening space wasn’t even really crossed. You just entered a time-and-space machine and came out again a day later out the other end of a long wormhole. No one takes the long surface route anymore, so how would you know? The fact that we’re losing touch, literally, with the very earth under our feet makes stories of conspiracy and ‘misplaced reality’ not only feasible, but attractive, especially to the disenchanted. Conspiracy theory is more of a danger than conspiracy itself. Conspiracy lurks around every corner. Conspiracy theory follows a logic that attempts to transcend the ordinary, but there’s a logic that transcends conspiracy, i.e. produce the evidence.

     
  • Unknown's avatar

    hardie karges 8:49 am on July 30, 2008 Permalink | Reply
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    Thank God for other people’s parents and kids, 

    families made to order and marriages of inconvenience. If I had to start from scratch, I might just change my mind. The itch is strong, but it doesn’t last too long. An empty table might be like looking at a plate too full for eating, a battle too long for fighting. Before it’s over, you forgot why you were there in the first place. One way or another we make ends meet, odds and ends meeting in lines and bars and open spaces, under covers and dirty drawers and filthy files. The world has a life of its own, born in a swirl of open equations and feeding on the dreams of its spurious offspring. We patch things together the best we can, a quilt born of necessity, cozy and warm and infinitely expandable. Male and female find each other with biological radar, hormones and pheromones mixing and mingling on the dance floor. The smell of future sex wafts outward on wobbly legs and uncertain feet, soon cracking the code and catching the rhythm, doing the latest steps without effort nor affectation, a honeybee revealing the source of available nectar. Don’t look down when you’re learning to fly.

     

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