Because we want to believe,even in the face of seismic events of horrific proportions, Haiti, or the ultimate uncertainties in our own lives. We want to believe so hard, and not just with our rational side in order to make up our minds, we exercise every scrap of our imaginations too. Self-intoxication.
Intoxicated with the world one way or another. India… beauty… pleasures… and equally the downsides… the irritancies, and the unpleasant… even illness… and natural disasters… and violence… violence, and conflict of course.
Like provocative WHITE SPACE, too much thinking rushing around, or too much noise, like 'border blasting' religions.
'My guess is somebody slipped his machine a micky-finn', Uncle Wally said, as we squatted down at the roadside together trying to work out the best route for the day. I nodded, that WHITE SPACE. 'Out of order', Uncle Wally continued.
Out of order – also a South London term for somebody or something overstepping the mark, and implying a sharp correction about to follow: Uncle Wally, normally so quiet and peacable, but when an angry man, swift and to the point, the sword of judgement.