Is it a yoga thing?

Anyway what do you need a guru for? I mean, wouldn’t an accountant be more useful. Did you really mean to be ironic? Are you laughing at me for taking it seriously; believing that you of all people could ever do such a thing? Is it a yoga thing?

Drinking a slow pint of bitter, sitting at the bar, alone, thinking. Alone and thinking. Was this going to be my life from now on? Later the guys would drift in, the place would become crowded, but they might all have things sorted out, things to do and I will sit here with the last two millimetres of bitter thoughts at the bottom of the glass. The dregs. Alone and with an endless line of empty streets waiting for me. You self-pitying bastard.

Why couldn’t I play the role of Allende, alone in the presidential palace, with the gun in my hand, waiting for the pimp Pinochet to walk in. Now that would be something. Shoot myself or shoot you.

Who would have believed that Friedman’s crackpot ideas would infiltrate and take over the mainstream economic thinking. Plunging us back into the dark ages. Only a few short years after drawing breath from surviving the madness of nazism, the maddened frenzy of one demented Austrian, the next Austrian was waiting in line in Chicago proselytising and persuading others that his own brand of crackpot madness was ready to drag us all back down once more. There must be something in us which is drawn to some apocalyptic fire or other. Who cares as long as millions are bewitched and enfolded in the vision and millions die.

Well what do you expect me to think about, sat at the bar here alone?

She might be home now. We could talk. Exchange news. Like the old days. The old days before the guru. The old days, about a month ago to be precise. Things could be worse. I’ve still got a job. And there’s the blog to write. Somebody might have posted a comment. And it’s her turn to cook the supper.

Hi, John, yeah, couldn’t be better, and you, yeah I’ve got to be getting back, so busy, you know how it is, yeah right we’ll have to catch up. I’ll give you a ring.