Where There Were No Doors

Follow your bliss and doors will open where there were no doors before - Joseph Campbell

Monday, January 31, 2005


"Bloody pothead!"

That has never been yelled at me by an ex-girlfriend as she slammed the door behind her and walked purposefully out of my life. But I often feel that - by this point - it really should have been. The trouble is, I'm just too amiable; and ex-girlfriends have never walked out to the sound of a slammed door. Well, except K, but that was because the door had this wonky handle that meant you had to lift up the latch and slam it really hard to get it to close. So I don't really count that.

In fact for me the "being dumped" process has always involved long periods of a strange indeterminate status that seemed to entail being "officially" not together, but actually doing everything exactly the same as before. Up to and including living together for a further six months... which was weird. But also, in retrospect, the right thing to do at that particular time. Sometimes people know it's time to move on, but need a little time to gather the energy to do it.

Which has what exactly with being a "bloody pothead". Well, nothing actually. I just wandered off on a bit of a tangent is all. I'm apt to do that.

But I am a bloody pothead. I know this. These days, even when I'm not smoking pot, I'm still clearly a pothead. I'm The Dude from The Big Lebowski but with petrogeology and theoretical physics instead of bowling and Julianne Moore. It can be a heady state of being at times, let me tell you. I was a pot smoker back when I was doing the whole high-powered corporate thing, but it was only after I fucked off that perfectly good career in favour of being an amiable man that I truly became a pothead.

I tell you this apropos of nothing. Merely another nugget of information to allow you to better understand the perspective this blog is coming from.

And hopefully - just like the United Nations post - it will also wind up the right wing nutters who stumble across this place. Either through the Next Blog button, or via the links from the comments section of a number of right-wing blogs that I've just spent an hour and a half commenting on. I mean, I'm an amiable guy... but there are limits!


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