Trivial Pursuit

While I washed the dishes,
Kanye West asked me:
Do I know what it means to find my dreams?

In my dreams I’m lost
within place I know
that aren’t quite themselves.

I kiss girls I haven’t seen
in ten years, acquaintances
who might have been lab partners.

In my dreams I fly
sometimes, though often
my limbs move like pasta in pudding.

My dreams are a vibrant mush,
the scraps of the day’s meals
and rescrubbed spots

that wash off my mind’s
plates and forks,
then spiral down the drain.

So, Kanye, if you follow me,
my question is:
Where do my dreams go once the dishes are clean?

The Stranger

Her accent grated the words. She smiled, but it only made her look stupider. Do I sound like that? I understood what she wanted to say, and I understood the bored-looking woman at the register, but it’s always easier to get it when they’re not talking directly to you.

I bet she imagined foreign worlds, exotic flashes like movie trailers, but now she was in it. Deep. Treading, and realizing that even buying a sandwich could be daunting. I pointed to the electronic read-out next to the register. That was my trick when I didn’t understand how much money they’d asked for. I could have just told her in English, but I don’t want to be the foreigners talking to each other in their language.

We left the supermarket and passed a group of young guys. I avoided gazes, though back home I’d look them in the eyes. One guy approached us. He asked something, probably for a cigarette or a light, but neither of us understood.

He didn’t care that we both shook our heads “no.” He kept talking, walking next to us. I felt stripped. Vulnerable. I wanted to shove him. Drive elbows into his face. We kept walking until he lost interest and went back to his friends.

Ancient History, Baby

At a certain point, the past and future become opposite in the way we understand them. That is, we see the prehistoric past only through its effects, what’s left behind, while we grasp at the future by its causes. Obvious. But it’s not the case for all of the past, because the historic past can be equally understood in cause and effect, even more so than the present. So on an understanding timeline we have “effect” in prehistory, “cause and effect” in history and present, and, with “effect” starting to thin in present, we are left with “cause” in the future.

I’m not sure why I’m thinking of this, or what it does for me. Maybe a reminder that time is subjective to the observer. That human observation begets understanding, and that understanding is founded by cause and effect. Or it could be an exercise in searching for symmetry, patterns – another foundation of understanding. I also like to think of human understanding as a big bang: exploding into the past and future, searing into mystery just as matter did into nothingness.

Megalith

This is a megalith. I think it was for wedding ceremonies, but lots of people have lots of ideas about what it was for and nobody’s really sure of anything. Except that most adults have to crouch down to walk inside it.



It’s not super clear in the photo, but the symbol of a spear is engraved on the inner wall of two of the rocks. Typical prehistoric men, always thinking of their spears. There’s also a smaller engraving of a cross, but, given the date of the megalith, it was done far after the structure’s origin. Looks like the Christians and Vandals were in cahoots.



There’s no fuss about going to the megalith. No tickets or museums. It’s surrounded by farms, and when I visited it there were farmers taking care of business only twenty feet away from the megalith. I wonder if much has changed.

Spread the Wealth Around

The French government owes me money. Through the CAF (Caisse d’Allocations Familiales), a social-aide program, I am entitled to financial support each month. They calculate how much to give you based on a variety of things, including age, cost of housing, annual income from two years ago, current salary, and number of dependents. There’s more to it than that, but when all the paperwork is in, one’s aide is calculated and given monthly. Except I never got my money.

CAP aide is far more prevalent in France than welfare in the US. Taxes are higher here, but the government gives more money via programs such as the CAF. I was surprised when I found out that I qualified for government help with my rent. Many university students get monthly government checks, in addition to CAF aide. My friends were a bit shocked when I explained that I have loans with interest to pay back.

Using information from sources including the CAF, the government has designated certain neighborhoods in France as Zones Urbaines Sensibles. When I asked my friends to explain what the ZUS are, they said it’s basically the ghettos. Apparently the designation has corresponding legal and economic effects. For example, someone opening a business in the designated zone may have government aide for rent. Teachers have different incentives to work within the areas. Whether all this aide works, on a large scale, is still unclear to me.

Magic Eye

Like there’s some hidden scene,
something after the end credits have rolled,
when the magic lingers but doesn’t fulfill.

Or when all other classmates have left and
the chance has come to talk with the teacher,
to get that finalizing understanding.

Like a final deep reach into the stocking,
or a check under the tree
to see if there’s one more present waiting.

For that magic understanding, waiting,
I stay up late.

Huelgoat

A long time ago there was a battle between giants at Huelgoat. They attacked each other with enormous granite stones, and that’s why we find the rocks the way they are today.



When I saw the name “Huelgoat”, the first thing I thought of was Huey Louis and the Goats. But it’s pronounced “Ooh-el-gwat.” And since it attracts tourists passing though the area, there’s a lot of confusion when asking locals for directions.



The entire area is open to the public, and it wasn’t until recently that handrails were put up. Before, people could slip and it would take weeks before their bodies would surface further down the river. The rocks are especially slick in the “Devil’s Cave.”

Sexy Curses (Pt. 6)

Bill, the lead vampire in True Blood, is also a Byronic hero – alluringly dark and mysterious, with supernatural powers that defy the established order – the icon of the Romantic Movement. The Romantics rejected the “scientific rationalization of nature” (Wikipedia: Romanticism). Science had replaced God, and they defied the coldness of Natural law as the greatest power. They sought mystery and grandiosity. And the tortured, powerful individual filled that void.

The modern audience shares that void, as well as a glorification of the individual. In an early episode, Bill suggests to Sookie, the show’s protagonist, that not all things are explainable. Like the Romantics, he warns against using reason to dissect all. And though his remark is in a dialogue between two TV series characters, it serves just as well as a conversation with the audience. So while the old vampire lay isolated, rejected by God, the modern vampire stands alone, in defiance of reason and science...

Exposure

The pupils flare –
darkness grasps for
light in darkness –
to find what’s there.

In a slow breath
the eyes discern
and make sense of
shape, length, and depth.

Pupils collapse –
light scores chaos –
blurred order in
vision’s relapse.

Pavlov's Clap

I noticed it a while back, but didn’t think much of it until I had a TV in my apartment. Then it stood out. Every time a song would come on during a game or talk show, the entire audience would start clapping. Not applauding, as directed by a blinking “applaud” sign, but clapping with the song. Always the same rhythm too. A stiff, every upbeat, clap.

It’s Pavlovian for much of the French audience. And it doesn’t stay in the confines of TV. On my last night in Landivisiau, I attended and played in a concert put on by high school students. I had a lot of fun, and I liked getting to see the students’ creative talents. But the audience kept doing the damn clapping thing.

The worst was during this performance by the music teacher on cello and the other English assistant, a talented musician on multiple instruments, playing a traditional Russian instrument. People got excited cause the song’s familiar. But they made it hard to enjoy with their overwhelming claps. The tempo varies a lot in the performance, and the audience couldn’t hang with it. The players’ work was impressive by itself, but even more so when considering that they had a giant, off-beat metronome to contend with.

Sexy Curses (Pt. 5)

Americans love individualism. It shows in much of our economic policy, education system, and, most notably, pop culture. We obsess over superstars. Our athletes, singers, and actors get massive paychecks, and magazines are dedicated to their every move. Even before the modern tabloids, we had our ultimate individuals in Western films. The cowboy comes from some unknown town, with a dark past and no family, to exorcise his demons.

In American culture, we romanticize the outsider. The tall, dark, mysterious, and powerful figure. Men want to be him and women want to be with him. So our vampires aren’t cursed, they’re blessed. The traits that account for suffering in the old symbol of the vampire are the same qualities that make the modern vampire a sex icon...

Photograph 3

Five of them posing for the picture. Only one looks at the camera. They’re dressed mostly in black, with hair that wouldn’t pass in the military. Nothing past the shoulders, though. Males between the ages of 16 and 25. Young faces.

He’s in the back row, his head slightly blocked by another’s. The longest hair in the group, reaching the tip of his nose, he keeps it swept to one side where it partially covers an eye. His face looks a bit gaunt, but healthy.

Just as children often pose with open grins, these five pose with serious regards or preoccupied faces. Their age complements their attitudes, while their white skin contrasts with their outfits. They look like a group of young artists – critical of the world but excited for it.

Goodbye Land of the Horses

I’ve left Landivisiau for Rennes, where I’ll stay for two weeks before flying out of France. From goats to anarchists, and farms to markets. The smell of manure wafted into the car as we drove from Brittany’s heart to its capital.




In addition to cheeses and vegetables, the Saturday market in downtown Rennes has a notable seafood section. After the market ends, the city workers come out with their street cleaning machines to hose down and sweep the day’s debris. A fishy mist rises up and attacks innocent passerby.



Nearly all buildings in Brittany are made of concrete or stone. But some older ones in Rennes are wooden, with a notable eterior that reveals its beams. French tourists recognize the image from postcards, and take pictures as they walk through the market’s aisles.

Conseil de Classe (Pt. 3)

Last Thursday I talked with two high school students, both in their final year, about the conseil de classe. Since we spoke in English, one of the students didn’t contribute much because he’s usually reluctant to speak. The other student has a good level of English and likes to practice her conversation skills. She also served as a delegate for the conseil de classe, so she had a fair amount to say.

Her first point matched my now graduated friend’s, saying that the conseil de classe can work as a great medium for solving problems when they arrive. She differed, however, in her view of the relationship between the teachers and students. When I asked her what one thing she would change about the meetings, she quickly responded with “teachers’ attitudes.” She believes the meeting should serve as an opportunity to hear from students. To her, student delegates are considered non-objective, with no authority to criticize teachers’ pedagogy, and, because they aren’t encouraged to speak, the meeting is useless.

When I asked both students if they think the system should remain, they both said yes. Their reasoning was that in general the system works and can help some students. But they added that it isn’t an ideal system because it’s indirect. Especially for students, it requires working through representatives to hear and be heard. Each class meets before the conseil de classe to ask and discuss things for the delegate to bring up at the meeting. Yet when the delegates feel their voice isn’t heard, the entire student body can be left frustrated and disenchanted with the system.