Waking the Dead

08/09/06 - posted by jb

Malloy's has a soul of it's own and may be the closest icon we have to the Wailing Wall this side of Jerusalem. My shop teacher once said wood is forgiving and yet is has a long memory and the tears intermingled with countless spilled drinks and dreams have soaked Malloy's to the very bone, where it resonates on cold days made colder by the breath Death's angel blowing down the knolls and souls of Colma.

I don't know about you all but I'm tired of TV and ready for gun smoke to really go off the air. Perhaps we all need a shot of Jamison's and a long look into another watery eye.

Because as another Irishman once wrote

"Heard of a van that is loaded with weapons
packed up and ready to go
Heard of some gravesites, out by the highway
a place where nobody knows
The sound of gunfire, off in the distance
I'm getting used to it now"
David Byrne~ Life During Wartime

Scary, isn't it? We are becoming so detatched from our own humanity that we now view dismemberment and carnage with all the relish of geek-show rubes in denial that the chicken's neck being severed is our very own...the tabacco blood-stained stained teeth, our very own...the cheap gin reward, our very own. We have achieved the ultimate luxury: We are immune to the suffering of others, compliments of Coliseum News Network, I-Pods with a Capital eye and "the next best thing." Reviled by Mel Gibson's anti-Semitism in the tabloids, yet 2000 soldiers explode in a blast of quiet agony in Iraq and Jews are shot in Seattle by an "enigmatic" muslim.

So pour us all a round of something to hold back the fog and tears from Belfast to Beirut. And it best not be cheap gin.

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