Vocatus Atque non Vocatus Deus Aderit | Deo Duce, Ferro Comitante | Vox Populi, Vox Dei

The World Needs Less Junior Therapists and More Spiritual Mentors
Life is not Relative – There Are Absolute Rights, and Absolute Wrongs

Saturday, November 21, 2009

I Love New York! | 都ザ 暮らし ミート ザ 都市 of 亡い | Urbs of Victus Opportunus Urbs of Mortuus


BE IT EVER SO HUMBLE





THERE'S NO PLACE LIKE HOME

What a rush to be home in New York City!

The flight home from LAX was very productive - now that I'm concentrating infinitely better because of the dramatic improvement in my sleep quality, I was able to bow my head and knock out 5000 words in six hours without lifting my head or doing a single rewrite. I've only got 5 more installments due – should be done when I see my advisor next week.

I never thought I’d get this much school work done on time between being shackled to that God-awful clubhouse for 90 'meetings' and the long hours at work but it was well worth it. It is important to me to note that I have Kevin, Marlo, Kurt, Debbie, Penny, Andrew, Richard and Mark to thank for this, as well as all my sponsees East and West Coast, and of course my sponsor David J, his second in command Dan B., as well as the unlovable cast of miscreants at the ‘World Famous’ (LOL) Round Table.

The RT’s comfort in mediocrity and moral decrepitude has catapulted me into a new dimension of productivity and deeper appreciation of our literature, steps and traditions. And of course, God – must always put him first – to have seen those key chain worshiping heathens slobber over their 30 day trinkets  is enough to drive anyoone back through their stepwork.  What a bunch of wankers.

It didn’t hit me till my feet hit the sidewalks of New York how much I love my fair city – warts and all. There is more life in the faces, hearts and souls of these people and more to do at two in the morning in the darkest part of town than there is do in Downtown Long Beach on Saturday night at 8:00. NY is the undisputed capital of the world and I love it so. Los Angeles should be renamed ‘Los Cadávers’ – the city of the dead. I’ve never seen such a listless, lifeless place in all the world and I’ve been everywhere. It really is the dawn of the dead – everyone is more concerned about the style of their haircut than the substance of their character, the make and model of their car than their moral fiber, the way they are treated at work rather than their commitment to the success of the company. LA – truly – is the shallowest place in the entire universe, the epicenter of vanity and, well, stupidity, let’s face it – they ‘ain’t none too bright’.

Lately it occurs to me that LA is the amalgamation of the ‘American Dream’ come ‘American Nightmare’. No mass transportation (we can thank the GM for that – apparently, Michael Moore forgot to mention that GM has killed more than Detroit and Flint when they underhandedly ended street cars in LA), soot and smog everywhere, people comfortably and listless dying from the carcinogens generated by their endless and inexhaustible need for conspicuous consumption, and a complete and utter lack of – hope.

That’s right – hope. These people, for the most part, have no moral code. Without a moral code, there is no hope. This I think why talking about God, the steps and the traditions in my meetings in LA goes over like a fart in church. It also explains the uber-selfish displays at the Round Table and the lack of any sort of concern for the welfare of the common citizenry.  How ironic is it that in the 'City of Angels' God is a forbidden topic and it's more acceptable to be a worshiper of the dark one. Truly, this has to be one of the signs of the apocylpse.

My rolfer Sam kept the midnight oil burning for me (it is NY after all) and so since my flight landed at 11 PM, he gave me a 1 AM appointment at his rolfing studio. I was so giddy to be in my apartment on 95th street after dropping my baggage I couldn’t help but take the train downtown.

I was fortunate to sit next to a retired professor of English Literature from Columbia University who was reading my favorite book of all time – Fahrenheit 451 (see my earlier post (when books are burned, men are soon to follow). I struck up a conversation with him on how marvelous it was to see someone reading an actual book instead of having a pair of headphones stuffed in their ears, and from 96th to Houston we had the most wonderful of how ‘Kindle’ and how technology in general was changing the world – and not necessarily for the good. After I got off at Houston, I realized I had more intelligent conversation in 15 minutes on that train than in one entire year in Long Beach. We covered subjects in sociology, theosophy, theology, religion, literature, architecture, politics and engineering. What a rush!

Southern California, for it's part, has about as much culture as a rusty ’68 VW bus.  And that's all I have to say about that.  Oh yeah - the sufing museum -LOL- let's not forget the surfing museum.  Thats 15 minutes of my life gone forever.

And so it goes.

COG, 1st Cl.

2 comments:

  1. great post, I can feel the excitement, lol..

    have a great visit!

    ReplyDelete
  2. Do they still have that sad little wallboard with anniversary time listed every month?

    ReplyDelete

Welcome as a witness to a fools journey out of the darkness. I welcome all tidings - you are all my teachers on this path toward a meaningful and purposeful sobriety.

COG, 1st Cl.