OT: Good-bye! (very, very long)

[Guest guest]

Dear Listmembers,

If you lack time or patience, please read only sections nos. 1 and 14

through 18 in this post. The other sections (2 through 13) are just

padding so to say. In an emergency, read only 17 and 18.

The following two posts are material for reading: a poem and an

interview with a hunter.

José

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1. Fifteen minutes of fame.

I recently read Heidi Jean's farewell message. Of course I was

surprised at the news: I can hardly picture this forum without Heidi

Jean. She was like the headmistress, wasn't she? At the same time,

however, I was rather delighted to see that she was able to say good-

bye in such a brief and comprehensive message. For I find myself to

be now in the same situation, that is, I'm leaving the group, and I'm

unable to choose between a short and a long message. Can I make it

short without being evasive? Can I make it long without sounding dull

and what is worse, conceited?

There's yet a third possibility: no message at all. I know that if I

left the group without telling, hardly anyone would notice I was

gone. That's the usual dynamics of any group: people come and go

without saying anything or at least they say it at short notice. But

personally I don't like to take the French leave, you know, or

otherwise appear to be slamming the door. Yes, at the risk of

sounding boring and self-important, I'll choose the much longer way

to say good-bye to you. This is also because differently from Heidi

I have a story to tell and maybe a few insights to share.

So please lend me your ears for ten or fifteen minutes. It's like you

were granting me my final fifteen minutes of fame, as they were

conceived by Mr. Warhol. Don't I deserve them myself? But as I said

above, if you're short of time or patience or think that details are

rather burdensome and redundant, you may want to skip the next

thirteen paragraphs and jump to section no. 14. The only *trouble* is

that by doing so, you may be depriving yourself of at least one or

two wry smiles, if I can speak out in favour of the little amusing

diamonds I'm trying to encrust those medial paragraphs with, not to

mention the bizarre way in which I recreate your English language,

hoping I can stop before I murder it.

2. How pop was the Pope?

I joined this group on March 9. I knew beforehand that I wouldn't

stay very long, but whenever I felt I must leave, I simply couldn't

budge, because I found I'd developed a passion for lingering here.

Therefore, I could never imagine that I'd leave the group to-day,

sooner than I'd planned, and especially that I'd leave it also

through the agency of this post of mine about the Pope. Well, not

exactly this post, but one of the reactions I got to it, namely the

one coming from Gene, whom I'll call henceforth Mr. Schwartz, because

I want to keep a certain distance from him and look at him as if he

were a mature person, older than Pan. Gene sounds too intimate,

anyway. ly, I was surprised to hear from him, because I thought

he'd become a *desaparecido*. Although my post initially focused on

the Pope, my main concern was with death - with the possibility of

anyone of us achieving a good death. I based my piece on the late

Pope not because I admire him immensely and not because I wanted to

make him look like a saint, but simply because I read that piece of

news about his death and came to believe that he'd had the death he'd

longed for. We often associate death with a struggle, a struggle to

keep alive at all costs, and I saw in his final words an unusual

surrender. Maybe I was wrong. I'll never know if he actually uttered

those words or not, if he'd been rehearsing them or not, if he was

feverish or not. But does it really matter? I'm reminded of the

Italian adage: " Se non è vero, è ben trovato " (= Even if it's not

true, it is well-found. Even if it's not true, it makes a good

story.)

3. Do the cobbler's children have shoes?

Therefore, Mr. Schwartz's comments upon the Church, though not at all

shortsighted from a certain point of view, were somewhat impertinent

to what I was trying to convey. Maybe I wasn't clear enough, but now

this must be clearly instilled into Mr. Schwartz: It's very easy to

criticize the Church (any urchin can do that, you know, about how

boring the mass can be) and to accuse the Church of being sexist and

homophobic. I agree: She is. But who is worse shod than the

shoemaker's wife? Does Mr. Schwartz lead his life in such a way that

it's totally free from sexism? Even to my limited understanding, a

non-sexist approach to life implies, among other things, that he

doesn't employ the *weaker* sex to wash his underwear or to cook his

dinner (if he still isn't eating all raw).

And no matter what Mr. Schwartz's sexual orientation is, he must

concede that the gay lifestyle isn't a healthy option for everyone,

not even for many gays, and that if homophobia is a fact, another not

less real fact is *heterophobia* (if the term doesn't exist, I'm

coining it now), which is a way to put heterosexual behaviour under

fire and look at the straight as if they were all jerks and narrow-

minded people. I expect that Mr. Schwartz, in his libel against

homophobia, in which I'd support him heartily, doesn't commit the sin

of ignoring the other face of this wrinkled coin. If he can boast

that his own life is totally free from sexism and abuse of women and

if he can acknowledge the existence of a prejudice against the

straight and be sorry for it, then I'd be done with him. On second

thoughts, no, not yet.

And isn't curious that Mr. Schwartz has an obsession with sex? I seem

to be obsessed by death, on the other hand. Aren't we brethren, by

the way?

4. Backfired.

I exchanged a few messages with Mr. Schwartz privately over the week-

end (last Sunday, Aug 28). My original plan was to tell him that

since I was away from the group for a while, he'd have to wait for my

return to get my answer on his reaction. I know I needn't have done

it, but I felt like doing it, and I did. My impulse had both good and

mostly bad consequences. Unfortunately, what I had envisaged as a

brief and possibly amiable interchange quickly turned into a flaming

session, so to say. I should have known better. We have a saying

here: " If you join the pigs, you may end up eating dirt. " Mr.

Schwartz made me eat the dirt. But I don't want to play the innocent

part at all. I must have deeply provocated Mr. Schwartz or stepped on

his prized callus, because he ended our interchange rather brusquely

by anointing me with a series of bad but resounding names, such as:

impolite, aggressive, insulting, hostile, disgusting, unsettling,

harassing, etc. Does the mouth speak out of that which fills the

heart? I know my dialogue with him was a private affair, but it

wasn't confidential at all, and I've got to tell these things in

public in order to illustrate my point. I'm exposing both of us, not

only him.

5. Lemonade out of lemmons.

Of course he made me hit the ceiling – and if not for the concrete

slab under the roof of this house, I'd have plunged into space. In

other words, I flamed back, but in every way I was much milder than

Mr. Schwartz. My first reaction was to think: " Is this man talking to

himself aloud? " But then I simply suggested he was insane, or if a

more neutral wording had occurred to me, I would have said he had an

emotional disorder, or even that he was a case of sociopathy. In

anticipation I do apologize to the ladies here, but if he were a lady

in her period, I'd have explained away his abrupt ire as PMT. On the

following morning, however, after a badly slept night, it dawned on

me that Mr. Schwartz wasn't a nightmare, that he was maybe not

desperately wrong in his evaluation. He smashed my reputation and

self-image as if it were Narcissus' looking glass, but finally he

showed me that yes, I can be all of those ugly things. Yes, I've got

a very wicked face as well - a face that I'm often trying to adorn

and hide from everybody. Mr. Schwartz was quick to spot and then

disclose it, and I must be thankful to him for doing so. It was

painful, but it gave me another perspective of myself. Indeed I've

got some substance, not only rhetoric, you know. So without even

being aware of it, Mr. Schwartz was very helpful in providing me with

a clue for self-analysis. Ultimately, his bittersweet revelation

helped me make the long procrastinated decision to leave the group.

6. One reason to (let) go.

Firstly, supposing that my mindset contains all those nasty traits

Mr. Schwartz was able to cleverly highlight, what if I can't keep

this dark side entirely under control? What if I make undue use of it

on this very list against people whom I think very highly of, such as

Deanna, Robin Ann, Sue B., Ron, the two s, B.,

, Lynn Siprelle, , Naomi, and many others? What if I would

upset these people with my *aggressiveness* and *impoliteness*?

Moreover, I hate to think that I could put these dear and brave

people in such a situation as they wanted to admonish me for

misbehaviour but would refrain from doing it – out of consideration

(well, I presume some of these people are my friends). Whatever the

case is, Mr. Schwartz has suddenly made me conscious of this

potential danger, and now I want to avoid it as the plague. That's

one reason strong enough to leave the group, you see.

7. Two is a crowd.

The second reason is that I don't think Mr. Schwartz will have the

dignity to follow my steps and leave the group as well. Although I

presume he had some justification for pouring those titles upon me, I

wouldn't like to hear them again. Once is enough for me. I'm an

elderly man, but I know that a burned child dreads even a spark. To

avoid a second entitlement or debunking from him, depending on how

you look at it, I can't in theory take part in any thread together

with him again. He's not posting very regularly, but he can pop in at

any moment. That's his fashion and that's his right after all. He'll

probably avoid me as well. But for both of us to definitively shun

each other we'd have to limit our interactions with other people, and

I personally don't like that prospect. I know that. I've gone through

a similar process in another group. If you can't talk to a person in

a group, this can be a very frustrating and castrating experience. I

don't want it a second time for myself. And certainly not with Mr.

Schwartz.

8. If two aren't enough...

Moreover, I need to go into the recovery hall now. If people can cure

themselves of a terminal cancer, why couldn't I heal my broken soul?

There must be a way-out for me. Keeping the astute words of Mr.

Schwartz in my mind will help me concentrate on what I've got to do.

Maybe after some time I'll be an improved man, rid of some of those

shortcomings. Then I might consider joining this group again without

posing any danger to anyone else, especially to the ones I care for.

9. Mea culpa.

There's a fourth reason warranting my leaving the group. Mr. Schwartz

thinks that I've offended him and harassed him. I'm not very sure

that I did so, but he was very vocal about it, so I'm tempted to

believe him. I was even under the impression he would sue me for

sending him a further e-mail. Anyway, isn't my leaving the group the

best toll I can pay him for any personal damage, even if it were only

a by-product of a quixotic fantasy? But what if I told him that I

felt offended by him as well? What would he do? Shrug me and my

*subjective* feelings off? He can be offended, but why can't I? Is he

more vulnerable than the rest of humanity? Or does he want to

convince us that he keeps no skeleton in his cupboard?

10. Seeing through the smoke curtain.

Well, if you're reading between the lines, you'll have certainly

realized that all of the above-mentioned motives for my leaving this

group are so to say secondary motives, whims maybe, as if I were

talking with the tip of my tongue in my cheek. If they were my

primary reasons, it would imply that I was yielding to Mr. Schwartz

too much control over my own life and decision-making and that I had

no doubts about the things he shared with me about myself. And this

rationale couldn't be real, could it? I am not in delirium, you know.

I can't put the blame entirely on Mr. Schwartz. Actually, he isn't

forcing nor dictating me to do anything (he hasn't got that

additional power). My encounter with his bile really affected me

(though I know the bitter taste would be gone after a few days), but

certainly it didn't affect me to the point of his telling me what to

do, of his driving me to the wall, of his leaving me without any

choice other than leaving the group. In other words, I'd leave the

group any time soon, and I'm simply taking advantage of my

altercation with Mr. Schwartz to speed up my departure. My set of

motives include lack of time; tiredness; too much time spent at this

computer; the feeling that I really don't belong here (because I know

so very little about Dr. Price – it's been good for a while, but I

can't go on pretending...); the danger of idealizing listmembers

(such as falling in love with the ladies and thinking that all the

gentlemen are my friends), and, last and probably least, Mr.

Schwartz's virtual ferule and fire-spitting tongue.

11. One's man meat is another's poison.

I don't know if Mr. Schwartz, too, needs psychotherapy. If he has no

cash to pay for a serious treatment, he ought to consider the

therapeutic value of falling in love, going hunting or simply

greeting the trees he passes by. Any of these would make him a more

compassionate man. At least I hope this incident will offer him an

opportunity to change, even if he sees no reason to change at all.

Honestly, I don't trust psychotherapy completely, because not only it

never ends, but also because it mostly changes only your thinking but

perpetuates your doings. What I could glean, however, from my brief

but remarkable experience with Mr. Schwartz might prove useful to him

as an agenda for his own tentative (self-)healing. Let me cast some

pearls before the swine.

He can be smart, but he generally lacks depth and wisdom. He pretends

to be serious, but is in fact ill-tempered. He lacks humour, but not

irony and sarcasm. He lacks patience, but not tricks to impress

people, maybe to threaten them as well. I can't tell if he really

acts upon his threats. Not only he doesn't sign his name, but also he

doesn't bother to call you by your own name, that is, he doesn't give

a damn these niceties. I think that by reading " Alice in Wonderland " ,

he might gain in subtlety, if not in politeness. And isn't this a

contradiction: he is greatly concerned that the Church is sexist and

homophobic, but probably makes little of other people's feelings and

beliefs. He lacks forgiveness, though he abounds in accusations. When

he doesn't want to go on with a discussion, perhaps because he's

found to be lacking the necessary mental resources, he will attack

you and demand that you stop talking to him straightaway (forget

about your defence), because if you do go on, he will play the

victim, that is, he will say you're harassing him, as if he were a

bimbo. This is unfair: hit and run, you know, but I think I may

borrow this tactics from him some time soon. Also, apparently he

can't tolerate any kind of disagreement or criticism, even if you

simply say or suggest that he might be wrong or equivocated. He can

behave grossly, too, while he thinks he's simply telling the unasked

truth; in fact, it's only his particular slot of the truth. Mr.

Schwartz may well think the late Pope was a peer to anyone and worst,

an ass. Mr. Schwartz may even display the bravado of saying he'd have

delivered his impudent opinion to the very man in flesh and bone

(i.e. the Pope himself), if he'd been given the chance. Mr. Schwartz

is indeed a very temerarious person. But not to recognize that this

name-calling is outrageous (maybe even to some of you who aren't

Christians) and to believe that he could easily get away with his

debauchery, is blindness, to say the least.

And what is really sad - if Mr. Schwartz thinks that by calling bad

names left and right and by misbehaving and pulling faces, he'll

improve the world, the Church or President Bush, to mention a few of

his cherished targets, he must be an airhead. He ought quickly to

find a safer and tighter channel to put his energy to work in before

it's entirely drained in vain. In other words, he should make an

effort to become an active citizen rather than a mere complainter and

inopportune offender of authorities, whether they are genuine or not.

Or maybe he should try to tidy up his own closet or hairdo before he

tackles with the outer world at large.

In fact, I've forgotten most of my Yiddish, but I sense " Schwartz "

could be a Jewish name, with a different spelling maybe. Even if Mr.

Schwartz is a Jew, I don't see why he should keep dwelling on his

hatred of the Christian Church. The Church has indeed acknowledged

some of Her mistakes with the Jews. So let Mr. Black (sorry, Mr.

Schwartz) please stop seeing things only in black, unless he's

suffering from daltonism.

Interestingly, I can compare him to a Zen master, though it's a

little difficult for me to picture him in an orange robe. I think

purple, the colour of wrath, would suit him better. Or maybe he'd be

better to wear grey so he can cool down. Anyway, his method is

similar to the master's in that the master hits the pupil's bottom to

awaken him or her, while Mr Schwarz, lacking a real stick and real

authority, throws angry words like rotten eggs. Even if those are

free-range eggs, I doubt he'll get any results with his parody. Primo

non nocere.

How ironic to remember now that while he was having a dispute with

in New Jersey, I wrote up to her trying to defend him, trying

to make her see the jovial side of Mr. Schwartz, as if he needed me

as his defensor, or worse, as if needed my guidance to see

goodness where it's hardly to be seen. I really don't know what

should be done to him. Banning him from the group would have only a

short-term effect (he could always go elsewhere) and worse, he might

view in his expulsion a trophy. Unless he gets too disruptive and

foul-mouthed. What is clear to me, however, is that his actual

punishment is already his hatred of the world and of people, the

hatred that he carries about himself like fetters. How come his

dudes, if he has any close friends, never saw how clumsily he stalks

because of those invisible (though consequential) fetters! Is he

perhaps a masochist?

12. The hurricane.

So, if my impression doesn't feed upon the cold dish of vengeance

(and I want to make sure it doesn't), Mr. Schwartz has got to do a

lot of hard work on himself, too, deny it as he may. I'm not

suggesting, however, that he should leave the group to perform this

herculean task. He's a musician. Even if he only plays by his ears

and even if his one instrument is the hurdy-gurdy, as a musician he

must be a versatile man. He'll find a way to conciliate his work on

his ravenous soul with his obsessive group weeding. So you take care

with Mr. Schwartz as if he were a bibelot. He's useful to the group,

because he's able to see through people and point to their weak

points (though he may overlook his own). But be wary about him at the

same time, because you may be the next scapegoat in the queue and,

you already know his way isn't exactly constructive. He told me the

difference between integrity and consistency. If he's consistent as I

believe he is, he'll not spare anyone on the group. Why only me or

? In other words: no, Mr. Schwartz can't be taken very

seriously. Come on, a hurricane has devastated the Deep South,

killing several people and showing once more that even the USA (I beg

your pardon) can be like a paper tiger, and here I'm preoccupied with

the devastation power of a Mr. Schwartz! I must be kidding. But on

the other hand, to think that he's inoffensive as a graveyard is like

choosing to perform a stunt without a net. Watch over this serial

debunker, please.

13. The cure worse than the ailment.

So, that was enough for Mr. Schwartz. I'm done with him. We're quits.

I've given the Devil much, much more than was due to him. We've got

another saying here: " Don't waste a candle on a worthless defunct. "

I'm afraid I've have done so. But now it's hit and run. I'm giving

him no chance of replying, if ever he went out of his crooked way to

read this, if ever he thought about answering back to me. He was

spoilt in his early years probably by too many gifts or possibly by

too much junk food. Now he needs to face some destitution, if he

wants to grow up and down. I'm very close to the end now and what

comes next is what counts. Let's forget the rest, because those are

dead ashes.

14. Is silence golden?

I want to say first the usual words, then the less usual ones. I'm

glad that I was welcomed on this list by the majority of the members.

I'm a foreigner in many senses. I'm literally a foreigner (and from a

very suspicious country, you know, Brazil), I don't master your

language in its daily, idiomatic usage and pattern, and then I'm much

of a foreigner to NN, not being well-versed in Dr. Price's teachings.

As a matter of fact, I didn't even have a right to be here, but you

so to say have tolerated my presence and my interventions. I was a

burden sometimes, and I must say thank to you for your endurance. I

don't know that I've made any solid contribution to the group's lore,

but maybe I've made a couple of good questions and told a few good

anedoctes. Instead, I've listened to very informative debates here

and there (I'm in debt with you for that) and made friends with a few

people, where friendship isn't expected to sprout. I'm flattered by

the kind words that I've heard from some members, even if I didn't

deserve most of them. I apologize to the people that heard from me

displeasing or innocuous or even harmful words. They weren't

intentional, but may have happened. I apologize for my digressions,

for any unanswered post, and for this absolutely lengthy off-topic

final message. And I regret having failed to talk to each one with

whom I sensed a possible personal connection. I do find people more

interesting and important than topics, but that's probably an

attitude causing a lot of embarrassment, especially in virtual

groups. In fact, it's not really people that interest me, but their

interactions. To a certain extent, I regret that my interaction with

Mr. Schwartz was a failure, but who knows, after thirty-five years,

we may embark on the same boat again and are given a second chance?

Shall I knock on wood?

15. Que será, será. (Whatever will be, will be)

Most people on this list are very bright, committed, and inquisitive.

Some of them are still very young and still single. In my opinion,

being single and not having a family and children around you does

make a lot of difference. In a few years, if some of you marry and

get children, or simply by getting older, you may realize that some

of the ideas you held about food or about religion for that matter

are no longer applicable, though they may remain true. This is a

truism, of course, but always good to remember: the greatest lesson

in life is the lesson of impermanence. We talk about rejuvenation,

but we often forget the pre-condition to it: if anything, stick with

the flow rather than with the rules.

16. Beating a dead horse.

Three or four last obvious reminders:

a) We do what we do, because in the first place we can afford to have

choices, earned either through our self-education or financial means.

But many people don't have choices or very few. This is especially

true in my country, where the differences between the classes are

striking. Maybe we should try to live, now and then, as if there were

fewer choices for ourselves, too, or maybe we should train ourselves

to accept less ideal situations, because we can't tell what the

future will be like.

We don't live on islands, though sometimes we're led to behave and

think as if we did.

c) Books are useful, but personal experiences is what really matters.

d) We're also a product of our time period. We can learn from the

past to improve the present, but we can't replicate the past

entirely, unless the world was totally destroyed and we had to start

from scratch. Now, that's a concrete possibility!

17. Curtains down.

As I'm typing my final words, I can't help feeling really sad because

I'm leaving. I know that very few people, if any, will have read this

message through and those who have will forget it soon afterwards.

It's all right. But I felt as if it were my obligation to post it.

Indeed I'd rather say a superfluous goodbye than give the impression

that I don't give a fig for the group. Now I'm no longer responsible

for whatever happens with this message. Now I think I can go in peace

and you can go on with life.

18. And the less usual words...

May God – whatever your definition of God is – be always with you,

and may you always reach whatever you need and may this become what

you want and most value.

José