Bush in Bogor
The air and the aethers are thicker there. Much more is possible, and yet everything is harder. Though Bush avoids exposure to the bad air, masuk angin, the malaria exposure possible, if not certain from a moonlight stroll around the palace grounds, the samething is possible in the dark minutes outside, before and after rain, and it rained today in Bogor, as it does everyday in Bogor.
Java has killed better men. Some of the brightest and most promising biologists of the former colonial empires dropped dead, weeks later, shipboard, after a single day of exploring Java. (Java and Sumatra have nearly killed me several times, and willpower and strong modern medicine have helped, but alway I was rescued more by the kindness and care of Indonesians, and the desire to know more and deeper things about the people, the culture, the landscape, and the boundless varieties of life you can encounter in that primeval world. Humanity absolutely will require that biodiversity to survive climate change, to give birth to a new world when we finaly give up the fantasies of nuclear power and seperating ourselves from the rest of biology and creation...)
Bush's salvation may be a new willingness to more openly atone for his crimes. If he returns to America and willingly invites Congressional inquiry into his terrorism, his war making, maybe apologizes, boldly and honestly, completely for misleading America and the world community into unneccessary and illegal war in Iraq, his soul will have some rest in the remainder of this life, and the next...
Otherwise, I am sure that the various new demons and ill-meaning magic unleashed on him today will pursue him for eternity.
Aku cinta Bogor
Bogor is one of my favorite cities. The botanic gardens, Kebun Raya Indonesia - Bogor, are populated with majestic specimens of trees from all over Indonesia and the tropical world,some as old as 300 years. I've even been surprised to see a few trees there from my part of the world, the poor fringes of biodiversity in the temperate, near-boreal forests of North America, some how if elderberries survive to maturity in Bogor, I am able to dream that someday I could settle and grow old there and drink es pala
more and bir bintang less, grow into Islam gently and yet still become a competent biologist, to switch mental frames and know the world view of PZ Myers, the atheistic malacologist, with agility. My chess would also improve, and there are always pretty Sundanese and Javanese girls to look at and sharp young women from the Outer Islands and abroad would always still come to visit, to pry knowledge from the various old scientific institutes of that amazing litle city, with its fruit bats, trees with delicate walls of elastic aerial roots dangling beneath tree limbs like curtains and the herds of deer on the palace grounds.
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