Initiation Sacred hue initiate me into the elegiac rites of my kin to offer my mind to the whims of the wind eulogy of the sea once revered forever adorned amid islands awestruck by their desire to walk upon water and slowly reach the sacred tombs of my ancestors where all offerings belong where all devotion adheres to festivities that annul death invocations that resurrect and guide free spirits to their duties
“And I suppose you propose that you’re the one who is going to find these marvellous new things.” “Actually,” Ken said, “I am – many of them. I have already found some but they’re mine and they’re secrets.” “Well, you seem to have some feelings about this.” “Yes, I do.” “Go ahead then – express your understanding of this.” “Yes sir.” Ken picked up the chalk and drew two birds. One bird was flying along while the other one lay crumpled at the foot of a brick wall that it had crashed into. “What precisely does that mean?” the master asked. “This bird is flying along without thinking about Pythagoras’ Theorem and this bird was thinking about Pythagoras’ Theorem and flew into a wall.” “I suppose you think you’re very funny,” the teacher said. “In my universe I think I’m funny,” Ken said. “And I enjoy being funny.” “Is that so?” the teacher said. “And I suppose you think this is very funny.” “No sir, it isn’t very funny. It’s actually very, very sad.” “Yes,” he said, walking to his desk. “Sadder than you think.” He wrote something on a piece of paper, folded it and handed it to Ken. “Take that to the headmaster,” he said. Ken left the classroom to the sniggers of the other students and searched for the headmaster’s office. This behaviour about drawing the birds was spawned by the treatment that I got when I walked in there. I was dealt with in a rather stupid way. If there were twelve points in one’s life that were important, this incident would be one of my key ones. I’ve always had somewhere deep inside me a sense of knowing the moment when I am in the moment. To this day I can’t explain how that happens but I do know when I’m in it. It had become apparent to me that there were very specific rules for the “good” people – the “nice” people – and those were the people who had lots of money. The poor people lived in a different world. And the rich people were hiring minions such as this teacher to do their bidding. The rich people didn’t want to look after their own children – they just shunted them off to boarding schools. Ken found the office and knocked on the door. “Come in,” a voice called. Ken walked in and handed the folded note to a woman sitting behind a desk in the small anteroom. She unfolded it, scanned what was written there and looked back up at Ken with a curious half-smile.
Lento Fast news floating on the glass wall – perhaps theirs. An endless story commands for all, but the consolation could move seas within us. Hawking became weightless for a moment, I saw the angelic glow around his body. Anyway, the secrets of escape artists I’ve been researching nowadays and I’m terrified that the infidel class will one day suck me in. I’m a swaying burden above my shadow, but I know that an eternal smile dwells in the hologram house.
Manolis Aligizakis 