We bore this tide of echoes with lightness, attributing most of it to having lived in a country with a similar history of Imperial domination, down to the same conquistadores. But who didn't Spain touch when she was in her hey day? It was evening by the time we left the cuotas (toll roads), navigating through small towns and villages, till we were finally in Valladolid where we'd stay the night.
I'd summarily described it to the Lovely Libran as "you know, it's like a small Spanish town" deliberately leaving out most of the details to surprise her. The evening had done my efforts better, for we'd arrived on the night of a fiesta. The streets had garlands of lights, flags and flowers hung everywhere, and there was that general buzz of celebratory excitement.
It's so true. At least for me it is. I suppose it has to do with how a good part of my life is in my writing. Hence my absence usually means I've succumbed to the silence living requires that trying once again to articulate insight from a moving canvas
of emotions can be preemptive, even false if not allowed to ripen. While I'm on both twitter and face crack, I have as yet to develop a significant presence on either. All this means is that I'm not quite convinced I have anything of value to say in 140 characters or less that doesn't involve the words, "Fire", "Watch Out", or "Duck".
I'm told it's an eminently useful tool in keeping followers in touch, and I believe it is. But what if my silences are just as important as what I have to say? Take fruit cake for instance, no one questions that it has to sit there for a while, marinating in rum or brandy or whatever liqueur it is that's meant to make it a masterpiece.
My mother used to make fruit cake in August so it would be ready by December, and opening the fridge we all teetered at the promise each well-wrapped lump of foil would later yield. The indescribable satisfaction of nut, fruit and dark cake, moistly infused with brandy, which was her choice of alcohol, all of which we could only enjoy when the holidays were finally upon us.
In her country, fruit cake was also the traditional wedding cake. Surprising I know, considering how we now associate wedding cake with the fluffy, creamed sponge tiers of sugar nothings majestically decorated in full bridal regalia. A recipe that's statistically telling. But yes, aside from Christmas, fruit cake was reserved for the day a marriage was sanctified. Apt I guess, because of the time it requires to gel, to finally make sense so to speak. Eating my mother's fruit cake was also one of the few occasions I could taste alcohol without getting ill and embarrassing myself publicly. Well, not so much myself as others, I usually don't remember much after I'm sick from it, being unable to ingest it uncooked.
So here's yet another original thought, apparently the Fall of the Roman Empire is now directly attributed to homosexuality. At least, that's what "top" Italian history professor Robert de Mattei would have you believe, reports the Daily Mail. Then again he also thinks Japan's tsunami is divine retribution.
Not surprisingly, he also happens to be a devout Roman Catholic who's worked closely with the church's own history council as well as being a close friend of the creepily swinging Silvio Berlusconi, the much in the news for his sexcapades Italian Prime Minister .
Now, I'm no historian. I was even raised Catholic. But. An entire empire, really?
So a quick read through historical viewpoints proves that a number of historians have pinpointed not just one but quite a few causes of Rome's decline from being the superpower of its time. Reasons like inflation, lead poisoning, the division of the seat of power, corruption, a crippling deficit (hint), even, OMG, Christianity which introduced contradictory values to running the empire. Sure there was certainly a level of debauchery that increased with Rome amassing power, amongst which were orgies of every sexual orientation, statements like this are meant to have us envision what? That Rome was essentially an amped up Fellini film spliced with racy episodes of Spartacus, something like Gay gone Wild?
FA on feathers, fangs, furies and all sorts of folly, yes, even the serious kind.
content copyright 2011
Yep, my life, my insanity, my copyright. If you like what you read, let me know :)
Did I use your image & attribute it incorrectly? Sorry! Let me know and I'll take it down. "Sssshhhh" image on blog header by Deborah Azzopardi. It's an amazing print now available thru Ikea.