Friday, June 22, 2007
1,089 Hours and 7,000 kilometres
Sing 'hallelujah!' Throw up your hands, the first draft of the novel is complete. Four years later. Tis a glorious day, and will allow for a nice weekend before the editing process begins. To celebrate, here is an excerpt from Chapter 11:
1,089 Hours and 7,000 Kilometres in Chapter 11
According to Robadise the case of the four child deaths and the Pulau man who killed them (some claimed that his weapon was black magic) had become a national issue thanks to the state supported media’s love of rogue violence and swift vengeful justice. Therefore, nowhere in Indonesia was safe for Bumi, the new prime public enemy. Robadise’s plan was to smuggle Bumi somewhere the Indonesian government couldn’t reach him. He provided few details, saying only that the less Bumi knew about it the better.
“Here’s the deal,” he told Bumi. “If you stay here you will die. I have friends who can save you from that, and save Ada, Bunga, and Baharuddin the pain of losing you. If it works, you can one day send for them. To be frank, it’s a long shot. But staying here is certain death, and that would in turn kill my sister and my niece and my nephew. At least this way they have some hope to hold on to.”
Robadise explained that his friend in the navy was well connected with the Chinese human smuggling industry. Bumi’s special circumstances complicated things, but for a high price he could be sent somewhere he could be a free man. “Think Bumi, no more hiding your books. No more living a lie, you can be yourself again.”
Bumi informed his brother-in-law that without Ada, he could not be himself.
“This is your only hope, Bumi. Maybe you would rather die than leave your family, but think of their needs. This way they have hope, and maybe one day you can be reunited in a place that is free, where you can pursue your ideas, where your intelligence can be put to good use. Maybe you will become rich.”
This beast my brother-in-law, thought Bumi, is a clever one. And again, questions. Why does he want to be rid of me? Is he working for Suharto? Perhaps he thinks I’m an inadequate husband for his wife? Bumi’s obsession with having committed child murder had been replaced with a deeply planted fear of the only man who seemed to be his friend. Yet another obsession he could not put to rest, an idea he could not disprove. “And Ada, you’ve discussed this with her?” he asked.
“Yes, Bumi.”
“And?”
“She reluctantly agreed.” Aha! Reluctantly. And her absence was an indicator; why was she sent away like a common servant after bringing their untouched tea during the most important conversation of Bumi’s life? As if reading between the lines on Bumi’s face Robadise elaborated. “Of course she doesn’t want to lose you, Bumi. But it is obvious to everyone, expect maybe yourself, that we will lose you one way or another. We either lose you to God, or we lose you to Canada.”
“Canada?!” Bumi felt drunk as his mind clouded. Canada? The plan was insane. And Canada, of all the destinations.
“I shouldn’t have told you that,” said Robadise. “You weren’t supposed to know that much.”
“You couldn’t send me far enough, could you brother?” Bumi answered through pursed lips. He squeezed his eyes shut hard, straining his face until it was crinkled like his birth-face and tears were forced from his eyes. His chest heaved as he felt everything slip away, again. And now, 15 years later, he remained utterly feeble and small in the face of the powers acting to move him. He laid his head down on the floor and closed his eyes all the way, ready to submit to his fate and accept it as punishment for all his imagined deeds, and the evil he may have done, the things he had thought about that should never have crossed his mind.
“Canada is a good place for you to go, Bumi. Lots of coast, multicultural, easy refugee laws. Australia is almost impossible. And they treat refugees like criminals. Worse actually - they put them in internment camps worse than prisons, you don’t even get a lawyer and most people there just want to die.” Bumi knew exactly how they felt. “I even hear that Suharto has spies in those intern camps. They report back to him about who is trying to get out of Indonesia and into Australia. So if Australia sends you home he knows it, and you die.
"Anyway, most likely you’d never get past their navy – they patrol the shoreline for illegals. Most likely you’d starve to death at sea or get sent back. You don’t want that. The USA is difficult too. Everyone tries to go there and few succeed. Canada has very good odds, and it’s too far for them to get to you.
"Besides, your politics fit better in Canada.”
1,089 Hours and 7,000 Kilometres in Chapter 11
According to Robadise the case of the four child deaths and the Pulau man who killed them (some claimed that his weapon was black magic) had become a national issue thanks to the state supported media’s love of rogue violence and swift vengeful justice. Therefore, nowhere in Indonesia was safe for Bumi, the new prime public enemy. Robadise’s plan was to smuggle Bumi somewhere the Indonesian government couldn’t reach him. He provided few details, saying only that the less Bumi knew about it the better.
“Here’s the deal,” he told Bumi. “If you stay here you will die. I have friends who can save you from that, and save Ada, Bunga, and Baharuddin the pain of losing you. If it works, you can one day send for them. To be frank, it’s a long shot. But staying here is certain death, and that would in turn kill my sister and my niece and my nephew. At least this way they have some hope to hold on to.”
Robadise explained that his friend in the navy was well connected with the Chinese human smuggling industry. Bumi’s special circumstances complicated things, but for a high price he could be sent somewhere he could be a free man. “Think Bumi, no more hiding your books. No more living a lie, you can be yourself again.”
Bumi informed his brother-in-law that without Ada, he could not be himself.
“This is your only hope, Bumi. Maybe you would rather die than leave your family, but think of their needs. This way they have hope, and maybe one day you can be reunited in a place that is free, where you can pursue your ideas, where your intelligence can be put to good use. Maybe you will become rich.”
This beast my brother-in-law, thought Bumi, is a clever one. And again, questions. Why does he want to be rid of me? Is he working for Suharto? Perhaps he thinks I’m an inadequate husband for his wife? Bumi’s obsession with having committed child murder had been replaced with a deeply planted fear of the only man who seemed to be his friend. Yet another obsession he could not put to rest, an idea he could not disprove. “And Ada, you’ve discussed this with her?” he asked.
“Yes, Bumi.”
“And?”
“She reluctantly agreed.” Aha! Reluctantly. And her absence was an indicator; why was she sent away like a common servant after bringing their untouched tea during the most important conversation of Bumi’s life? As if reading between the lines on Bumi’s face Robadise elaborated. “Of course she doesn’t want to lose you, Bumi. But it is obvious to everyone, expect maybe yourself, that we will lose you one way or another. We either lose you to God, or we lose you to Canada.”
“Canada?!” Bumi felt drunk as his mind clouded. Canada? The plan was insane. And Canada, of all the destinations.
“I shouldn’t have told you that,” said Robadise. “You weren’t supposed to know that much.”
“You couldn’t send me far enough, could you brother?” Bumi answered through pursed lips. He squeezed his eyes shut hard, straining his face until it was crinkled like his birth-face and tears were forced from his eyes. His chest heaved as he felt everything slip away, again. And now, 15 years later, he remained utterly feeble and small in the face of the powers acting to move him. He laid his head down on the floor and closed his eyes all the way, ready to submit to his fate and accept it as punishment for all his imagined deeds, and the evil he may have done, the things he had thought about that should never have crossed his mind.
“Canada is a good place for you to go, Bumi. Lots of coast, multicultural, easy refugee laws. Australia is almost impossible. And they treat refugees like criminals. Worse actually - they put them in internment camps worse than prisons, you don’t even get a lawyer and most people there just want to die.” Bumi knew exactly how they felt. “I even hear that Suharto has spies in those intern camps. They report back to him about who is trying to get out of Indonesia and into Australia. So if Australia sends you home he knows it, and you die.
"Anyway, most likely you’d never get past their navy – they patrol the shoreline for illegals. Most likely you’d starve to death at sea or get sent back. You don’t want that. The USA is difficult too. Everyone tries to go there and few succeed. Canada has very good odds, and it’s too far for them to get to you.
"Besides, your politics fit better in Canada.”
Labels: 2006, Fiction, subway novel, Toronto
Monday, June 18, 2007
Language Trix II
[This originally appeared over at The Tony Clifton Experience on August 29 of 2006 under the topic of Euphemisms. I thought readers of Benjibopper might also enjoy it.]
It was a case of extremists v. moderates
or extreme radicals v. fence-sitting nosepickers
or fundamentalist divisionaries v. stagnant cancer
Meanwhile the boys at the box-office were manufacturing
a new cool that would chill the root-out-all-adversaries
neighbourhood bullies and hippify
the stodgy peaceniks refusing to take sides
Everyone else either pro-life or pro-choice
never anti anything, nevermind pro-the-right-to-choose-life
or reject pain or oppose the slaughter of innocence by millions
because if you don't stand for something you'll fall for anything so
pick your damn sore spot and start bitching would you?
We have a wide selection of causes you have your choice
between Jews for Jesus
privatization of the market
liberation of the vegetarians
genericization of the war on drugs
Don't get me started on the list of wars you can support we got the:
war on poverty
war on tax fraud
war on large game poaching
war on the remnants of the cold war
war on the left
war on the right
war on terror
war on dictatorship
The list goes on and of course you have the war on war itself
and the boys in the language lab are hard at work sloganeering
for whomsoever can afford their services so if you seek a career
in the public service and you have a knack with subtle put-downs
you can perhaps be the chosen white to solve the age-old adage
of the spectrum-tipping nutters v. the smack dab middle ho-humming wimps.
It was a case of extremists v. moderates
or extreme radicals v. fence-sitting nosepickers
or fundamentalist divisionaries v. stagnant cancer
Meanwhile the boys at the box-office were manufacturing
a new cool that would chill the root-out-all-adversaries
neighbourhood bullies and hippify
the stodgy peaceniks refusing to take sides
Everyone else either pro-life or pro-choice
never anti anything, nevermind pro-the-right-to-choose-life
or reject pain or oppose the slaughter of innocence by millions
because if you don't stand for something you'll fall for anything so
pick your damn sore spot and start bitching would you?
We have a wide selection of causes you have your choice
between Jews for Jesus
privatization of the market
liberation of the vegetarians
genericization of the war on drugs
Don't get me started on the list of wars you can support we got the:
war on poverty
war on tax fraud
war on large game poaching
war on the remnants of the cold war
war on the left
war on the right
war on terror
war on dictatorship
The list goes on and of course you have the war on war itself
and the boys in the language lab are hard at work sloganeering
for whomsoever can afford their services so if you seek a career
in the public service and you have a knack with subtle put-downs
you can perhaps be the chosen white to solve the age-old adage
of the spectrum-tipping nutters v. the smack dab middle ho-humming wimps.
Labels: 2006, finland, Poetry, politics
Wednesday, June 06, 2007
Extry-Long Weekend
Going to Montreal this weekend to visit the world's best friend. After several years in NYC with a good job, he took another good job Back Home. Then he quit and moved to Montreal - for a girl. Not just any girl, but a girl who broke his heart ten years ago. Foolish? I think not. I think he's the gutsiest man I know, one of the few brave enough to follow the heart. Besides, Montreal's a great city. So, leaving tonight to visit him and the new old flame - should be fun.
I leave you with something recently published by one of my favourite writers, a philosophical piece summing up some lessons from Africa:
Or, if this is more your speed:
Happy weekend blog-geeks!
-Bopper
Labels: 2006, Africa, non-fiction, publishing
Tuesday, April 18, 2006
Observations from my Trip to MMMerica (fuck yeah!)
To most of the world American and Canadian culture are intistinguishable. For Canadians ballyhooing about Steve Earle's Ammerika 6.0, the differences can be overwhelming. Here are a few random observations from my Easter weekend sojourn to Sunbury Ohio and South Bend Indiana, where we visited some old friends (a Canadian ex-pat, Gabe from Louisville, and John from Anaheim Whoop Whoop):
1. Leftwing radio in the US is really obsessed with Iraq; I mean it's ALL they can talk about
2. Rightwing radio in the US is really obsessed with homosexuality; I mean it's ALL they can talk about
3. The interstate highway system is pretty impressive compared to Canada's east-west pothole. I really like the toll system - it's user-pay which is about as fair a system as I can think of. Funny that Toronto's mayor almost lost the election for daring to utter those words: "highway toll."
4. The answer to the question "can I have a small ______?" is 'No.' In America, capital of mindless consumption, everything is gigantic.
5. Despite number 4, there is a derth of roadside coffeeshops in America.
6. I think Americans are funnier than Canadians, on average. All the celebrity worshippers will counter with Jim Carey, John Candy, Mike Meyers, blahblahblah but your average good-natured American makes me laugh more frequently and harder than their Canadian counterpart. Americans are just more outgoing, and more outrageous. It might be the giant doughnuts.
7. This is probably more of a city-town thing than nation-based, but the food in America...sucks. I'm really going to miss Toronto's food one day soon.
8. Holy fucking flags! And ribbons. Although the electorate in America is clearly sporting a left-right split through its middle parts, you'd think from public discourse that it's a nation of forks and spoons marching ominously in a Pink Floyd video and you're the dude with the razor hovering over his nipples trying to find an escape route while Big Brother is watching.
9. Everything there is ranked. As in, "this is the sixth largest office building in America. This phone booked was given an award as the best phone book in Indiana. Detroit has the sixth largest art gallery (and the 3rd lowest number of annual visitors)...etc." I think this is because America is slightly more hierarchical in how it organizes itself so such protocol matters more.
10. I like the scenary in Ohio and Indiana more than I do the same in southern Ontario; maybe that's because it's new to me.
11. This isn't really a comparison but on our way back through Michigan we found a brochure for the US Army with the tagline "Join an army of one." I think those guys are really longing for the days of the draft.
12. I most definitely envy the southern climate.
Anyway, differences aside it was great to visit with 4 amazing friends, three of whom are American and the other probably wishes he was. We laughed the whole way through, relaxed like we rarely do, and the sun was shining, weather sweet, made me move my dancing feet.
--Bopper
1. Leftwing radio in the US is really obsessed with Iraq; I mean it's ALL they can talk about
2. Rightwing radio in the US is really obsessed with homosexuality; I mean it's ALL they can talk about
3. The interstate highway system is pretty impressive compared to Canada's east-west pothole. I really like the toll system - it's user-pay which is about as fair a system as I can think of. Funny that Toronto's mayor almost lost the election for daring to utter those words: "highway toll."
4. The answer to the question "can I have a small ______?" is 'No.' In America, capital of mindless consumption, everything is gigantic.
5. Despite number 4, there is a derth of roadside coffeeshops in America.
6. I think Americans are funnier than Canadians, on average. All the celebrity worshippers will counter with Jim Carey, John Candy, Mike Meyers, blahblahblah but your average good-natured American makes me laugh more frequently and harder than their Canadian counterpart. Americans are just more outgoing, and more outrageous. It might be the giant doughnuts.
7. This is probably more of a city-town thing than nation-based, but the food in America...sucks. I'm really going to miss Toronto's food one day soon.
8. Holy fucking flags! And ribbons. Although the electorate in America is clearly sporting a left-right split through its middle parts, you'd think from public discourse that it's a nation of forks and spoons marching ominously in a Pink Floyd video and you're the dude with the razor hovering over his nipples trying to find an escape route while Big Brother is watching.
9. Everything there is ranked. As in, "this is the sixth largest office building in America. This phone booked was given an award as the best phone book in Indiana. Detroit has the sixth largest art gallery (and the 3rd lowest number of annual visitors)...etc." I think this is because America is slightly more hierarchical in how it organizes itself so such protocol matters more.
10. I like the scenary in Ohio and Indiana more than I do the same in southern Ontario; maybe that's because it's new to me.
11. This isn't really a comparison but on our way back through Michigan we found a brochure for the US Army with the tagline "Join an army of one." I think those guys are really longing for the days of the draft.
12. I most definitely envy the southern climate.
Anyway, differences aside it was great to visit with 4 amazing friends, three of whom are American and the other probably wishes he was. We laughed the whole way through, relaxed like we rarely do, and the sun was shining, weather sweet, made me move my dancing feet.
--Bopper
Labels: 2006, America, non-fiction, Travel
Wednesday, March 29, 2006
Trampoline
I have always had this dream
to build me a house without stairs
Just a trampoline to break my fall
to build me a house without stairs
Just a trampoline to break my fall
Labels: 2006, philosophy, Poetry, Toronto
