Upon mention of the Copenhagen Summit, it’s hard to avoid recalling “Homer the Heretic” (9F01). Reverend Lovejoy quotes the Lamentations of Jeremiah dwelling on “rivers of burning sulfur” and several other visions of sizzling flesh while the congregation sits freezing literally trapped in church thanks to a faulty furnace, actually relishing the ominous images. I wonder if the outcome of the Summit would have varied if they had celebrated it in Dallol.
At the age of twelve, Severn Cullis-Suzuki shocked partakers at the Earth Summit in Brazil in 1992. This video just came to my attention recently, even though it’s been online for over a year or so. (You can read the transcript here.)
Bob Marley’s emblematic “No woman, no cry” comes to mind, especially at the end — “everything’s gonna be all right.” Is it? Cullis-Suzuki wonders out loud if those words still carry, if we can still say that to our children — “it’s not the end of the world,” she goes on. And that was 16 years ago…
Can I lie to my child?
Several weeks ago, a mysterious tapping on our balcony glass door in the middle of the night disrupted the otherwise silence of this suburban, rather rural, location. Upon revision, it happened to be a huge hornet. The behavior was most unusual. Not only did it come at night, but always tried to get in through the door. Every day. For at least six weeks. No others came. I had a chance to photograph it while it lay still.
Just yesterday, I went out to the balcony to cut some coriander, a spice I blessedly found fresh, and alive, in this country just last month. I failed to close the door tightly. In its usual visit, the hornet squeezed in and started whirling around the lamps. It wouldn’t leave and, at some point, crawled under the furniture. I tried to stun it, but it always sprang back up. It never attacked. I finally stun it hard enough that it lay still, and took it out of the house.
Today I found that it’s harmless, and that its sting is nothing more than slightly painful. Today, silence is the only reminder that the insect tried to invade my home. In fact, we have invaded theirs. I miss the hornet. I wonder if it will ever come back, or if it even survived. I acted like a foolish human and would not allow it around my child. I tried to get it out, but it was more interested in flying around the lights. It persevered day after day after day, only to find a probable demise after succeeding to penetrate my realm. If I hurt it, I’m sorry.
Luciano’s fight is over. Never again shall his voice fill our ears and hearts. He has become a legend and shall be heard in the booming of thunder, in the peaceful flowing of a river, in the troat of a pluvian.
Considering that sixty is the new forty, it’s a pity to see someone so young gone.
Farewell. May you find peace.
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