Although we know more than this about Whitey the Crime, a simple silent moment that a person can have alone with or without a reflective surface can send numerous thoughts towards a sovereign people who refuse to believe what they are told.
This is an unintentional dissonance.
The idea that Whitey the Crime’s beliefs are better than someone who disagrees should be read as an ironic statement about the balance of the universe. Everything seems to have two schools of thought, those with it and those against it.
The wise understand that the equilibrium of these meetings is apparent in every day life. Repression causes violent outbursts in the most psychological sense. Perhaps this idea embarrasses us. But repressed memories of our past do come to our minds from time to time. These embarrassing secrets challenge our code of behavior, as it seems we wish we could be altruistic in our convictions. Dr. John Demartini taught me that, amongst other things.
Due to understood and misunderstood circumstances, or perhaps the content of my early writing I was told I was under the influence of the Devil. In my most altruistic tone, perhaps to explain that I didn’t feel I was, I told a youth Pastor a rude statement of awkward disagreement. I feel by now he was trying to save my soul, as people do. For a number of reasons, including this rude statement and the form of poetry that I was writing, my claims of reincarnation and philosophical questions that were deemed notably out of place, stupid, insane, wrong, and preachy, I eventually felt the need to leave the Baptist town where I grew up.
This leaves me at a point in my life when I have recently arrived home from the international gate of a foreign airport and had bitter, 40 year old, anonymous women tell me something like, “Who do you think you are? Are you so full of yourself that you think we care about you? Do you think you need to wear sunglasses in this American airport? You are a nobody, everyone knows that.”
Honestly, I was a little taken aback, I replied that the glasses were prescription and so that I could see. The lady walked away in a huff. I remarked to the woman serving coffee that I didn’t think I had ever seen that woman before. She asked how big the town was and I told her 10000 people, but I had moved to one of 32000. The young lady asked what I did, so I told her I was a writer and musician.
After that I told her it would be nice to get back home and walked away in sunglasses. I have told myself for a while that when strangers tell me things like that it means that I actually have a career. They are telling me that I am successful in the media.
I wonder if she saw the dichotomy in the old woman’s complete anonymity to me. I was rather baffled at this comment, though it made me think deeply of the months prior to my graceful and silent exit from the town of my youth.
It is important to note that 50% of people believed that George Bush Jr. was the coming of the anti-Christ and in the world today one can easily find as much material stating that Barak Obama is. The truth seems silly, as the same proof that worried me of Bush’s numerology is used to undermine our new president.
I am, by the way, entirely aware of the implied grandeur in that prior statement. It was a joke.
These insane ramblings of an insecure teenager going through a phase of being an outsider have been slightly edited from their original pen and ink phrasing. I don’t think I had read this work for 6 years when I found the old mostly empty notebook I found. It had my brother’s name on the front page and was written like an eight year old that wanted to emulate the writers in our family before either losing the notebook or losing interest.
Therefore it is Whitey the Crime.