Wednesday, June 16, 2010

Radiohead (Catching Frequencies No One Hears)

Shit. I'm letting the facade slip too much. Today one of my new friends said he thinks I've got a "maniacal" laugh and asked me to stop.

I don't have many people to hang out with after my NewAge ex-wife killed her mother, and most of our old friends defended her, saying our marriage's break-up was my fault, specifically because I'm "a man". After she killed two more people, most of the others slunk away, too, unable to look me in the eye because of whatever it was they collectively - and wrongly - thought they were accusing me of.

When this new friend admonished me, I was reading about Gary Brooks Faulkner, the guy who said God spoke in his dreams, sending him to Pakistan on a mission to kill bin Laden. I started laughing when reading that his brother, Scott Faulkner, said "He's as normal as you and I."

So now I've got to watch my back: if it gets out that I don't share in these particular forms of "normal", I'll be completely isolated again, and might have to move.

People are fucking brutal.

I haven't heard one word suggesting my ex, Karine Anne Brunck, is going to prison. The NewAge quack she was working with in France, Robert Wohlfahrt, lost his practice but, as far as I know, that's all that happened. It makes me feel sick to know the kind of people they are, enjoying restaurants and spas, can be going on about their lives after taking someone else's, but I'm not surprised.

When it comes to spirituality, believers can get away with anything - including murder.

That's not an easy lesson to live with. Even worse, once it's put in your head as aggressively as it's been put in mine, it's also not an easy one to hide.

I met a chiropractor the other day and it didn't go well. Part of the reason was his being a disgustingly smug San Franciscan, but the main reason is "Quack! Quack! Quack!" kept screaming in my head.

Certainly, things went a bit better when I met the beautiful daughter of a friend - also a chiropractor. We talked pretty casually for a while, but then she asked me how it was I'm still available and why I'm no longer playing music.

By now I have an (admittedly unconvincing) cover story that she wasn't buying - How do I explain losing a career that put me in league with the rich and famous? - but, after I explained what had happened to my marriage, and she scrunched up her face and said I must be mistaken because "Homeopathy is natural herbal medicine" it didn't matter anyway.

This whole situation is just crazy.

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