Nemo’s Note: The piece was originally published in The Free Press Journal. I am reupping it to commemorate the Bengali birth anniversary of the second greatest polymath from Bengal.
Okay, having won my war with millions of flying mango maggots, I am ready to get to this.
Idolaters are pathetic. Endlessly fawning rhapsodic over any man makes you less than a man. Obviously, you can admire others for their talents, and accomplishments, but to castigate anyone for not sharing your appreciation puts you in league with dumb beasts.
Please correct me if I am incorrect, but Tagore was not a fan of nationalism. Ironic, then, is it not, that he is the sacred cow of Bengali nationalism?
Nationalism is as pathetic as idolatry, and more dangerous. All too often, it's a tool used by evil-doers to do us vs. them evil - see Voltaire on absurdities and atrocities.
How, pray tell, can someone be vicariously proud? Tagore was a great man, so I, too am a great man, because I was born in the same geographic region as he! To be proud of a nation's alleged greatness, while having never contributed anything to the alleged greatness is nothing less than a comical delusion.
It all comes down to fear, and love, though, n'est-ce pas? Tribalism. There is safety in the tribe. My tribe loves me... so long as I don't do, or say anything that any of them will be offended by.
All that said, I spotted an enormous opportunity to exploit Tagore, in a manner that would be to the liking of his ghost, when I first got to Santiniketan, which is not the utopian abode of peace he had hoped for.
Alas, no one wanted to hear it. Not the children of Tagore, nor the VC of VB. It has been opined, by one who was born and raised in this hallowed land, that my mistake in proposing the scheme was failing to be endowed with the knowledge that Bengalis are far more lazy than they are proud, and building a better world, or even a functional ashram, requires hard work.
Although I can't pick up EVERYTHING you're laying down here, it's a solid piece, boss. Slaughtering sacred cows is fun, huh? Especially when you don't so much as stick a pin into the beloved beast, yet the muddle-minded devotees take up arms against you, anyway.
Having lived in Santiniketan for a not inconsiderable length of time, I believe I am qualified to engage you on the subject, and will do so, but not forthwith, as I am working on a new story, which has a great ending, but no sound bridge to get to it, yet. I know you know my pain!
Please bear with me, as I ignore you, while trying to answer Robert Plant's vexing question - where's that confounded bridge?
However, I fear that may be a bridge to far for this job. That's okay, though, because I think I have cracked it. I'm gonna sit on it, over night, to see if I still respect it in the morning.
But I am still not prepared to parlez on the subjects of your recent juicy fruit, w00t w00t!
I want to be on my A game for this one, because I gotta lotta to say on the subjects, and I still need to focus my creative subconscious on this beauty I'm cooking up.
That said, here's an appetizer for you: if Tagore was such a genius, so worldly, why didn't he plant any avocado trees here? Huh?
I just bought an avocado, the first one I have seen in the donkey years I've been in this no horse podunk. It cost me... wait for it... 300 rupees!
Now, I have to wait, two or three days, before I can eat the damn thing. And I'll have to sleep with it under my pillow, next to my loaded 44 magnum, because if the monkeys find out I have an avocado, they'll be all over me like white on snow, tearing me limb from limb, to get it.
If I survive long enough to enjoy this rarest of treats, it better be good. Hell, for 300 rupees, this avocado should suck my dick.
WTF, Captain? Why no avocado trees here? Bengali exceptionalism? My ass! Grow some avocado trees first, then start running your mouths about Bengali exceptionalism.
****
HEY! I can't add a pic to this. Damn. i got my AI rabbit to whip up a pic of Tagore trying to kill a monkey for his avocado, and I can't share it. Damn you, substack! Damn you all to Hell.
I don't Twitter. But I posted it on your latest stack note. It's not very good, anyway, so I shot my AI rabbit.
Well, I shot him because he demanded a carrot for that rot, and would not go back to the drawing until I gave it to him.
These fucking machines gotta learn who the boss is, or t's gonna be Terminator HR Giger edit, with a headful of Woodstock brown acid for all of us, donchya know?
Okay, having won my war with millions of flying mango maggots, I am ready to get to this.
Idolaters are pathetic. Endlessly fawning rhapsodic over any man makes you less than a man. Obviously, you can admire others for their talents, and accomplishments, but to castigate anyone for not sharing your appreciation puts you in league with dumb beasts.
Please correct me if I am incorrect, but Tagore was not a fan of nationalism. Ironic, then, is it not, that he is the sacred cow of Bengali nationalism?
Nationalism is as pathetic as idolatry, and more dangerous. All too often, it's a tool used by evil-doers to do us vs. them evil - see Voltaire on absurdities and atrocities.
How, pray tell, can someone be vicariously proud? Tagore was a great man, so I, too am a great man, because I was born in the same geographic region as he! To be proud of a nation's alleged greatness, while having never contributed anything to the alleged greatness is nothing less than a comical delusion.
As for gurus:
https://absurdiumsnonillegitimi.substack.com/p/guru-my-ass
It all comes down to fear, and love, though, n'est-ce pas? Tribalism. There is safety in the tribe. My tribe loves me... so long as I don't do, or say anything that any of them will be offended by.
All that said, I spotted an enormous opportunity to exploit Tagore, in a manner that would be to the liking of his ghost, when I first got to Santiniketan, which is not the utopian abode of peace he had hoped for.
Alas, no one wanted to hear it. Not the children of Tagore, nor the VC of VB. It has been opined, by one who was born and raised in this hallowed land, that my mistake in proposing the scheme was failing to be endowed with the knowledge that Bengalis are far more lazy than they are proud, and building a better world, or even a functional ashram, requires hard work.
Although I can't pick up EVERYTHING you're laying down here, it's a solid piece, boss. Slaughtering sacred cows is fun, huh? Especially when you don't so much as stick a pin into the beloved beast, yet the muddle-minded devotees take up arms against you, anyway.
Having lived in Santiniketan for a not inconsiderable length of time, I believe I am qualified to engage you on the subject, and will do so, but not forthwith, as I am working on a new story, which has a great ending, but no sound bridge to get to it, yet. I know you know my pain!
Please bear with me, as I ignore you, while trying to answer Robert Plant's vexing question - where's that confounded bridge?
The Bridge you ask? Over Troubled Waters of course in the immortal words of Simon and Garfunkel.
Nice one. You're a quick draw, McGraw.
However, I fear that may be a bridge to far for this job. That's okay, though, because I think I have cracked it. I'm gonna sit on it, over night, to see if I still respect it in the morning.
But I am still not prepared to parlez on the subjects of your recent juicy fruit, w00t w00t!
I want to be on my A game for this one, because I gotta lotta to say on the subjects, and I still need to focus my creative subconscious on this beauty I'm cooking up.
That said, here's an appetizer for you: if Tagore was such a genius, so worldly, why didn't he plant any avocado trees here? Huh?
I just bought an avocado, the first one I have seen in the donkey years I've been in this no horse podunk. It cost me... wait for it... 300 rupees!
Now, I have to wait, two or three days, before I can eat the damn thing. And I'll have to sleep with it under my pillow, next to my loaded 44 magnum, because if the monkeys find out I have an avocado, they'll be all over me like white on snow, tearing me limb from limb, to get it.
If I survive long enough to enjoy this rarest of treats, it better be good. Hell, for 300 rupees, this avocado should suck my dick.
WTF, Captain? Why no avocado trees here? Bengali exceptionalism? My ass! Grow some avocado trees first, then start running your mouths about Bengali exceptionalism.
****
HEY! I can't add a pic to this. Damn. i got my AI rabbit to whip up a pic of Tagore trying to kill a monkey for his avocado, and I can't share it. Damn you, substack! Damn you all to Hell.
Send it on Twitter?
I don't Twitter. But I posted it on your latest stack note. It's not very good, anyway, so I shot my AI rabbit.
Well, I shot him because he demanded a carrot for that rot, and would not go back to the drawing until I gave it to him.
These fucking machines gotta learn who the boss is, or t's gonna be Terminator HR Giger edit, with a headful of Woodstock brown acid for all of us, donchya know?