Diseased Fate Lines
*
At least in the morning, the streets of Bangkok were quiet. Like a neutron bomb had gone off in the midst of Calcutta and the people were no more, the sun rose over the haphazard houses and apartment blocks. Then the streets were full of queues of Red shirt demonstrators, cheerful, waving from buses and vans, whistling, laughing. They were cheerful despite the obvious discomfort. Many had traveled a long way to be here. They walked down the streets. It was nothing to do with them. But here he was, a part of history, again. A history that was never going to be his, not now, here at the end of life. Why had he ever thought one story would make a difference amongst all the millions. He listened to old hippies play songs in late night bars. He watched the Thais charm their way through everything.
The Red Shirts whistled and supporters waved enthusiastically from the side. Many small shop keepers wore red in support. But like every big city, life went on in other sections as if nothing was happening. A 3D Phone promotion went on outside the Siam Paragon centre as if there weren't tens of thousands marching in the street, hoping to overthrow the government. As if nothing but wealth and technology mattered. He had crossed so many fate lines, only to end up back here. Nothing made sense. His head hurt. His visa was too short to do anything. All the plans had come to nought, because he had followed a different path, heading to Cambodia, welcome, welcome, as if all was grand, as if all mattered, as if the crumbling streets and filthy piles of garbage, the beggars heading towards them, really didn't exist.
It wasn't easy to be this mentally deranged on a somewhat semi-permanent basis, as if nothing would be right again, as if he had seen too much and could no longer cope. The demonstrators would once have been the subject of endless fascination. He would have had to write about them, as a way of understanding what was happening. Now the collapsing paths, the collapse of the multiverse down to a few single strands, had changed everything. He could feel the sad sack characters amongst them all. He could find his way clear through to the darkness; whatever that meant. The crowds swirled beneath him, in a pristine, air conditioned world. They were all so young.
The girls, so many, so many, so well dressed, looked up admiringly at their boy friends. Good girls. In other parts of town tattoos snaked up their legs and across their breasts, and the discipline of the Falun Gong called, other spiritual traditions, and paths, pathways, opened up. He listened to their stories. He sighed internally at every cliche; but there he was, again. He sought peace and found nothing but a harsh likeness. He knew now where he could find the Heart of Darkness, whenever he wanted. They couldn't match his despair, self abnegation. The delusion he could drink normally, be a part of every day life.
They signaled contempt, for themselves, for others. They said, shattered, come with me, dance with me, whisper in my ear. He was snaking past everything that had ever mattered. Things that could so easily have been had already disappeared. Wasted days, wasted ways. There were so few alternatives, so few ways out. He could grasp their clear passage through to another life; but didn't believe it, not now, not with a vicious headache mixing with the heat and the shouts of the red shirts, the sight of police with riot shields up the edge of streets, the dancing denouement of everything they had ever believed in. His story was only just beginning. Dance with me, dance with me.
When he looked through troubled fate, existed entirely alone, watching and listening as the most disturbed images went round and around, provoking, trying to break through. Everything had been turned upside down and inside out. Chaos reigned. He had lost feeling at the end of his fingers and the tips of his hair. Rock music echoed through the most modern of department stores. There were people every where. Nothing was quiet here, nothing. He watched; and was a part of nothing. There could be no other way out. He surrendered and died. Self abnegation took over. But it's not like that at all, the man said. You do not become like a dead fish; something flapping in the wind. He had escaped one diseased fate line, only to be trapped by another. It was easy to be sad. His head pounded into oblivion.
THE BIGGER STORY:
http://www.abc.net.au/news/stories/2010/03/14/2845378.htm?section=world
About 80,000 anti-government protesters have amassed in the streets of Thailand's capital, Bangkok.
Royal Thai Police say the number of red shirts, supporters of former prime minister Thaksin Shinawatra, is expected to reach at least 100,000, with more protesters arriving every hour.
The leaders of the demonstration have given the government an ultimatum to dissolve parliament within 24 hours and call fresh elections.
The protesters say if their demands are not met their protest will spread to a number of other sites.
Mr Shinawatra won two elections but was ousted by mass protests and a military coup in 2006.
His supporters say his conviction last month on corruption charges was rigged.
"He does for every people, for every poor people, for farmers get money and every poor person get money and get a job and bring civilisation to our country," student Kelly Gaertz said.
http://news.sky.com/skynews/Home/World-News/Thailand-Thousands-Of-Red-Shirt-Protesters-Demonstrate-Against-Prime-Minister-Abhisit-Vejjajive
As tens of thousands of anti government demonstrators gathered in Bangkok, British holidaymakers in Thailand have been warned that the political situation is increasingly "volatile".
The Foreign Office has warned that "British nationals should exercise extreme caution throughout the country and avoid demonstration and large gatherings, which may turn violent".
More than 800,000 British tourists visited Thailand last year.
An estimated 80,000 "red shirt" pro democracy supporters of former premier Thaksin Shinawatra, who was ousted in a military coup four years ago, have been pouring into Bangkok.
They will give Thailand's military backed government a final ultimatum to call new elections or face days of widespread protest.
Thousands more demonstrators are expected to arrive later.
The leaders of the "Red Shirt" protest insist their rally will be carried out peacefully and are calling on the current Prime Minister Abhisit Vejjajive to dissolve parliament and call new elections.
"If Abhisit does not quit by Monday, we will march all over Bangkok," said Veera Musikapong, chairman of the protest group, the United Front for Democracy against Dictatorship (UDD).
At least in the morning, the streets of Bangkok were quiet. Like a neutron bomb had gone off in the midst of Calcutta and the people were no more, the sun rose over the haphazard houses and apartment blocks. Then the streets were full of queues of Red shirt demonstrators, cheerful, waving from buses and vans, whistling, laughing. They were cheerful despite the obvious discomfort. Many had traveled a long way to be here. They walked down the streets. It was nothing to do with them. But here he was, a part of history, again. A history that was never going to be his, not now, here at the end of life. Why had he ever thought one story would make a difference amongst all the millions. He listened to old hippies play songs in late night bars. He watched the Thais charm their way through everything.
The Red Shirts whistled and supporters waved enthusiastically from the side. Many small shop keepers wore red in support. But like every big city, life went on in other sections as if nothing was happening. A 3D Phone promotion went on outside the Siam Paragon centre as if there weren't tens of thousands marching in the street, hoping to overthrow the government. As if nothing but wealth and technology mattered. He had crossed so many fate lines, only to end up back here. Nothing made sense. His head hurt. His visa was too short to do anything. All the plans had come to nought, because he had followed a different path, heading to Cambodia, welcome, welcome, as if all was grand, as if all mattered, as if the crumbling streets and filthy piles of garbage, the beggars heading towards them, really didn't exist.
It wasn't easy to be this mentally deranged on a somewhat semi-permanent basis, as if nothing would be right again, as if he had seen too much and could no longer cope. The demonstrators would once have been the subject of endless fascination. He would have had to write about them, as a way of understanding what was happening. Now the collapsing paths, the collapse of the multiverse down to a few single strands, had changed everything. He could feel the sad sack characters amongst them all. He could find his way clear through to the darkness; whatever that meant. The crowds swirled beneath him, in a pristine, air conditioned world. They were all so young.
The girls, so many, so many, so well dressed, looked up admiringly at their boy friends. Good girls. In other parts of town tattoos snaked up their legs and across their breasts, and the discipline of the Falun Gong called, other spiritual traditions, and paths, pathways, opened up. He listened to their stories. He sighed internally at every cliche; but there he was, again. He sought peace and found nothing but a harsh likeness. He knew now where he could find the Heart of Darkness, whenever he wanted. They couldn't match his despair, self abnegation. The delusion he could drink normally, be a part of every day life.
They signaled contempt, for themselves, for others. They said, shattered, come with me, dance with me, whisper in my ear. He was snaking past everything that had ever mattered. Things that could so easily have been had already disappeared. Wasted days, wasted ways. There were so few alternatives, so few ways out. He could grasp their clear passage through to another life; but didn't believe it, not now, not with a vicious headache mixing with the heat and the shouts of the red shirts, the sight of police with riot shields up the edge of streets, the dancing denouement of everything they had ever believed in. His story was only just beginning. Dance with me, dance with me.
When he looked through troubled fate, existed entirely alone, watching and listening as the most disturbed images went round and around, provoking, trying to break through. Everything had been turned upside down and inside out. Chaos reigned. He had lost feeling at the end of his fingers and the tips of his hair. Rock music echoed through the most modern of department stores. There were people every where. Nothing was quiet here, nothing. He watched; and was a part of nothing. There could be no other way out. He surrendered and died. Self abnegation took over. But it's not like that at all, the man said. You do not become like a dead fish; something flapping in the wind. He had escaped one diseased fate line, only to be trapped by another. It was easy to be sad. His head pounded into oblivion.
THE BIGGER STORY:
http://www.abc.net.au/news/stories/2010/03/14/2845378.htm?section=world
About 80,000 anti-government protesters have amassed in the streets of Thailand's capital, Bangkok.
Royal Thai Police say the number of red shirts, supporters of former prime minister Thaksin Shinawatra, is expected to reach at least 100,000, with more protesters arriving every hour.
The leaders of the demonstration have given the government an ultimatum to dissolve parliament within 24 hours and call fresh elections.
The protesters say if their demands are not met their protest will spread to a number of other sites.
Mr Shinawatra won two elections but was ousted by mass protests and a military coup in 2006.
His supporters say his conviction last month on corruption charges was rigged.
"He does for every people, for every poor people, for farmers get money and every poor person get money and get a job and bring civilisation to our country," student Kelly Gaertz said.
http://news.sky.com/skynews/Home/World-News/Thailand-Thousands-Of-Red-Shirt-Protesters-Demonstrate-Against-Prime-Minister-Abhisit-Vejjajive
As tens of thousands of anti government demonstrators gathered in Bangkok, British holidaymakers in Thailand have been warned that the political situation is increasingly "volatile".
The Foreign Office has warned that "British nationals should exercise extreme caution throughout the country and avoid demonstration and large gatherings, which may turn violent".
More than 800,000 British tourists visited Thailand last year.
An estimated 80,000 "red shirt" pro democracy supporters of former premier Thaksin Shinawatra, who was ousted in a military coup four years ago, have been pouring into Bangkok.
They will give Thailand's military backed government a final ultimatum to call new elections or face days of widespread protest.
Thousands more demonstrators are expected to arrive later.
The leaders of the "Red Shirt" protest insist their rally will be carried out peacefully and are calling on the current Prime Minister Abhisit Vejjajive to dissolve parliament and call new elections.
"If Abhisit does not quit by Monday, we will march all over Bangkok," said Veera Musikapong, chairman of the protest group, the United Front for Democracy against Dictatorship (UDD).
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