Monday, September 21, 2015

WHEN ONE IS NEVER TRULY ALONE ...

This evening's bus back from Marin was, in a word, bizarre. And if you want to know why, it's because hot weather awakens the dormant brain worms in some people, which then begin twitching excitedly, and interfering with their "normal" synapses. Or burrowing deeper.
They start doing strange things.
And ululating.

Golden Gate Transit does not usually host the batshit crazy contingent; that's Muni's (SFMTA's) prerogative.

Behind me I could hear Arabic, Persian, and Hindi being spoken. That, of course, is to be expected. The Bay Area has lots of programmers and hospitality industry professionals from any number of ancestral sods.
Multiple languages are spoken in this part of the world.
We are a proudly diverse region.


The two middle-aged ladies sitting nearest, however, were not having any of it. One of them was speculating loudly and continuously about a bus full of rapists and sodomites, in addition to blackmailers and strong-arm bandits, and her companion was panicking and insistently urging the bus-driver to hurry dammit, in between muttering that if they didn't get back to Market Street before dark, they'd never get home alive.
It is the criminal element, Margaret!

When the bus driver sped up to get through a yellow light, I could hear one of them gratefully exclaiming that he was a life-saver, lordy, he'd have them reach sanctuary yet!

Sanctuary. Pronounced 'sunkshur-e'.

When I started clarifying to an attractive young Taiwanese woman how to return to Sausalito, it flipped them. They finally realized that the foreign legions had them surrounded. At one point I turned around and asked them to hush now dearie, and the frizzier-haired exemplar snapped that she would not be spoken to in such a manner by a communist.
Which is when I should have started singing the Internationale.
But that might have upset the Taiwanese girl.
Who was rather cute.

So, no rendition of 'Die Internationale', alas.
Which I sing entirely in German.

"Wacht auf, verdamten dieser erde, die stets man noch zum hungern zwingt,
Das recht, wie glut im kraterherde, nun mit macht zum durbruch dringt..."

[起來,飢寒交迫的奴隸!起來,全世界受苦的人!]


I always voice that song whenever I'm dealing with Neanderthalers and other slope-browed retrograde rightwing reactionaries.
For their entire tribe, I encourage apoplexy.
It's an attempt to improve the world.

German singing does that.

My only real regret is that I never got to explain my theory about brain worms symbiotically spelunking in the craniums of unstable people.
I think it illustrates the unique qualities of my commute.
She disembarked before we reached that moment.


Brainworms. And extremely hot weather.

Quod erat demonstrandum, babies.

A logical reason for everything.

Except for the wet seat.

That was an accident.

That is, probably.

Not certain.





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