Archive for the ‘Mephistic Moments’ Category

Mephisto Is In The Building

I would like to report, with much great joy, and consternation [not to me], that Mephisto is alive and well.

Mephisto has not left the building. He never did. He is still here by my side, more benign and less aggressive than the Mephisto of yore. He tells me that he is too tired of all that aggro <shrug>, and simply wants to kick back, enjoy his life and have a laugh. Mephisto’s wicked sense of humour which he gets from me, is in fine form just ask Soul Sister. I think she has fallen hard for him!

He tells me that the energy required to bray with donkeys, converse with idiots, and continually rebut lies that are perpetuated about Deafness and disability, is too draining. But I didn’t think so at the time, I was raring to go spit chips and snarl, so I allowed him, Mephisto, to possess my body and give free reign to his acerbic wit and aggression.

It was a deliberate act on my part, allowing Mephisto to voice and express the aggression and acerbic wit that lay dormant within me. My modus operandi was to show Hearing people that Deaf people can match their wit and intelligence, word for word, thought for thought, dagger for dagger, and spit for spit!

I laughed as Mephisto’s eyes lit up, when he baited people just to watch them stumble. I split my sides watching Mephisto scour the dictionaries and thesauruses to give his writings a more literary bent. I even helped him make up words that did not exist, but were linguistically or grammatically correct. Don’t ask me to quote you any, I could find them if I tried, but I can’t be arsed. They are there; all you gotta do is read.

I haven’t been blogging as much of late.  With my internal metamorphosis, and the loss of interest in writing purely about Deaf shit, I just cannot muster the energy to counteract the bullshit that cloaks a lot of writings about deafness and Deafness. Nor can I be arsed to deal summarily with the attitudes of many of the bloggers and writers out there, whose views on deafness are shaped by nothing more than opinion, content to wallow in a thinking that demands nothing more of them, than for them to respond to an idea with more ideas, based on nothing but ideas. But as you know, once a person has an opinion, it is sacrosanct.

No one really has anything new to say about Deafness. That is not strictly true. Research in Deaf Studies [social and cultural] are enlightening, but otherwise it is the same flatulating [there's a new word for ya] bullshit  about communication methods, how we are all the same in spite of the rejection of social and cultural model of deafness,  and how happy a deaf person would be if they could just speak and hear! Sure, now fuck me dead!

Anyway, blag, blag, blag, but Mephisto and I are a happy couple now. It is a great feeling not to be rent with so much aggro.  That’s all I wanted to say really.

The Letting Go (A Requiem For Old Tone)

Yesterday, 20 December, 2009, I held a memorial service for Old Tone.  Old Tone died on 6 November, 2009, after his last counselling session. His ghost has been wandering around lost, and until now, did not find peace. The fault is mine, I guess. For selfish reasons, I held onto him, and would not let him go. I couldn’t, not just yet. I needed a hand to hold onto until I found my feet, as Tony.

There is so much that I want to say about the memorial service, and there is so much I would like to share, but the experience was a mystical one. How do you use words to describe Old Tone’s apparition swimming in the tide? How do you use words to describe the resulting conversation? How do you use words to describe Old Tone’s spirit dancing on the water before being subsumed into the sea? How do you describe in words, Old Tone using the force of the tide to gently rebut my plea for him to let me go?

When your nights are troubled
And you’re all alone
When you’re feeling Down
And need some sympathy
And there’s no one else around
To keep you company
Remember baby
You can always count on me
I’ll Be Home
(X3)

The ritual we followed on the day was a simple one.  We agreed that we would each choose a spot on the beach [Bundeena, across the water from Cronulla beach, Sydney, NSW], where we would conduct our letting go, in silence, on our own. When each of us has completed our meditation, and cast the bottle containing our eulogy into the water, we came together to release the balloons.

I composed my eulogy in the car, as we were driving to Bundeena. I had no idea of what I was going to write. I only had the mantra, the word “Me!” in my head. After a while, the following words poured out:

Today is the day I let go. Today is the day I throw off the shackles of the old me, to make way for the new me. Today I say goodbye to fear and uncertainty, and say hello to, “It will be, as it will be!”

It’s been along time coming, so Old Tone, don’t worry about me, all will be well. So off you go and don’t look back, because when you turn, I will be gone!

But thank you for keeping me company all these years, it has been fun but now it’s time for me to move on.

So Old Tone, with these words, I set you free, and allow you to find the peace that you seek. I have mine, and it is here with me.

I hug you and I kiss you, and I bid you adieu! XXXXX

I’m not going to tell you about Noreen’s ritual, that’s her story to share with you. But I will share mine with you.

I chose to stand in the water, knee deep. Water is an appropriate medium. It is a cooling element to the heat of my fire. I stood in the water, and stared out across the bay. I wanted to empty my mind before I could speak, so I focussed on the ebb of the tide. In and out, the water trickled around my feet. As my mind emptied, I began to speak to Old Tone. We took turns at speaking. As the tide pulled back, I asked Old Tone to let me go, and he would reply with a gentle rebuttal. The more we spoke, the stronger and higher the tide.

For a brief moment, I saw Old Tone’s spirit sparkle and dance on the water, before it was subsumed into the sea. I threw the bottle into the water, and watched as it reluctantly floated away. The resistance from me was minimal. Old Tone came back at me, knocking me off my feet. Dripping wet, I got back up, and started to walk back onto the dry sand. I turned and glanced as the bottle drifted away.

I turned to my friend Noreen, her eyes were wet.

Noreen and I then got our balloons, standing on one of the rocks; we said our goodbyes and dropped the balloons into the water. We watched as they drifted away. We stayed in the silence, until I broke it with a scream.

Wherever you may wander
And wherever you may roam
You come back
And I’ll be waiting here for you
No one else will ever love you The way I do
I’ll be here to comfort you
And see you through

I’ll Be Home (X3)

We adjourned for breakfast at a local cafe. It was wake. We didn’t speak of the morning’s events, preferring to reflect. Instead, Phillip, who kindly drove us to the beach, and leant us his support, chatted about movies, business and getting out there and doing stuff. Just doing stuff!

Old Tone is gone. I am here in his place. But I was not ready to go home.

I called two friends, Joshua and The Scarlett Tiger. After a flurry of SMS messages, I ended up at The Scarlett Tiger’s home. I was feeling light headed and vulnerable, and I needed some grounding. Sitting in the loungeroom, I described the morning’s events. That a 48 year old man, could talk to a 22 year old, and find that the 22 year old actually gets it, is amazing. I am blessed. Then again, the Scarlett Tiger is kindred spirit.

Before he left, Old Tone charged me with the task of resolving his differences with Joshua. This is in the process of being taken care of. I am unsure as to how do resolve the situation, or what to say, and as the Scarlett Tiger said to me, “Old Tone is gone. You have to do what the New Tone will do!”

From the Kentucky coal mines to the California sun,
Hey, Bobby shared the secrets of my soul.
Through all kinds of weather, through everything we done,
Hey Bobby baby? kept me from the cold.
One day up near Salinas, I let him slip away,
He’s looking for that home and I hope he finds it,

Me And Bobby McGee

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