RuKsaK

One of my least favourite quotations is:
‘Travel broadens the mind.’

I don’t know who said it. I don’t fucking care if it was Billy Wobbledagger. I hope it wasn’t, or if so, in an obscure sonnet, so he’s not outed as a turd. He was right when he said:
‘I had rather have a fool to make me merry than experience to make me sad; and to travel for it too!’
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In Moscow, I saw the first dog in space – Strelka. Strelka translates as ‘arrow’ and when he came back from his pant-pissing orbit, Strelka was still barking, farting and burying bones. No apparent mind-broadening. The Russkies at Star City called the next dog Beylka, meaning ‘squirrel’. Perhaps in an attempt to confuse the poor bastard before a space trip and measure his reaction on return. Beylka is on record as having never said:
‘I’m not a fucking squirrel any more than Yuri Gagarin is a kettle.’

Again, suggesting travel does not strengthen or create intellect.
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Before I became a permanent, professional foreigner seven years ago, I used to slobber such affected, bald phrases as:
‘All people are equal.’

My spine twitches when I hear someone say this now.
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My five years in Russia taught me the language, so I can say stuff like:
‘18th Century monks made this pink, pearl necklace with their teeth.’

I’m fucked if someone asks me the way to the local chemist. I also cannot say:
‘Travel broadens the mind,’ in Russian.

From the Middle East I’ve developed a stolid abhorrence of Islam, which makes friends unnerved.

From Sri Lanka, Thailand and Korea, Buddhists have endeared me, but still left me a little acerbic – too much grinning with hanging teeth.

Russia broadened my sphincter more than anything, plus my belly, receding hairline and broken red corpuscles. In fairness to Russia my sphincter is now a dangling raggy mop.

Moscow and Jeddah ganged up on me and piled on the paranoia – expanding more sphincter and eye width.

Seoul’s made me realise it ain’t got none of its sounds-sake.

The seven years have transformed my body more than my mind. Both getting thicker and gluier in unison.
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Got back from Bangkok this morning. A fuckstinkdog of a city – a real dump-stain in the world, and Bangkok’s Chinatown is Bangkok’s dump-stain. I picked up a plastic train set, a t-shirt and four cancers in the two hours we spent there – all for under a quid. Loved the place and hope to move there after my contract’s up in ‘ain’t got none.’
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Ha! Foreigness has given me a meagre sense of who I am – wit or bore. It has not shaped my mind.

The mind of a small Russian dog is bigger then the biggest travel.
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Anyway, thanks for listening. Thailand was fucking lovely and here’s a picture of lots of cocks in a sandy cave. Hoorah!

Lots of lovely wooden cock.

Friday, December 24, 2004

Travel