IT ALL STARTED IN GREECE

                                                       IT ALL STARTED IN GREECE

                                            HARRY THOMAS DANVERS

 

          Such were the words, as I remember them, from Dr. Dow, in the history class, during my underguduate years at Columbia.

                   "There appeared the crux of western civilization, which, in essence, was defined by three salient scholars. The first was Socrates, the second Plato and then Aristotle, who culminated everything previously complied into what he called "deductive reasoning" This later became the germ for scientific advancement, which was not only a boon for the Western World, rather all mankind…"

           The reason I remember these words bordered on several issues, which, instinctively, put me at a disagreeance.  In the first place there were many civilizations before Greece. What preceded the Egyptians, I was not sure, but Greece, to me, was but a drop in the philosophical ocean. The tapestry of minds, which had come down to us, was like a Turkish rug, continually to be walked over and left threadbare.

            Those were the thoughts that ran through my mind at the time; although I am not certain if they were the exact words. It was as though his rigid doctrine pierced my heart, which remains the guardian of the soul.

             I later went on to get my Masters and PhD in Philosophy and many years later retired from a small college in West Virginia.

             I expounded the curriculum, which Dr. Dow had expostulated and which I scorned, with subdued delight. I got my tenure, grew a beard, and shacked up with a student, in my final year before retirement. I don't recall how I performed, but she did pass the course.

           If it all started in Greece, with its rise and fall, then essentially there was nothing to learn. I considered that history is the conscience of mankind…and if it forever stoops to frivolity; where will it end?

JUAN PEREZ

                                                                     JUAN PEREZ

                                                  HARRY THOMAS DANVERS

 

                          "I was born on a finca on the coast. Costa Cuca,Palestina departamento Suchitapequez. I left that place seven years ago and came here. I was retired from the finca,"he remarked, as we sat together in the rear of my language school. We had a hard rainy season and I had hired him for the day to cut through the accumulated undergrowth. "I am seventy eight years old and I don't see too well. It's like a blur in front of my eyes. I can't hear very well either. My name is Juan Perez, "he continued in a desultory way, as a means of introduction.

             He was about five feet tall, with hands and feet equally calloused with time, while his arms and legs were toughened with years of hard work. He was accompanied by a big, white dog, which appeared to be as docile as he was. At the same time they seemed to silently understand each other, with a perfect match between canine and human sentiments.

                            "I had a wife and family but my wife died and the children all grew up and left the finca. I don't know where they are. I came here because my uncle, who is also called Juan Perez, lives here. He had land and a house, but he sold it. Someone swindled him and now he has nothing. So, I have no place to go. I'm too old for anyone to give me work and even when I do get it; it's not the same as before."he explained, through cataract eyes and not hearing a thing.

              He sat there, with his well worn machete across his legs. He must have had it for fifty years or more. He couldn't see it clearly, but he ran his ancient hand over it, almost with a caress. He was actually testing its sharpness, for if the blade was dull, he couldn't do the job.

                              "No, life changes and nothing remains the same. You are born, get married, raise a family and serve the owner of the finca. That is everything and then the finca no longer produces. The boss goes away and the people he owned either die or drift away. Like myself." he said, in the same monotone, through broken teeth and translating his thoughts from the ancient Maya tongue, to Spanish.

               I had been living in Latin America for forty years, so I knew what he was talking about. Yes, we all drift away, I considered, although I did not try to relate this to Juan Perez, the nephew of Juan Perez. This was partly due to the fact that I knew he would not be able to hear me. At the same time, it wasn't necessary, for he not only understood it, but had lived it as well.

TRUE TO LIFE

                   TRUE TO LIFE

          HARRY THOMAS DANVERS

 

         "And with our lifetime guarantee…"

     "Don't you think you should add gold to your portfolio…"

     "Long lasting resigulence…"

     " It's good for you too…"

     "Yes folks, we're going out of business…"

     "With an instant, financing program, you can be the owner of your own home…"

     "Wouldn't you really rather have a Buick?..."

   And it was all true to life; beyond the mixture of snacks, beer and remote control scanner which flipped the channels with acute duplicity.

   There was an easy chair, that was accommodated to extend the living form with its legs in an effort to recline. These were tangible realities, while the pertinent information went on:

      "Mr Clean will clean your whole house and everything that's in it…"

     "Use Babo the foaming cleanser. Wash the dirt right down the drain…"

     "Call for Philip Mor ezz!   "

     "If you are over forty and don't smoke cigarettes, we have the perfect life insurance policy for you…"

     "And the beat goes on…Plymouth wins you over and the beat goes on

     "Be happy go lucky…"

      Take a puff it's springtime"…

     "Winston tastes good like a cigarette should…"

     "Low on tar and nicotine…"

     "You've come a long way baby. You've got your own cigarette now baby. You've come a long, long way…"

   It never really stopped since its conception. It was still T.V.; the Talk Box, the center of the family gathering, as before was the huge radio, where the likes of Amos & Andy, Gang Busters and the Shadow, enthralled its listeners.

   However, this was something quite different.  It was visual as well as audio and the screens had gone from black and white to astonishing color and available in movie screen dimensions. It was colossal, definite and somewhat  alarming'

      "Ladies and gentlemen, the president of the United States…"

     "Oh say can you see…play ball…"

     "Just like I was protected by this invisible shield…"

     "Almost like real orange juice…"

     "Who put eight great tomatoes in that little bitty can…"

     "This is John Cameron Swazy with the news…"

     "Good night Chet.  Good night David…"

   There were some close-ups on the Vietnam war and the assassination of President Kennedy, but all of that was completely forgotten, as the screens grew in dimension, while the minds went in an opposite direction.

   No one could deny that it was an optical experience. The ingrediances were certainly there: the snacks, the beer, the reclining arm chair.

   Generations had come and gone and it was all true to life.

COME HELL OR HIGH WATER!

                                        COME HELL OR HIGH WATER!

                                 HARRY THOMAS DANVERS

 

                            "I don't remember when I ever saw anything like it! About three o'clock in the morning I went up on the second story and watched how the tin roof flopped up and down, until I thought I lost it all!"Haraldo confessed, as they sat huddled on the wet cement, in front of the cantina.

                 He didn't look at anyone as he spoke, neither did anyone look at him. He hadn't shaved for days and both the hair on his face and head appeared to have gotten a little whiter this last week, when the rain never ceased and everyone was short of Arcs.

                           "The whole side of our house caved in where we put the drainage pipes. The earth was soft because of that and now...Now we have a whole a kilometer wide!"

                 Chepe didn't look at anybody either and it was obvious that they were all in shock, for there were no exchanges of brotherly hugs or jokes, as was the Latin custom.

                           "And the hail storm we had before that?"Hector inquired. He was the4 first to stand up, as he was seated at the end of the stoop. "Did you ever see anything like that before?"

                     No one spoke, nor talked directly to anyone, for they were all reliving the tragedies of their real life dramas. Fortunately no one was killed or hurt in the barrio. There were a lot of repairs to be made, but he sky had cleared and they were only a little drunk.

                            "It's the same thing all over,"Rene, who was just one of their members who had lived in the States, said: "When I was in Kansas, they had tornados and in Texas draughts. A lot of hurricanes in Miami and floods in Ohio."

                            "My uncle lives in Chicago and he says you could freeze to death there just walking down the street in winter!" another one ventured.

                           "My aunt says the same thing about New York City!"yet another added in haste.

                 Perhaps they were unknowingly making allowances for their own natural disasters, in a world which was perplex and dubious in its final outcome. For whatever reason, it was all tied up with the final statement, by someone else who had lived in the States.

                           "I remember when I lived in Ohio, where I worked construction. I didn't speak much English, but there was a storm that washed away beams, blocks and cement.  The gringo that was the foreman there, cursed and kept saying the same thing."

                           "What did he say? "Everyone asked, as though coming painfully alive or shaken from a wretched dream:

                             "Come hell or high water!"Was his answer, but the pronunciation was so altered that it was incomprehensible. At the same time, no one knew English very well anyway.  Thus, they were left to look up at the sky and wait, expectedly.

THE DAY THE BANKS STOOD STILL

                                     THE DAY THE BANKS STOOD STILL

                                      HARRY THOMAS DANVERS

 

                    When "les enfant de la patria" stormed the formidable fortress of the Bastille, where human vermin were detained, along with an occasional clerk, who had slipped astray of one swindle or another, it was declared a revolution and all the banks took cover.

                     They did not disappear, as many declaimed, for without banks, essentially there is no nation. Neither did they coerce to the demands of the populous, for they were drunk on wine, rather than power. 

What they did do was a mystery to all; for they seemed to pacify both sides in a simultaneous assault on both the good and the evil, which ostensibly, the banks represented. A few wars were fought and then all was forgotten in time.

                 When the revolution of the "indignant"exploded several hundred years downs the line, it began in Madrid and not Paris. The new vermin proved to be college graduates and many with more than one degree.

                   They were distraught, for their futures were all attached to the banks, who kept them on a short leash. They were educated hounds, who were not used to getting their throats scared, by tight fitting, leather collars".

                     It was a Mexican standoff, the likes of which, many proclaimed, had not been witnessed in modern history.

                      Or so it was reported, by those who had not been clubbed by an innocuous police force, who were orchestrated to contain the said revolution.

                        Both the Republicans and the Democrats agreed that it was all a hoax and further, that if the banks failed, so would the nation.

                       This was a prolix situation at best, so a lot of paperwork was shuffled under non-existent tables, until it was reduced to cellophane, which self destructed, under technological eyes.

                         There were no soup kitchens yet, for everyone believed in their Blackberries to free them from this desperate situation.

                        There were a few stagnant moments on the Stock Exchange, but the banks survived.

                        The world protestors dispersed, due to heavy rain storms. The banks, which were made of granite, remained. Business went on as usual and a wag prophetically remarked, when it all ended where it all began:

                                      "It was the day the banks stood still.

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Dr Pepper's Last Stand

                                     DR PEPPER'S LAST STAND

 

                         HARRY THOMAS DANVERS

 

                       'I say it's not a recession and it never was. The word is depression with a capital D!" Dr Elmar Pepper pronounced in the House of Representatives, in an unprecedented speech. His colleagues referred to him as the Old Mothball."And furthermore, you can't cure a sick person if you don't know the disease. It's the same thing with our country'. We call it a cold, but we have pneumonia!"the old man declared in a hissing, Southern drawl.

     He had been a Congressman for as long as anyone could remember, from the great state of West-by god-Virginia. He favored an austere appearance, as with suits bought off the rack; cheap shirts and ties and it was even hinted that he wore long underwear during the winter months in Washington. He still had a full head of white hair, but this always seemed a little too long and unkempt.  Perhaps his worse vice was that he could play a mean fiddle, with his specialty being: Turkey in the Straw.

    It appeared that the rest of his colleagues were all under fifty and if they had passed that age, they were flabby, with a couple of bypasses and destined to the morgue, long before their time. They were also fastidious in their dress and attended to daily by an Italian barber, Greek manicurist and a French tailor.  Therefore their seams were never creased.

    Now the fact that Dr Pepper was ninety meant he was past retirement and everyone knew he had to go. Nevertheless, he was the Speaker of the House, so they had to listen to him. His remarks filtered in through messages sent over Blackberries, from constituents, in the far off states, which they represented.

    And who was this Dr.Pepper anyway? Everyone knew he had a theologian degree from some obscure or non-existent university, buried somewhere in Oklahoma or maybe Texas.  Dr of snake oils, is what the majority thought and perhaps they were right, but he seemed to love his country and certainly he was a duly elected official.

           "You all know that when we first started this country we were in terrible debt but with the help of God were got out of it. The position we were in after two world wars has brought us to the top of world domination, which means we have to be reckoned with. At the same time, since we are a world leader, we have to make sure our own house is in order.  We might follow the rules that FDR used during the depression in the thirties, but I don't think that would work today. We could print more money, but that would leave us with a Confederate Greenback. Just a piece of paper."Dr Pepper explained, but he could see that no one was listening to him. It was disheartening to think he was being ignored, not because it hurt his pride.  He had long ago given that up when he had entered public office. No, it was because he felt that these young Representatives didn't realize the responsibility which had been placed upon them by the citizens of the United States.  He knew due to his age and experience and therefore was determined to make them understand."At the same time, I don't pretend to have all the answers, although the problem is clear. That's why we're here and why you were all elected Federal officials. So, I suggest you all get your heads together and come up with some good ideas, because I'm not leaving this house, until it's put in order again!" This last burst of energy caused the other members of the House to pause for a moment. Was this man insane or just dotty? some considered, but his exit was unmistakable in its conviction, when he concluded: "You might want to call it Dr. Pepper's last stand."

The Ice-Cream Man

                                                     THE ICE-CREAM MAN

                                HARRY THOMAS DANVERS

 

          "No, you see, we make it all ourselves and there are no more cones that cost fifty cents. Oh no, only a quetzal and still the people buy it!"he exclaimed with delight, through gold tapped teeth and genuine enthusiasm.

           They were huddled together in a dark corner of the local cantina. It happened to be the only one in the neighborhood, which provided the industrious and weary inhabitants with their measure of local rum or below the table, homemade moonshine.

          There were three of them: the ice-cream man; the chauffer of the local bus (on his day off) and his youngest son, who was now old enough to drink.  They were all pretty well sauced and it appeared tht the money was coming from the profits of the ice-cream man. The ancient dark features of the patriarch were repeated in his son, who stood gravely at his side. The bus driver intent with the conversation, as the ice-cream man poured them both another drink and took one for himself.

       He had begun his business by going up and down unpaved roads on a bicycle. He later purchased a loud speaker, run by a battery, so that he could announce his coming.  He might have been the age of the son that was standing next to him, which was just before he got married and bought a mortorcycle. Later the streets were paved and he had children.  In a bleak corner of this dirty cantina, he was laying his life bare.

                        "You see, I have a special formula on how to make the ice-cream, but I'm not going to tell you about it because you might want to copy it and make competition with me, "he remarked with a sly insinuation of erudition, "There's also a way of reprocessing what you didn't sell one day to the next.  That's also a secret, because you can't destroy the quality, that the people know you for, even though we don't sell any more ice-creams for fifty cents and only a quetzal."

            His discourse provoked a thirst so he gulped down what he had in his glass and ordered another round. He figured that if each small bottle of rum cost seven quetzals, he had to sell seven ice-cream cones to meet that figure and with ten bottles on the table, that would mean seventy ice-cream cones and rising! But; he was happy.

            He had been born a peasant, in a nearby village, where he worked the land like his father and grandfather before him. That was the way of things, since the beginning of time. He was between seventy and eighty years old, but he had married young, when he only had a bicycle. Now he had ten grown children and more than twenty five grandchildren. He considered that perhaps the one standing next to him could inherit the business. He was apt enough and faithful to his father. It might happen that one day he would turn in the motorcycle for a car.  Nothing was impossible if one showed endurance toward adversities.

                    "So you see, if you sell quality, even if you have to raise your prices and reprocess what you didn't sell the day before, there is still a profit!"He exclaimed, with puerile delight.

         The Dona of the establishment came out to inform them that she was closing for the night, so they all got up and the ice-cream man paid.  They were all feeling at one with the world as they walked together on the dark street. The ice-cream man began to wonder how many cones he would have to sell to pay for this fiesta.  It didn't bother him much though, for through all his simplicity, he was a happy man.

GOOD NEWS FROM PLANET X

                                          GOOD NEWS FROM PLANET X

                              HARRY THOMAS DANVERS

             

   Since everything was concentrated on the head of a pin: that is to say economics, social structure, technological progress and perhaps art, the said planet found itself in a state of turmoil. That is to say, everything was functioning as usual, while the X part of its denominated space, offered the basic, algebraic symbol of uncertainty.

   Thus, the planet existed on such a high-tech level, that no printed books were made, neither magazines nor any other periodical.   It was direct, digital, deceiving and definite.

   Apparently something was happening, but the guise of future statistics had not been born.  Then the off button was flicked on and history (which never existed on Planet X) bared itself as either a new born virgin or an old whore.  It was fantastic, for the history (which was not history) suddenly

(and only momentarily) came to life.

   It was decisive, since it was unexpected and flaunted as being human. This was due to human error as well as natural causes.

   The bad news was that the people were dying, but people had always died on planet X. There were natural causes and wars.  Xerxes, the son of Darius, assembled a host of the best fighting appaparatus in the world, in order to conquer Greece.  Apparently the gods did not agree, so the Persians retreated, with their tails between their legs, back to the land of the barbarians.

   Then the English constructed such a formidable fleet, that they were certain to subdue China.

This created some good news for the aging planet X, but the fleet rusted and the ancient dragon woke up.

   The X part was handled by physicists and dealt with only by numbers and consequent theories.

   The planet, itself, was an abstract number.  It was so abstract, that it represented nothing. Yet there were people; plants, animals and such denizens of diversity (which were also united) so that if one element was dismissed, it seemed that the whole pattern was broken up.

   It was still filled with vices and virtues and hollow laments for its lost civilizations, but it was nevertheless intact and at best, this was good news for the Planet X.

 

 

 

WHAT THOMAS SAID IN THE PUB

WHAT THOMAS SAID IN THE PUB
by Harry Thomas Danvers on Friday, November 11, 2011 at 12:06pm


“I say the universe is square! Why should it be rounded like an egg? If it were rounded as such, we would all have an omelet for breakfast.

It was a logical argument and one that went down well with the boys on the dole. This was their cathedral; their harbinger of light. It might have consisted of four, dreary walls and the possibility of no exit; but alas! It was home.

“Now Thomas, that doesn’t seem logical at all. It’s like saying since the moon is made of green cheese, we should be able to flavor all our potatoes with its substance,”Patric ventured, who claimed that he was a veteran of the revolution, which apparently had no beginning although he sided with Yeats in that: A terrible beauty was born.

“I’m not talking about potatoes Patrick or eggs for that matter. That would have to come under a culinary subject. What I am speaking about deals with physics or perhaps you’re not acquainted with that science?”

A taste of the wonderful, tap beer had to be savored before an adequate response could be formed. It was precisely at that point that Kevin O’Brian, Jim McDonnell and Bill Delany joined the wonders of this Sunday afternoon fete, a la Irish. They were quickly served their mugs, without asking, from a fellow with a red beard, whose great grandfather had pumped suds at the same station.

“Now physics, even though it remains a serious mathematical study, is really based on metaphysics. Do you follow me Thomas?”Patrick inquired, to which the three newcomers trained their eyes on the one they assumed was the victim. Of course they had not heard the beginning of the discussion, but they were always willing for a fight; be it physical or otherwise

Thomas merely nodded his head. He allowed his eyelids to droop; not enough to plead defeat, but sufficiently deceptive to acknowledge this was becoming a recondite discourse. In fact he was about to elaborate, when McDonnell pointed out “Metaphysics is a science that defies reality to the point that any possibility can come into play, while physics attempts to coral it in numbers…”

“Like a horse?”Delany inquired with puerile glee.

“Any quadruple animal, “O’Brian quipped, taking a long pull from his mug.

Now the red bearded barman stopped his polishing of the well worn wood, for he sensed that there was something there which could be enjoyed about something he knew nothing about, albeit sensed it had to be interesting and perhaps was related to the same material his great grandfather had witnessed.

“Very true lad, but physics defines the idea, so that, mathematically speaking, you can’t put a round peg in a square hole. It doesn’t fit!”

“In other words, the universe cannot be square. It must be rounded,”O’Brian suggested, as though mocking his sagacity. Apparently it was lost on Patrick, who felt he had met his goal, as he burst out:

“Exactly!

At this point Thomas was about to give him a round house(scientifically speaking) but suddenly up comes Delany with another plausible reality.

“Now you all know that I was cop in Dublin, just like my father and grandfather before me, so I’ll rest this statement on their souls. We all had our beat and that was that. Some of it was padded with generosity while other parts were stark bare, if you know where I’m coming from . In other words there was a snatch of whisky when you needed it and not much there after that. But that’s not the point. The point is that it was all done on squares. The beat that is. It was all squared out and there were no circles. That’s a fact and therefore I must side with Thomas on this matter or risk the vengeance of my ancestors.”

“Flat feet neither make round nor square universes. Nor does rubber worn out on the bottom of your shoes provide you with a proper insight to either physics or metaphysics. I rest my case.”Patrick stated and that seemed to cause a counterstroke which put Thomas on the ropes although he was not quite on the floor. He had to say something, but his knees were weak and his mug was half empty. He could have pleaded for another one but he felt reluctant at this point of the contest and strangely enough, it was the red bearded barman, who came to his unexpected rescue.

“But we’re not talking about rubber or even shoes here. What we are talking about is the fact that the universe is either round or square. Thomas made the motion, which was fair enough and then Patrick and the other three jurists denied it but they haven’t given enough reason to wet my beak with their persuasions. Therefore I would like to know whether the universe is round or square, without having to kiss the blarney stone.”

“As a jourist,”McDonnell volunteered, “I feel that the issue cannot be adequately cleared up since one does not have a rope long enough to measure the universe and therefore there can be no answer here.”

“I agree, “O’Brian concured,”but not because there’s no answer. Many an answer has been distorted because no one understood the question…”

“I’ll drink to that!”Delany chimed in and presently all their mugs were filled, while their brains raced on.

For some reason they gulped that down and were given another by the silent man behind the bar. Apparently he was thinking too. What more could be said: That Ireland was not green? That there was no such thing as leprecouns? Absurd! Ridiculous! At least that much was established, but this thing about the universe was baffling and everyone must have agreed, for they had a few more tugs on their mugs and left in silence, without anything being resolved.

No one ever spoke again about that day, although it was well remembered. It was commonly referred to as: WHAT THOMAS SAID IN THE PUB.