Thursday, April 02, 2026

#571 Le Cicérone (1948)

The temperance advocates come
knocking at my door but I haven't
had a drink for days. Nor do I
feel like one. Sorry to disappoint.

The pentecostal proselytizers pause
in the pathway. I instantly recog-
nize the pairing, can see more pairs 
over their shoulders, say no thanks 

politely to them before they have a
chance to open their mouths. & they, 
inured to rejection, offer their equally 
polite blessings & walk quietly away. 

Then the politicians, the outliers only — 
independents who seek to save the
planet; or those far to the right, want-
ing to stop immigration or gender e-

quality or renewable energy sources. 
The mainstream parties mainly leave 
us alone. Impersonal. Letterbox drops 
& billboards. Polling booth handouts.

In the early evening the cicerone comes
knocking. Said: "Saw you had a lot of
visitors today, thought you might like
to know their antecedents. What drives

them, what is behind their focus on a
singular cause whether it be bigotry 
or hope or a need for an answer as to 
why the world turned out the way it

has, & how it might be rearranged to
match their vision of it." "Come in" I
said "& get comfortabable. Will make
you a coffee. Going to be a long night."