{"id":838,"date":"2017-10-09T19:22:56","date_gmt":"2017-10-09T19:22:56","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/jonelkon.com\/?p=838"},"modified":"2017-10-09T19:22:56","modified_gmt":"2017-10-09T19:22:56","slug":"letter-from-california-1-into-the-golden-land","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/jonelkon.com\/jnlk\/letter-from-california-1-into-the-golden-land\/","title":{"rendered":"Letter from California 1 – Into the Golden Land"},"content":{"rendered":"

In the Air<\/strong><\/p>\n

There is no more fantastic than this<\/em><\/p>\n

This pent up portent this<\/em><\/div>\n
Conveyor of life and\u00a0<\/em><\/div>\n
This endless roiling this<\/em><\/div>\n
Shredded heaven which<\/em><\/div>\n
Layered between ground and infinity<\/em><\/div>\n
Separates us<\/em><\/div>\n
From dust<\/em><\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
\u00a0\"\"<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
\n
Searching for Mother<\/strong><\/div>\n
<\/div>\n

A sliver of land on the edge of Mordor, this golden-kissed paradise of innocents, the last vestige of civilisation in the land, this remainder of the real ideals of a land engulfed in the roiling fury of fascism and dictatorship. And between these two peoples, a massive rift, geological as well as ideological. California the Golden clings to the landmass of North America by happenstance, by luck, the intense friction between plate and plate holding this strip of sybaritic sweetfulness still, for now. To the east, bristling with bweaponed dull-eyed beasts, followers of the Swamp King, armies of rabid slavering fiends gather and shout their war cries. To the South, drug barons kill without mercy, all who give allegiance to any but themselves. Blood runs in the streets and the very earth rocks and shakes in its attempts to shake these pesky humans off its bruised and battered surface.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n
\n
To the West, only Ocean. Here there is an appearance of peace, where marine creatures navigate warily between swirling mists of plastic and faeces.<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
And to the North, badlands stretch for miles through territories where souls are bought and sold on the toss of a dice. But should a traveller, suitably armoured and brave, keep on the northern journey eventually a land of refuge lies cold but warm-hearted, like a beautiful crown perched on the head of a monster. Somewhere on the border I have a brother. I can flee to him if there is danger.<\/div>\n
My journey to the Golden Land has to be with stealth, here in the stench of this cigar- shaped airship in which I hide amongst other sardinned humans, not very different to the slave ships which made this same journey two hundred years ago. The difference is, we’re paying for this. We are unlikely to be sold when we arrive, and we may even be welcomed.<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
For me, I have embarked on this adventure with a sense of fatalistic sorrow, the mission, to find my mother. Oh I know where her body is, my sister keeps it safe. But the mind has disappeared, leaving only traces, clues, clouds. And even though I know this search may be futile and my mission may fail, it could be worth going to the Golden Land just to find out. For the last time. If I have, or ever had, a mother.<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
******<\/div>\n
\u00a0\"\"<\/div>\n
Positively the worst airline food ever ever ever. Spiral pasta with a pinch of “pesto”. A tiny plastic bowl with a small splurge of red cabbage. A chocolate tub – I don’t eat chocolate. About the size \u00a0of a Yakult. \u00a0Everything in a flurry of plastics, bowls, cutlery, tumblers even the dwarf-sized “bottle” of Tempranillo is plastic. All soon no doubt to join the plastics and sewage swarming off the Californian coast like schools of detritus animated by currents almost slowed to a stop by the weight of it all. A Sargasso of sludge, which one day may just become heavy enough to activate that San Andreas fault.<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
Suddenly over America<\/strong><\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
\u00a0\"\"<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
There is no more fantastic than this<\/em><\/div>\n
\n
Suspended in air growling progress over half the Earth<\/em><\/div>\n
And beneath us this brown crinkled like the skin<\/em><\/div>\n
Of a centenarian aborigine through<\/em><\/div>\n
Binoculars this fault-formed fastness<\/em><\/div>\n
where earth coughed and sputtered and threw up crags valleys lines of folds<\/em><\/div>\n
With sudden lakes and also \u00a0<\/em><\/div>\n
Scratched lines where rivers<\/em><\/div>\n
Have forgotten to roam<\/em><\/div>\n
A thousand years ago<\/em><\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
\n
And the blue of the river like fathomless shadow<\/em><\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
Is the heart of this nation so\u00a0<\/em><\/div>\n
Arid and empty?<\/em><\/div>\n
Then no wonder they cry so often<\/em><\/div>\n
Look at ME! This is ME!<\/em><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\u00a0<\/em><\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
Between us small cotton clouds throw stains of darkness down<\/em><\/div>\n
Like\u00a0fake lakes<\/i><\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
Ah! A town<\/em><\/div>\n
A clingy little spattering of us<\/em><\/div>\n
Laid out like a defiant<\/em><\/div>\n
Attempt to cry, see! It’s me! Here!<\/em><\/div>\n
In seconds lost beneath the wing.<\/em><\/div>\n
Little lives, of thee I sing.<\/em><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
\"\"<\/div>\n
\n
<\/div>\n
Suddenly and uncontrovertibly<\/em><\/div>\n
Green River<\/em><\/div>\n
Blacks Fork<\/em><\/div>\n
And ahead, King’s Peak.<\/em><\/div>\n
America’s nothingness…<\/em><\/div>\n
And ahead, Yellowstone River<\/em><\/div>\n
Where bears live.\u00a0<\/em><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
And the blue of the river like fathomless shadow<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
Utah now, here the Mormons\u00a0<\/em><\/div>\n
Lie, lie, lie. Here safe from sanity<\/em><\/div>\n
In this moonland of ups and downs<\/em><\/div>\n
These victims of their founder<\/em><\/div>\n
Founder.<\/em><\/div>\n
Mind you, if they wanted a God<\/em><\/div>\n
They may as well have made him here<\/em><\/div>\n
Where the land and logic part company<\/em><\/div>\n
Wow! Red-accented mountains!<\/em><\/div>\n
Lined up and curved as if remembering<\/em><\/div>\n
A sea that once<\/em><\/div>\n
Carved into crags\u00a0<\/em><\/div>\n
These rock teeth<\/em><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\"\"<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
\n
Now<\/strong><\/div>\n
\"\"<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
\n
<\/div>\n
This <\/em><\/div>\n
Lovecraft landscape of a fractured mind<\/em><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
Unimaginable horrors lurking in the crags<\/em><\/div>\n
Breeding in the caves<\/em><\/div>\n
Hunting from the cliffs<\/em><\/div>\n
Predators of dreams<\/em><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
\"\"<\/div>\n
\n
<\/div>\n
And then suddenly<\/em><\/div>\n
Sand.<\/em><\/div>\n
With habitation!<\/em><\/div>\n
Why?<\/em><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
\"\"<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
\n
<\/div>\n
Las Vegas, says the Captain, is on the right hand side.<\/em><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
\n
Where on Sunday night 59 people died<\/em><\/div>\n
Murder by madness<\/em><\/div>\n
and stupidity.\u00a0<\/em><\/div>\n
And we, along with 250 others<\/em><\/div>\n
Were all injured<\/em><\/div>\n
I feel it from here<\/em><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
\"\"<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
\n
And only half an hour from Golden California<\/strong><\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
\u00a0Mountain islands in the sand<\/em><\/div>\n
\u00a0\"\"<\/div>\n
Still these mountains<\/em><\/div>\n
Still this still<\/em><\/div>\n
Desert<\/em><\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
We will cross, soon, that rift where two<\/em><\/div>\n
Plates grind each other, slip<\/em><\/div>\n
Now and then as the continent tries<\/em><\/div>\n
To shrug California<\/em><\/div>\n
Into the Pacific Ocean<\/em><\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
Perhaps here<\/em><\/div>\n
<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
Descending now, this fabulous eyrie<\/em><\/div>\n
This privilege denied millions who died years ago<\/em><\/div>\n
And millions alive too<\/em><\/div>\n
Who never flew<\/em><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\u00a0\"\"<\/div>\n
\n
California, El Zahav!<\/strong><\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
Suddenly green<\/em><\/div>\n
Imported water makes green land<\/em><\/div>\n
Gold<\/em><\/div>\n
<\/div>\n<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

In the Air There is no more fantastic than this This pent up portent this Conveyor of life and\u00a0 This endless roiling this Shredded heaven which Layered between ground and infinity Separates us From dust \u00a0 Searching for Mother A…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":840,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[4,5],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-838","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-poetry","category-thoughts"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/jonelkon.com\/jnlk\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/838","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/jonelkon.com\/jnlk\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/jonelkon.com\/jnlk\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/jonelkon.com\/jnlk\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/jonelkon.com\/jnlk\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=838"}],"version-history":[{"count":10,"href":"https:\/\/jonelkon.com\/jnlk\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/838\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":860,"href":"https:\/\/jonelkon.com\/jnlk\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/838\/revisions\/860"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/jonelkon.com\/jnlk\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/840"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/jonelkon.com\/jnlk\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=838"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/jonelkon.com\/jnlk\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=838"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/jonelkon.com\/jnlk\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=838"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}