From: Dagmawi
To: Seble
Subject: LibE balsale bilewa sitgezegzhew.....

Seb-seb,

Bey ingdi, min ladrig, liqeyemsh feligE neber gin yelak'shilign melikt libEn sewerew. Degmo, "I may have devoured you"!!!! Qes, qes, idmEyE iyegefa silehone libEn bizu batifetategnew yishal yimeselegnal!

I especially liked the lyrics from Satchmo. He was great, wasn't he? Whatever has happened to all that raw talent? I understand that tastes in music change, and that the fickle music-buying public crowns a new phenom every other minute, but can anyone really really argue convincingly that 10 years from now (nay, say even 5) anyone will really remember such non-talent flash-in- the-pans like "Capone 'n Noriega" (or whatever the hell they call themselves--- take your pick)? Conversely, 60-70 years after a performance, we still remember (and are moved by the evocative power) of something like the song by Satchmo, or Billie Holliday's "Don't Explain", or Ellington's "In a Sentimental Mood". Much of what passes for music today is nothing more than deconstructed factory noise, which these no-talent musicians/performers embellish with "samplings" from works created by the more adventurous and creative among them. Admittedly, there are a few gems among the rabble whose creativity just floors me and whose erudition and word-play cut me to the quick(Tupac, Lauren Hill, and Sting immediately come to mind), but alas musicians/performers like these are a rarity indeed. Consider these lyrics from Sting's "Moon Over Bourbon Street":

It was many years ago
that I became what I am
I was trapped in this life
like an innocent lamb
Now I can never show my face at noon
And you'll only see me walking by the light of the moon
The brim of my hat hides the eye of a beast
I've the face of a sinner but the hands of a priest

Can't you just envision the scene????

I'll do you one better. From Billie Holiday's "Don't Explain":

Try to hear folks chatter
And I know you cheat
Right or wrong, don't matter
When you're with me, sweet

What I wouldn't have done to have heard her (or Nina Simone) sing that!!!!!!!

I had thought my previous entry was my last, so I had tried to make my peace and do the usual "parting is such sweet sorrow" routine. I now have risen like a phoenix from the ashes, however, and I live another day to flummox, perplex... and dare I say, vex YOU!!!

Not wanting to dwell on the FGM issue (and fully believing that your previous sermon has touched on all the right points and made me a believer), I would like to circle (hmmmm) back on the "transmigration of souls" issue that you raised. Would that I be so lucky to come back as that delicate part of the vulva!!! Ahh, what bliss!!!! Pythagorean principles aside, I would have no problems with the associated narcissistic predicament--- mechess, kewededu ayqer.....

I am moved that you were moved by my oral fixation's genesis. I personally have tried to deal with the issue through persistent application of my home-made remedy --- constant suckling at the source of my affliction when given any opportunity. This may be one of those cases where the cure is almost surely worth the pain of the affliction. Then again, this may just be another variation on the "hair of the dog that bit you" philosophy......

I am in total agreement with you about the cathartic quality of letter writing. As I stated before, I used to do it a lot, until I got caught up in the convenience of quick calls and short notes. There is really nothing, in my mind, like receiving a well-drafted and heartfelt piece of correspondence that, by its very nature, conveys over and over the sentiments of one you value. What is infinitely more gratifying is finding the correspondence after the passage of a great deal of time, and feeling a new wave of interpretational reactions and emotions wash over you. I hope you feel inspired to pick up the pen again, and get back to writing letters after your lengthy hiatus. Maybe after we have had time to recoup what little vestige of sanity we have left after this LD debacle, we could actually pick another topic and exchange sermons and diatribes..... just a thought. (NOTE: Seleda editors should not interpret the above as an invitation to conscript said LD diarist to future non-commissioned pieces...) [Editors : iNa'tE!]

I believe it was Yogi Berra who said, "When all is said and done, there is nothing left to say or do". On that note, I bid you adieu (really, really I do this time), and will look for you on the Island. You will recognize me --- I will be the one with the "Victim of Soul Transmigration" t-shirt!

Ij iyenesaw,

Dagmawi

From: Seble
To: Dagmawi
Subject: The Theory of P.P

Daggiye--

I was intrigued by two songs you chose to quote to me… I had deep suspicions you possessed vampire-ish tendencies as evidenced by the deep bite marks you left on my…, er, neck? last time around. But now, nefsu, you confirmed it. You are that vampire on Bourbon Street… heading to kill the woman he loves because he fell in love with her.

To me, the most important quote in "Moon Over Bourbon Street" is, … "I must love what I destroy and destroy the thing I love". So, what does that say about us that we love this song? What I would not give to have a conversation with the skeletons in your closet! And then, Billie. You have been a bad boy, D. Verryyyy bad.

As chastisement for all your sins (biting innocent little girls like me? Well, I never!), I think the gods of Transmigration might bring you back as the knife--and then your pleasure will be so ephemeral… so painfully taunting, so close yet, at the blink of an eye… gone. The sweet taste of the forbidden. And you will continue your inclination to kill what you love most.

IF you confess though, you might just come back to be loved and adored by men who know what they're doing. You shall be put upon a pedestal and worshipped. You will have power beyond your dreams. You will abuse that power to get what you want. You shall rule your kingdom with sweetness, passion and ferocity… you will vex, flummox and perplex the best of them with power that is confounding even to you. You can bring them to their knees, make them bequeath their soul for a glimpse, a touch, a caress. You shall have power to make them rise and fall twofold.

So, what route would you choose, I wonder? The challenge… oh, the challenge. (Hey, I'm just the messenger from the gods.)

One day, you will have to tell me what "hair on the dog that bit you" means. I feel I am missing a huge chunk of your double entendre. But whatever you have to do to ease your oral fixation that has ME now fixated, I am all for. Now THERE is a subject you and I can sermonize about. Privately. Why do you need "time to recoup", by the way? DAGMAWI yetebalkew tadiya lemindinnew? Incidentally, my p.s. from a while back was a compliment, in case you were still wondering. :)

Speaking of yetedegageme bliss, the overwhelming sensation and crescendo of dolce far niente keeps flooding my mind as the time for my vacation draws near. Three and a half weeks of… nothing. It's been a long time since I've done nothing--not because of exotic peripheral/tangential reasons like no time, no this.. no that. But, I think I have always been afraid of doing nothing. It makes you think and contemplate, and there was a time I was afraid of spending too much time with myself… "Ke ahiya gar yewalech gider…"

So now, at the southern edge of civilization, I get to think.

Speaking of music... can we all appeal to the guy who runs the Bati Music Page to fix it? I need a fix. Fix it!!! Please, Mr. Bati Man, yene qonjo?

I was a bit distressed by your analysis of music. It was too conventionally conventional for a man with your savoir faire. That we won't remember any of the boy bands compared to Thelonious Monk...!? Daggieye, esti tew.

Daggie… yene anbessa, was it good for you? Because it was great for me. Thank you for spending some time with me. I will await your arrival on the Island with exhilaration. I'm the one wearing a fig leaf.

Until then,

I remain,

Yours in Seleda,

_seble

p.s. Seleda Editors…you cognoscenti of all things literary… I could not go without thanking you for making me do this. Ave atque vale!!! [Editors grin foolishly "we don't know what it means, either. but we think we like it!]

PREV

Comments to and/or about our Life Diarists, including feeble attempts at Tebessa, may be sent to life_diarists@seleda.com