Santa Barbara Soup
Or the Truth about Corn
It’s Santa Barbara Wine Country ‘Chick Lit’ with steamy smut, think Fifty Shades of Grey and Sideways holding hands together on my firm breasts. With grapes and vines for binding me to the chaise, and plying me into the kitchen after. For the more refined wine-country women, and the men they turn on. Because we are all about locally sourced, whole-lovely delicious juicy food; and beautiful, fucking gorgeous really, creamy like really nice sheets, with me in them, of course, wine. We know what we want, we’re women of the soil who dare to eat dessert in bed. Goddesses really, always knowing which man we want, and how to direct them for pleasure, ours and theirs. It comes from down deep, in the roots of the sacral region, we recognize it in man’s carnal imaginations, radiating out of the heart from our mouths to yours. Lips fine upon your finger with thought, till dawn do us part. That’s ours to know, the true secrets of the sweet juices we share. Blended by your hands alone, no limits but by our own minds knowing as one.
It’s about the wine we drink and how we love and taste with passion, and sometimes pain because we bore children whole from our fabric.
Sort of whole anyway, they are still attached fully depleting our resources, physical, mental, financial until we die, I suppose. So that’s reality, uh, maybe I should leave them out of this pitch, but I don’t think i can talk about life without the children. So there it is, Santa Barbara Wine Country ‘chick lit’ with the children, and I forgot to mention it’s also about divorce; It’s a comedy really, I am sure you’ll agree, it’s the greatest thing ever. Don Ho singing Tiny Bubbles, and swing-sets behind the lemon tree at the gate, and Dad’s old records.
Thinking of Dad today, my ghosts, as we saw Interstellar below the Santa Barbara stars, Son and I sat in the balcony for all 3 hours of spilled popcorn, slurpees, chocolate chip deliciousness and my almond brioche from Crazy Good Bread, Public Market. Wow, what an epic story of multiple dimensions, and the best brioche this side of the Seine. This whole sound dispute, it was certainly intentional; and I need to research the lines about rage, what is it from? The blurring of important lines, lines that would answer some secret question, lines from other literature, genius really. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, it’s his book at the end, when dad(McConaughey) is realizing Murph had the message and he could communicate with her – it was all almost overwhelmingly sad from a parent-child perspective, but not from my kid’s p.o.v. he didn’t hear the sadness in the internal voices. I’m not entirely sure what the secret even was, never mind the answers. I guess it had something to do with the fact that they couldn’t go back, noone is there to help them get back through the wormhole, time is elastic and gooey, you can move through its dimensions but not backwards, or something like that. While NASA-daughter, beautiful-physicist Anne Hathaway knew that, there was something more sinister with the Matt Damon character, why was he trying to kill Cooper? So no one would come try to save them and be stuck, too? That couldn’t be the whole reason. The answer is to take care of our own planet, STAY, and take care of your loved ones. Because they can forgive a lot of things, but if you leave and KNOW you can never come back, it’s unthinkable, unforgivable, like leaving our children to die a long horrible life on our burning planet. Like Einstein said, he’s not any smarter than the next person, he just STAYs with the problem longer. Stay with our Earthly problems, people.
Of course we can communicate with them, our ghosts, our children here once we go back to the stars, it has to do with gravity which apparently can travel between the dimensions. We can communicate through Morse Code – which is all personally crazy in a huge way to me – the connectedness of everything – and with Einstein and how he was here in Santa Barbara some years before Dad studied these things, space travel and time and wormholes. I heard a lot about wormholes in the later years before Dad’s death, not that I understood. How many years in space travel was equal to years on earth? And btw i am certainly getting this all wrong, the scientific explanations of it all. Not making any claims here about my own knowledge or understanding, but one thing is abundantly clear…
We need to do something. We need to be more than just memories for our kids; we need to be their heroes and heroines in the greatest epic of their generation.
Something big, to stem the warming of our water, the heating of our poles, the increasing power of our tides, our moon and sun. Our children, like Murph, will not be able to forgive us if we just leave the problems we see now, for them to solve later. It will be too late. You will have a hard time getting through to your kids after you’re gone, trying to explain how you could have ignored all the signs, i don’t think you will master that code and the gravity of all things, all together and on time. Just here off our shores, like all our planet’s oceans, it is warming at an alarming, and albeit pleasant, rate. Are we becoming comfortably numb to it all, medicating our minds? But more specifically right here, off Campus Point, our small creatures, marine life, are dying due to effects of our warming water. Oh sure, the specimen we bring over from the Mediterranean are still alive, but our sea squirts and those other similar-to-us, but single-celled invertebrates, are dying, harbingers of home. Maybe after we are done surfing and SUPing in bikinis and trunks in December, we could talk about our dying planet. Are you ready to duck-dive into the force of the wave as deep as you can, because our storms are getting bigger, more powerful, more frequent.
Gravity and its nature to humanity is changing. The things we hold grave must be protected, we are in grave danger of mis-prioritizing the gravity of all things – Gravity, Newton’s theory of. Science is real and we must not let the bad guys win by claiming God is on their side; God, or whatever one wants to call her, lives in all of us. That particle, the smallest thing that lives in the deepest region of our conscience, love knows, she knows, it connects us all. Your mother knows, her intuition is right. Higgs boson might be a little scary when you think like Stephen Hawkings, but we need to think like Stephen, and Carl and Neil and Dad, and Grandma always said she just wanted to love and be loved, but let’s include Mother Earth and all her children, too.
The poetic lines which form some of the underlying subtext, or voices in your head, throughout Interstellar.
The truth about corn is that we are in a climate crisis and we need to do something now. It’s not possible? No, it’s necessary. The dust in the fields will be us, and if this war on science and good continues, to the stars as dust we will all go. Our global population, combined with resource depletion and our neo-fascist leaders, are tipping our shadows steeper towards the sun. The giant dust clouds are coming, like the Dust Bowl Grandma sharecropped, it’s a doozy. Get out your masks, Santa Barbara, our hills are burning in drought.