Sour Grapes

[poliphilo]

I had my moment of fame. The phone rang, stuff came through the door. Interviewers interviewed, photographers photographed. It was intoxicating and I didn't want it to stop. I felt really, really alive in a feverish, slightly off my head kind of way.

It was to do with the vicar into witch thing. It couldn't be sustained. If I'd really wanted to sustain it I'd have had to take things further. I'd have had to put on a performance, dress up, wear horns on my head and invite the News of the World to come watch me celebrate the black mass on the stomach of a naked virgin.

But I was only interested in trying to tell the truth about my situation. And the truth is hedged round with buts and perhapses. It ain't tabloid enough.

I was watching a show about hauntings with Yuri Geller last night. Yuri was schlepping round Venice in a state of controlled hysteria, pretending to be scared of spooks, making chairs move by exercise of his psycho-kinetic powers and generally trying to convince us that this cheap documentary he'd been hired to front constituted a personal spiritual quest- part Death in Venice, part Don't Look Now. It had me thinking, but I could be doing this...

Cos I'm as talented. Or as untalented. The only thing against me is I'm not as driven. Geller ought to have been a flash in the pan- there's very little to him- but somehow he's managed to parlay his psychic gifts (or simple conjuring skills) into international celebrity. He's made himself into a household name, a brand. It's amazing how far sheer naked hunger for fame can take you.

Once in a while I get wistful and wonder what might have happened if I'd played my cards right. But then I think of Yuri and people like him and wonder what wizened little kernel of self is still rattling around inside the shell.

Comments

[queen-in-autumn.livejournal.com]

My parents changed the scary "if I should die" line into "and in the morn when I awake, help me the path of love to take."

I really like that.
I said the "die before I wake" version in childhood, but was never disturbed by it. I don't have a clear memory of the particulars now, but I think that for me those words were a comforting reminder that I was safe with God, whatever happened.

I was fortunate enough to be raised with a Christianity that did not use scare tactics. When I was in the sixth grade, my Sunday school teacher brought to class some horrible comic books that illustrated the consequences of not accepting salvation, or of backsliding, by showing devils rejoicing over lost souls being tormented in hell. I was so appalled that I told my parents I did not want to go to Sunday school anymore and went to "big church" instead. I should have told them why I made that decision beyond the fact that I "didn't like the teacher." He probably would have been removed from his post. But I didn't want to be a tattle-tale.

I think anyone who uses such "teaching aids" with anyone, but especially children, is despicable.

[jackiejj.livejournal.com]

I think there surely must be a sadistic pleasure in showing such a scary book to a child. I'm glad your parents didn't question you and allowed you in "big church."

My own parents were determined we children would never be afraid of God. They shopped around and found the Episcopal Church, where we all grew up.