Airegin.
You think
it’s a word. Like airgun or something. Or a sort of gin. Thinking this while
listening to the Wes Montgomery song – you guessed it. Google and find out it’s
a jazz standard. Huh, shouldn’t have been surprised. But what is the deeper
meaning?! We must venture further into the rabbit hole (Aside: rabbits have something to do with fertility,
or eating them anyway – just a tidbit I picked up from Ulysses).
Okay, so
venture deeper into the capricious mirkwoods of Google. And…apparently it’s a
jazz standard and nothing but. Not a word. Hokay, then.
By the way,
it’s not like I have anything to compare it to, but the Wes Montgomery version is
really good. From “The Incredible Jazz Guitar of Wes Montgomery / 1960” if
anyone’s keeping tabs. Ah, oldfashioned-album-naming, I’ve not really missed
thee.
Holy hell,
just saw this on Wikipedia – it’s actually Nigeria spelled backwards. Mind not
blown, kinda disappointing, 4/10.
So,
airegins aside, airguns are apparently banned in India. That is to say, the toy
ones with the yellow-ochre bullets. After traipsing over half the country
looking for the very thing, a kind shopkeeper in Port Blair informed me that
the “Guvmint” has done away with them for the sake of the poor kiddies. Black
day, indeed. Black as night, black as day, ladida. Back in my day, kids had the
sense to not injure folks (remove the odd eye, etc) with them. And I’m pretty
sure they still do, so hm, it’s the good ol’ 20th century construct
of the Guvmint that’s got it going wrong. Hm. Okay, not 20th
century, but primitive as fuck. Jeez, should not digress.
Of course,
mentioning this to my anonymous roommate, R.V., who shall remain anonymous,
(except for the fact that he has a goddamn mountain
named after him!) I gathered that it was standard practice in Ahmedabad for
kids to mortally wound each other. The cherub that I was, I only shot at tyres
on the highway. Point being, the characteristic lawlessness of Lavale has deep
culturally-embedded roots and I’m setting up a special committee to look into
the matter. Maybe the Guvmint was onto something after all.
See, RV,
this is why we can’t have nice things.
Oh yeah,
and the current is out in certain sections of G-Block (The One and Only),
Lavale, the wastelands, the universe. Black as night, black as day. And while
people are stripped of their reason and I await impending, retributive doom at
the end of this darkling misery, my album grows cold, and I raise my hat to
thee. Good evening, and till the next
time.
