it is the time of year
like no other, when
we pay tribute to and
celebrate irrelevance, to
those among us who are
lucky enough to remain
hidden, who walk the
earth unnoticed. (fred
suddenly spaces out
in the labyrinth of
inconsequence, the
old conundrum
that asserts that we
cannot know the
invisible, cannot
have a true aware
ness of their
holy or unholy
existence, how
might we know
what invisible
individuals might
look like or what
irrelevance, theirs,
others’, ours, might
resemble; how lift
a glass to anything
so concealed; do
they celebrate
us? are they giddy
like leprechauns,
happy to never
be seen? are
they picked up
via satellite?
would those
who found them
tell the rest of us
or are they captured,
confined for the
duration of their
lives, either together
or in solitary? which
might be the better
choice? of course I
know the answer.)
if celebrations ex
ist amongst such
imprisoned creatures,
in what form do such
parties take? fine
citizens, we’re not
talking about the
well-liked or the
overly-disliked but,
quite simply, the
cultures, the trad
itions, the day-to-
day lives of the
unseen. do there
exist such people?
has anthropology
and economy and
global greed and
global need un
covered the
last of these
unstudied folks,
if folks they might
be called. ladies
and gentlemen
of the night,
beware. i have
news: some un
desirable research
has fallen into the
wrong hands, has
been handed over,
is held in the hands
of those who are
quite unaware of
what is at hand
here, of what
mighty catastrophes
will soon befall
each and all. i
suggest that those
of us who remain
invisible shall shrink
ever steadily in
number. what
is it that we
should do?
soon the disappeared
will have all but
disappeared. and
then we’ll be
gone. then
what will be left
to celebrate?
and with whom?
and why? roll
out the purple
carpets and
bring in the
muted trumpets.
the time is now.
let us commence.
