Wednesday, December 01, 2004 imagination refuses to succumb to any material understanding of home. Or understanding even. It's all up in the air. People, places, memories and markers. My sight will not confirm and my mind will not let go. I am struggling to make sense and sense is not common anymore.

Is this why I study anthropology? In a desperate attempt to objectify that which I can neither fathom nor reject? Objectification they say is blasphemy, but blasphemous we are who seek distance. Distance that glints but cannot glare. Arm's length, that which is within touching distance and yet must not be touched. A ban in the service of sanity.

Five future papers -

1. The dance bars of Bombay
2. My grandfather (pls. note, grandfather not grandmother)
3. Industrial townships and their structures of governmentality
4. Tourism and Branding
5. Silences of the Self

It's all for sale...elusive as the prices may's all debatable, despicable and discardable. The products of individual and collective voyeurism and the montage of bored vision.
Cannot sleep and cannot stop the bloody dreams! Groan, moan, damn bloody hell!!!