From - Tue Nov 13 09:45:19 2001 Message-ID: <3BEFFF81.B0F1DB30@clark.net> Date: Mon, 12 Nov 2001 11:57:37 -0500 From: Tiny Human Ferret Reply-To: klaatu@clark.net Organization: copyright 2001 all rights reserved -- non-UseNet transmission prohibited. X-Mailer: Mozilla 4.5 [en] (X11; U; Linux 2.2.17 i586) X-Accept-Language: en MIME-Version: 1.0 Newsgroups: alt.gothic Subject: Re: Gothic Farmers? References: <20011108215004.12066.00004148@mb-mv.aol.com> <7E0H7.9427$MI.4384967@typhoon.ne.mediaone.net> <3bef5d83.40661418@news.usachoice.net> Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit NNTP-Posting-Host: 65.205.1.226 X-Trace: vienna7.his.com 1005584259 65.205.1.226 (12 Nov 2001 11:57:39 -0500) Lines: 81 X-Authenticated-User: tjh22isp Path: vienna7.his.com Xref: vienna7.his.com alt.gothic:826344 McMorrigan wrote: > > On Sat, 10 Nov 2001 02:52:51 GMT, "demosthenes" > wrote: > > >> Are there any decent clubs there? > >nothing really of interest in the area, as far as i know. massachusetts, > >while having wonderfully depressing weather, provides little-to-no > >entertainment for the goth scene. > > It could be worse. You could be surrounded by farmers. Yes, farmers. I don't know if this is GAF or not. I recently was forced to take a 36-hour bus trip cross country. And I can only say, "only in America". Somewhere around Pittsburgh the first of them got on, a fairly young couple: he in full beard and a broadbrimmed hat, she in a long dark dress that would have been been the envy of all of the ladies of news:alt.gothic.fashion had it shown any leg or cleavage, overlaid with a cape-and-hood that was a cross between a diagonal shawl and a pilgrim bonnet, perfectly pressed and of the darkest black imaginable. As the trip progressed, more got on. Sometime drifting through Indiana, the back of the early-hours bus was filled with ladies and gentlemen of (I guess) the Anabaptist persuasion. I changed seats a few times to let couples sit together. As I dozed, I was occasionally woken by the incongruity of archaic German quietly spoken with an American accent, or by the quiet yet rapid movements of the women changing the baby. The baby had this ability which was unique in my experience -- it could cry quietly, clearly a baby demanding attention or a feeding or a change, yet almost inaudible over the thrum of diesel engines maintaining highway speed. I couldn't sleep through it, but it also wasn't the sort of howling that would probably drive me mad if I had a child of my own. I came up with the theory that babies howl exactly loud enough to be heard over the sound of adult conversation, and these folks were very quiet in their speech, even when one was addressing all of their brethren. I have to admit, for me it was a major trip -- locally, one simply doesn't see pure german types. Yet here were people who might have been my relatives from Kansas, bushy eyebrows and sharp green eyes, pale yet weathered, different from everyone around them and perfectly satisfied by that. My dad's people in Kansas had lived in a community with a lot of Mennonites and other German Anabaptists, and until WWI they all spoke German at home and in the community, avoiding the annoying "english" until the anti-German discrimination of WWI forced them to change their public ways. Apparently these folks' forebears were a bit more certain in their convictions and kept their language, or perhaps they had been more lucky than my dad's people who might have kept the language had not the Dust Bowl of the 1930s destroyed the family lands and scattered the family across the continent. I spoke for a bit with one of them, evidently they were all returning from some major congress of the churches, somewhere up in Canada if I understood the man correctly. In St-Louis, I saw the last of most of them, a full bus-load at least, lined up and waiting for Greyhound to get its act together and provide an extra bus for the unexpected Convergence of the Anabaptists, to take them to Kansas City and points beyond. The men were impeccable in their simple yet dignified suits, and yes they did have nice boots. The ladies were picture perfect in their dark bonnets and shawls, and yes, sabrina heels. I wish I had had the nerve to ask them if I could take a picture but I figured that would be an intrusion. I myself was travelling in my patented redneck uniform, and I wonder what they would have made of me had I been travelling as a Goth; I'm not sure if it would have resulted in an Amish rake fight or some sort of odd reunion of the tribes. There's no telling either if we'd compared our beliefs, contrasting their devout and generally anti-"overchurch" fundamental Christianity with my own rather devout solitary practice of homegrown neopagan ritual overlaying general judeochristian tenets. I have to admire people who think it's frivolous to build a church house, and hold services in a house or barn; maybe they could tolerate someone whose idea of worship is to stand and wonder at the extent of the creator's creation, immersing themselves as far into nature as common decency and suburban surroundings (and occasionally the weather) will permit. But I guess my point is this: don't knock the farmers, depending on which farmers they are, they could be lots cooler than you know. -- Be kind to your neighbors, even though they be transgenic chimerae. Whom thou'st vex'd waxeth wroth: Meow. <-----> http://earthops.net/klaatu/