Playing the Bohemian Card

Originally Posted Tuesday, July 29, 2014

I like being a Bohemian and living a Bohemian life.  The rules are looser.  There should be a special designation, if not dispensation, for Bohemians.  You should be able to self-identify and get a card that allows you certain privileges. 

"You can't do that.  It's against the law.  Oh. . . I'm sorry, you're a Bohemian.  I see." 

It should qualify you for all sorts of government handouts and interest-free financial aid.  It should be more difficult for employers to fire you.  There would have to be a Bohemian Board, I guess, who could determine that you were not, in fact, a Bohemian and who could revoke your designation as one. But it would have to be a jury of peers.  It could not be non-Bohemians sitting on the Board.

I was just thinking how dreadfully boring it would be to live the life of the Republican Guard around me.  Nice cars, nice homes, more than enough money for everything.  And still. . . they have to keep all their little desires secret, closeted.  They mumble them drunkenly to their buddies or to their girlfriends, perhaps, on a Friday night at the bar, but contrition comes quickly on a Saturday morning, then the resentment on a Saturday night.  They imagine what the "others" are doing, those not bound by "common decency" and their imaginations go wild and their resentment and desire grows. 

Sunday is church, of course, and the sanctioning of the life they lead.  It says so in the book.  It is the path to true enlightenment and happiness.  And they know that they must be forgiven if they run with the devil for a bit.  It is the nature of the world. 

"Hey buddy, come here.  You want to borrow my Bohemian card a little while?" 

There is always temptation.  Have you read "Young Goodman Brown"?  Oh, it is a hoot.  You have to read carefully, though.  What is it that makes Brown so dreadfully unhappy after his night in the forest? Well, I'll give you the short version right now--he suspects everyone of having the same desires as he.  What a nightmare that would be, right?  If everyone was just as filthy as you?  Fuck. . . who would want to live in that world?

I think I need those straight cats around to keep me happy, though.  Everything exists by contrast.  I just wish there weren't so fucking many of them.