My Brother
Hello again.
I'd like to talk a bit about my brother and what type of guy he is in order for you, the reader, to get a feeling of what can happen to you no matter how "safe" or "smart" or "well-heeled" you think you are. For example, you may not have known, but cults overwhelmingly target intelligent and well-adjusted people as they are the most likely to reject the norms society ratchets us into and to try something new and extreme, with the right coaxing, of course...
Peter is my older brother. We grew up in a small suburb of Baltimore in the 70's. Peter is older by a little over two years. He is my only sibling. Our mother and father have never separated and still live together, albeit in a different suburb of Baltimore.
You may have read something about birth order once and I can say my brother fit the "older sibling" role perfectly. He was careful, watchful and obedient, and a little bit cruel--though angelic. He lived to set an example for me, and aside from a few random events, he generally did. I was, of course, awed by his intelligence, athleticism, and general irreverence. He was kindhearted, but not at all afraid of a little mischief. We occassionally took advantage of the woods behind our house to propose the most outlandish and savage sabbats; virgins and blood drinking and the whole nine yards. Understand, our father was a methodist minister in the next town over, and we, being true to our nature, were 100% P.K. Let me say: We preferred tricks over treats.
Of course you might not know what a PK is, but I can tell you this: When you know the business of everyone in the church, God seems just a bit more worthless than he already was. Honestly, and my father was not the guy to say anything and point fingers, but I kept my eyes and ears open, and I know what kind of horrible things happen to people. They keep happening too. God, in my humble opinion, is a long way off on a VERY extended vacation. Good riddance too. I don't know how people can put up with it every Sunday.
Whatever...
Peter finished high school doing pretty well and maintaining just enough interest in the world to go to college. He attended a small University in upper Connecticut where he met his future wife, whom I will not name. He studied mathmatics and graduated with top marks, of course. He stayed there to earn his MA in psychology and started working as a tutor in the small, ramshackle village the school whithered in. Personally, I believe he couldn't think of anything better to do. Too bad for him.
This is where things started to get a bit strange. He, having fallen into the academic life, went right onto a doctorate program in, what else, religious studies. So this is 1997. He's gotten degrees in two completely unrelated fields and is working on a doctorate in a third. Frankly, religious studies doesn't surprise me. Shit, I study it myself CONSTANTLY, but this is the point where I realize something else is pulling my brother's strings. Something isn't right here. Logic doesn't seem to be the prime motivator anymore; he's looking for something.
Let me think, I've got to re-connect the dots. He got married in 19 -- I can't remember--, but they had been dating for a pretty long time. I had spent a few weekend trips with them and a couple of holidays before they got married. This was a while ago, maybe seven years, christ I can't remember. God she was a bitch. I swear, you'd just sit there and she'd despise you with this sinister stare that looked like she was almost smiling but her eyes were burning. Not, I don't know, smoldering or sultry, but it was like the pupils would be moving, sizing you up and tossing you out. God, this sounds insane, but I swear she had lizard eyes. Jesus, it was the most uncomfortable gaze and I think she knew it because she would always keep her eylids sort of half shut or squinty so you couldn't tell she was looking at you. God, she was horrible. Where was I?
Brother, Doctorate...right. Honestly, I can't get the freaky eyes of my sister-in-law out of my head. It wasn't just her eyes, though. She was always on my brother, like some sex crazed succubi, and she'd honestly stick her tongue out at you if you tried to take Peter's attention away from her. The worst part of all was that she was actually REALLY, truly smart...and I hate to say it, wise. You'd think she was some catty tramp, and then she'd school you on basic principles of physics and why it proved you could never be happy. GOD! GOD! I hate her!
I remember one year just before they got married, she and Peter came down to my parent's house for Thanksgiving. I was up from U of M(aryland, duh!) and we were watching some assinine thing on television. Fucking, A*****h, gets up and straddles my brother, while he's sitting right next to my mom, puts her arms across his shoulders, licks his ear, for like a good 10 seconds and peers over at my mom. AND THEN she says to my mom, "He's the best thing you ever did. The closest you came to changing the world." GOD! WTF?!!!! This woman was insane, I swear to god. That was a very strange moment and my mom, a very shy and frail woman, just RAN for the kitchen and didn't say a word the rest of the night. Whatsername sat there ladling gespatcho into her napkin all through dinner, ruined it. She was e-v-i-l.
I digress. She met a most unfortunate end and it is with deepest respect and admiration for the dead that I even mention her here. (BITCH)
Really, though, I shouldn't get too angry or anything, but this is a pretty good place to get it out. Who the fuck cares? Nobody's even reading this...
I suppose now, you think, I owe you a bit of background on me... to be fair of course. Well, for Thanksgiving this year, I pulled into a BP station, somewhere outside of Albuquerque and bought a saran wrapped turkey hoagie and some chili Corn Nuts. This was mostly due to the closure of the local Mc Donalds and my inability to procure a nice greasy cheeseburger. The Turkey sandwich just seemed right, and well Corn Nuts were...from the Indians. Needless to say it was a(n im)memorable Thanksgiving.
I'd like to talk a bit about my brother and what type of guy he is in order for you, the reader, to get a feeling of what can happen to you no matter how "safe" or "smart" or "well-heeled" you think you are. For example, you may not have known, but cults overwhelmingly target intelligent and well-adjusted people as they are the most likely to reject the norms society ratchets us into and to try something new and extreme, with the right coaxing, of course...
Peter is my older brother. We grew up in a small suburb of Baltimore in the 70's. Peter is older by a little over two years. He is my only sibling. Our mother and father have never separated and still live together, albeit in a different suburb of Baltimore.
You may have read something about birth order once and I can say my brother fit the "older sibling" role perfectly. He was careful, watchful and obedient, and a little bit cruel--though angelic. He lived to set an example for me, and aside from a few random events, he generally did. I was, of course, awed by his intelligence, athleticism, and general irreverence. He was kindhearted, but not at all afraid of a little mischief. We occassionally took advantage of the woods behind our house to propose the most outlandish and savage sabbats; virgins and blood drinking and the whole nine yards. Understand, our father was a methodist minister in the next town over, and we, being true to our nature, were 100% P.K. Let me say: We preferred tricks over treats.
Of course you might not know what a PK is, but I can tell you this: When you know the business of everyone in the church, God seems just a bit more worthless than he already was. Honestly, and my father was not the guy to say anything and point fingers, but I kept my eyes and ears open, and I know what kind of horrible things happen to people. They keep happening too. God, in my humble opinion, is a long way off on a VERY extended vacation. Good riddance too. I don't know how people can put up with it every Sunday.
Whatever...
Peter finished high school doing pretty well and maintaining just enough interest in the world to go to college. He attended a small University in upper Connecticut where he met his future wife, whom I will not name. He studied mathmatics and graduated with top marks, of course. He stayed there to earn his MA in psychology and started working as a tutor in the small, ramshackle village the school whithered in. Personally, I believe he couldn't think of anything better to do. Too bad for him.
This is where things started to get a bit strange. He, having fallen into the academic life, went right onto a doctorate program in, what else, religious studies. So this is 1997. He's gotten degrees in two completely unrelated fields and is working on a doctorate in a third. Frankly, religious studies doesn't surprise me. Shit, I study it myself CONSTANTLY, but this is the point where I realize something else is pulling my brother's strings. Something isn't right here. Logic doesn't seem to be the prime motivator anymore; he's looking for something.
Let me think, I've got to re-connect the dots. He got married in 19 -- I can't remember--, but they had been dating for a pretty long time. I had spent a few weekend trips with them and a couple of holidays before they got married. This was a while ago, maybe seven years, christ I can't remember. God she was a bitch. I swear, you'd just sit there and she'd despise you with this sinister stare that looked like she was almost smiling but her eyes were burning. Not, I don't know, smoldering or sultry, but it was like the pupils would be moving, sizing you up and tossing you out. God, this sounds insane, but I swear she had lizard eyes. Jesus, it was the most uncomfortable gaze and I think she knew it because she would always keep her eylids sort of half shut or squinty so you couldn't tell she was looking at you. God, she was horrible. Where was I?
Brother, Doctorate...right. Honestly, I can't get the freaky eyes of my sister-in-law out of my head. It wasn't just her eyes, though. She was always on my brother, like some sex crazed succubi, and she'd honestly stick her tongue out at you if you tried to take Peter's attention away from her. The worst part of all was that she was actually REALLY, truly smart...and I hate to say it, wise. You'd think she was some catty tramp, and then she'd school you on basic principles of physics and why it proved you could never be happy. GOD! GOD! I hate her!
I remember one year just before they got married, she and Peter came down to my parent's house for Thanksgiving. I was up from U of M(aryland, duh!) and we were watching some assinine thing on television. Fucking, A*****h, gets up and straddles my brother, while he's sitting right next to my mom, puts her arms across his shoulders, licks his ear, for like a good 10 seconds and peers over at my mom. AND THEN she says to my mom, "He's the best thing you ever did. The closest you came to changing the world." GOD! WTF?!!!! This woman was insane, I swear to god. That was a very strange moment and my mom, a very shy and frail woman, just RAN for the kitchen and didn't say a word the rest of the night. Whatsername sat there ladling gespatcho into her napkin all through dinner, ruined it. She was e-v-i-l.
I digress. She met a most unfortunate end and it is with deepest respect and admiration for the dead that I even mention her here. (BITCH)
Really, though, I shouldn't get too angry or anything, but this is a pretty good place to get it out. Who the fuck cares? Nobody's even reading this...
I suppose now, you think, I owe you a bit of background on me... to be fair of course. Well, for Thanksgiving this year, I pulled into a BP station, somewhere outside of Albuquerque and bought a saran wrapped turkey hoagie and some chili Corn Nuts. This was mostly due to the closure of the local Mc Donalds and my inability to procure a nice greasy cheeseburger. The Turkey sandwich just seemed right, and well Corn Nuts were...from the Indians. Needless to say it was a(n im)memorable Thanksgiving.
posted by the search at 9:15 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home