The Bishop and the Butterfly: Murder, Politics, and the End of the Jazz Age
    quinn esq's picture

    Every Single One Of Your Atoms... Has Been In A Jam

    By quinn esq on Sat, 01/17/2009 - 2:45pm |

    This man serving communion through the wall at the US-Mexican border reminds me of my friend. 

    Or rather, he reminds me of a friend of mine from twenty-odd years ago. My friend had it all. Brilliant. Well-spoken. Funny. Kind. Tall too. He had a fade-away jumper that floated on air, and he blew past defenders like smoke through trees. At the start, all I knew was that he was from La Jolla, Ivy League, and seemed to have the Royal Jelly. But after his time with us, we all knew where he'd end up. In politics. Either at, or somewhere near the top. 

    This man serving communion today, is not the young man who was my friend. For starters, this man's body is older. I talked to some scientists, and they tell me this man's body is made up of a quite different mix of atoms. Atoms seem to have come & joined him, from many places, people & times. Atoms from mammals that once danced in front of the jaws of dinosaurs. Atoms from Gandhi's own smile (as well as from that famous loincloth.) Atoms from recent immigrants, now lying cold & dead in the Mexican desert. 

    Others tell me his spirit has also changed. Not just in relation to God, since he went from being an agnostic to becoming a man of the cloth. But also in relation to those people, the ones in the picture - the ones on the other side of the wall. Now, I don't know the right word for their relationship. It's not as complete as a "joining," nor so limited & mechanical as a "connection." But whatever it is, it's as real as the fact that all those atoms keep moving, swapping places, refusing to be hemmed in (or out) by age, sex, race, religion, color or creed. Heck, atoms aren't even hemmed in by species or substance.

    So, the same man, yes. But also... changed. Changed because he chose the path without the red carpet. Traded it in for 20 years in the desert. But changed most deeply because, when he came to a place of division, a wall - he decided to reach across it, take a hand. And not let go. 

    The place where he's serving communion is Friendship Park, down on the beach, where San Diego meets Tijuana. Once it was a place where families divided by the border could join together for meals, anniversaries, births, deaths, celebrations. They could touch, talk, handle babies, pass news on, keep hope alive. A place that straddled both sides of an invisible line in the sand. A line scratched by some men who felt the need to divide the lives of others. In the 70's, the place was made a park, and a monument placed there, by Pat Nixon, marking it as a place of Friendship. Later, the border became a fence - but you could still see, touch, talk through it. Permeable. 

    But now, the Bush Government - citing Homeland Security needs - has seized the land. They've overridden all relevant laws, denied any & all public approvals & consultations, ignored birds & animals, and are slamming shut the door on this meeting place for the families of California, and Mexico. By building a massive wall - 3 walls in fact, with a wide 'No Man's Land" in-between. This very week in fact, they've reached the stage of painting numbers across the very heart of the Park itself, to direct the bulldozers. Tens of millions of dollars spent, just on this stretch alone, to.... 

    Well, I'll let the wall speak for itself....

    They're trying to keep atoms out. Which strikes me as a rather daft strategy, all in all.

    Frankly, I don't think walls work. I know they certainly don't work against atoms. Or information. Or seeds, or birds, or snowballs, or love... or even very well against people. At least, not for very long. Wars knock walls down, trade knocks walls down, refugees & immigrants & emigrants all knock walls down. And if they can't knock them down, people will take to the seas & just go around them. 

    But what do I know? I'm no professional historian. So maybe I should stick to personal experience. And I have walked along, and over, Hadrian's Wall. Which didn't keep my ancestors out. So I'd give that wall a big MacFAIL. And the London Wall, which didn't help the Romans much. So, FAIL, THE SEQUEL. The Berlin Wall, the Great Wall of China, the Walls of Jericho even - my family & friends tell me they've all failed as well, sooner or later. I've seen lots of other walls, smaller ones, around parts of towns & ghettoes, colleges & parks - heck, walls around gated communities & even individual houses. I like climbing all those walls when I see them. And apparently, so do other people.

    Which I put down to all those atoms. They're pretty unanimously against walls. And since they're inside us, jiggling around all the time, I think it makes us kinda crazy. Against walls. People who build walls? Well, I just figure their atoms are slower. Dumber. Or maybe the bodies & minds of people who build walls are like rest homes, for atoms that just don't have much life in 'em anymore.

    *

    Here are some different kinds of walls. Glass ones. So you can look inside. In fact, these walls have huge holes in them, with ramps leading inside. Stranger yet, the people building them are issuing invitations to come inside their walls. Now, they just broke ground for it this past week, and it was a pretty cold week, so it's not quite finished yet. But soon. You can come when it opens.


    It's a funny place. A Museum. But for Human Rights. Which would normally not just put me off, but right totally off. But when I heard it was being built near here, in Winnipeg, and that I could skate right down to it, where the Red River meets the Assiniboine, I decided to keep an open mind. Then when I saw the designs by this guy Antoine Predock, well... I gotta say, it's not what I'd pictured as a Human Rights Museum. Same when I looked up Ralph Applebaum Associates, who did the Holocaust Memorial Museum, and saw that they'd be designing the exhibits. 

    It's being built with public money, private money, green money, yellow money, some striped money, money from a dozen countries. Which I liked, the way the money atoms were busting down walls, pouring in from all over the place. And best of all, it's going to have exhibits & such about people you know. Unless, of course, you don't know any Aboriginal or Native people. Or African American or African people either. Or Jewish or Japanese people. Or... (deep breath)... Mennonites or Ukrainians or Women or Workers or French or Cajun or Palestinians or Poles or maybe you knew Rosa Parks or Tecumseh or Nellie McClung personally or ... ok.

    You get the picture. You & your atoms have probably been around as much as my friend's. So. Boiled down, what I'm saying is that, at some point or other in their history, every single one of your atoms has been in a jam. (Or even in jam itself. Which is a nice thought.) So this Museum is being built to tell the story of when your atoms were in a jam, put down, mistreated, disrespected & walled out.

    Which brings me back to walls. Because they're aiming to use these walls a bit differently. Instead of building walls to keep certain atoms & their configurations out, they're gonna project the actual stories of peoples, groups, heroes & heroines - atoms - on the walls.


    Which brings me to my conclusion. Well, not mine, really. This is the atoms talking. Quote, 

    Walls divide. They make two sides.
    Insides & outsides. 

    We dislike this.
    We will tear all your walls down, sooner or later. (All.)

    Just you watch. 

    So don't be wasting your time, or ours. 'Cause we're busy, alright? 
    Peace out. 

    - The Atoms. 

    End Quote. 

    Oh yeah. I know the atoms can come off as a bit negative at times, but there is one thing they like. They like "one." Not two, just one.


    Just that.